Pond Socks

It was the dead of winter, and Timmy McDowel was sure that Ridgewood pond was finally frozen enough to skate on.

Hustling to get dressed, his bedroom door opened. Being a red retriever, Ellie immediately began nibbling at the thick socks Timothy was pulling onto his feet. Giving in to her demands, Timmy tossed a stinkier sock across the room.

With Ellie occupied, Timmy raced out of the house. Ice skates in hand.

Leaving behind a trail of white boot prints, Timmy ran the mile long trek to the reclusive pond through his snowy backyard. At the water, he laced up his new skates he got for Christmas, and hit the ice.

Sniffing around for the matching sock, Ellie heard a strange sound echo from the woods. She aimed her nose at the drafty window, then allowed her instincts to take over. Picking up Timmy’s scent, she squeezed through the doggy door, then bolted into the woods.

Following his trail to the pond, Ellie found Timmy’s boots slumped over by the water’s edge. A sudden splash, and a muffled gurgle caught her attention.

Timmy.

Dropping to her belly, she army-crawled fifteen feet to where Timmy had broken through. His legs were submerged, but his upper torso was on solid ice. Ellie licked Timmy’s face for reassurance, locked his hood in her jaws, then carefully pulled him out of the water.

She army-crawled in reverse fifteen more feet, then when she made sure Timmy was on solid ground, she barked incessantly.