The Day She Jumped

I was at one of my favorite places, but she was in a world of her own. I never knew what she was thinking, but one day she thought she should jump.

Like everyone, I have encountered many places throughout my life, but only a few can be classified as “favorites.” Almost every summer since I met her, she and I spent many holiday weekends at Dehne’s River Resort, our family cottage in Horicon, Wis.

It was a day like any other. I woke still smelling of campfire smoke from the night before, the air conditioner blowing a cool breeze in my face. After a late breakfast, I was searching for my first activity of the day.

I decided on a smooth pontoon ride aboard “La Buque Verde” on that warm and sunny Fourth of July afternoon. Although not very green ship-like during the Fourth of July due to the overabundance of Uncle Sam decorations, it graced the green waters of the Rock River every summer since I can remember.

Before she jumped, I would always remember her brown eyes on that special holiday. They were always perfectly illuminated by the sun, becoming excited eyes when the fuse of the first firework got lit. I have fond memories of paddle boat rides around the river as other watercraft with motors would drive by and test our abilities to traverse the waves. Reminded of the countless times we’ve been in boats together, I soaked up each memory in the making. Never without a camera in my hand, she filled many of my frames taken aft The Green Ship.

She was my black lab, and her name was Fife.

I watched her ears flopping in the wind while we roared around the corner before the bridge. The bridge where I would join the shouting and sounding of any and all horns at the swallow colonies occupying the concrete underneath. A family tradition of sorts, which I know not the origin.

She hit the water following her not-so-graceful jump and I instantly knew she was sandwiched between two pontoon floats, headed for the outboard propeller at the back of the boat. I saw it all unfold in slow motion as our captain quickly killed the motor and was able to raise it above the water level. Just about everyone, myself included, stood up to see Fife pop out the back-end swimming safely.

I watched as my dad pulled her out of the water by the collar, back onto the boat and gave her the knuckle sandwich sign, signifying her mistake.

In the closing moments of the venture, I stood behind a chained gate, smiling, where I saw her shake off the Rock River water that clung to her as we docked at Dehne’s River Resort.

To this day, I have no idea what she was jumping at, who she was jumping for, or why she plain out wanted to springboard into the water knowing she would risk getting ran over by a boat.