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.