Today I thought I'd tell you about a moment in time that scared the living daylights out of me, way back when Samantha was a toddler and we had just moved into a new house out in the country.
We had two big dogs, Alex and Sargent, and I felt quite at ease when home alone with them at night. Alex was a strong muzzled black lab, a good 90 pounds of muscle, although on most days, he preferred to be known as a soft, lumpy lap dog and could frequently be found in the kitchen, sniffing around for food. Sargent was a Ridgeback mix, short, wiry, and loyal to the core. He was my best bud, too.
Rick was out one night and I was alone in the living room, probably watching TV or something. I heard a growl come in from the other side of the house, a long, low, rumbling growl. It was followed by a series of angry barks, the kind of barks that say that someone is right there in the house.
It was the kind of growl that makes the hairs on your neck stand up on end and sets every fiber of your being on edge. If I hadn't had Samantha, I might have run right out of the house. But as it was, the dog was standing at the edge of the hallway and at the other end of that hallway was the bedroom where my daughter slept.
Every hair on HIS back was standing at attention. Almost immediately, Alex began barking too, only he was outside at the time. I remember standing up to work my way toward toward the back door to let him in. I opened the door, held onto his collar and he started to drag me toward the hall. I made him detour through the kitchen where I grabbed a knife.
And then suddenly Sargent jumped backward, and at that moment I let go of Alex and grabbed the phone.
Well he ran around that corner in a New York second with Sargent charging right along beside him. My sixth sense kicked as I realized not a sound had come out of Alex, no barking or sounds of scuffle. I rounded the corner and saw what was causing all the commotion.
A big helium birthday balloon was bouncing around the a/c vent on the ceiling in the darkened hallway, all by itself. There in the darkness, it was terrorizing my dog. I exhaled, and turned to look at Sargent, who was staring at me in horror. He was furious.
Alex wasn't even interested. He had run right underneath the terrorist balloon, and was now sniffing around in Sam's room, wagging his tail, trying to figure out what the fuss was all about.
Samantha was sound asleep. I looked at the angry Sargent and turned on the hall light to calm both of us down. My legs had turned to rubber several minutes earlier.
I don't remember whether Sam woke up from it all, or what I did afterward. I don't even remember why I didn't call the police first (good thing I didn't!). All I remember is the sound of that growl, and my heart about to jump right out of my chest.
Good old Sargent. I do miss the ol' boy, nutty as he was.
Ever have a moment like this, a heart stopping moment that turns out to be nothing at all?
Recent Comments