Man's Best Friend 
2003 Reader Submission
Pending Acceptance
Upon reading the urban legend regarding the stick of dynamite and the retriever, I was chagrined to remember that I was once nearly a Darwin Award candidate.
I was strolling one fine day along the Kanawah canal in Richmond Virginia with my fishing rod. Soon I was joined by a good-sized canine who looked to be mostly golden retriever. He was wearing a collar, obviously well cared for, friendly and good company, so we walked on together.
When I reached a particularly bucolic spot I stopped to cast my line. Like a shot, the mostly-retriever followed centuries of instinct and leapt into the canal. I hurriedly reeled in my line so the pooch would not get a mouth full of fish hook and he swam disappointedly back to shore.
I should mention at this point that some parts of this venerable old waterway are lined by concrete retaining walls and it became immediately obvious that this fellow had no way to scale these walls. While the water was not what a human would call deep, even large breed dogs can not swim in 4 or 5 feet of water for long without drowning.
He was nearly strong enough to scrabble up and out of the canal, so I decided to try to grab his collar and give him the extra lift he needed to scale the wall and escape his doom.
Of course, he had decided the best way to rescue himself was to grab hold of me whilst I was trying to grab hold of him. Unfortunately, not being blessed with opposable thumbs, there is only one way a dog may grab - and it involves teeth.
After many painful and unsuccessful efforts to grab the collar behind that wildly snapping head, it became obvious the dog was tiring. Maybe I could give him a branch to grab and haul him out? I looked around, no branches. The only option I could think of was to climb down into the water and attempt to lift my new "friend" out.
If you have never had a life or death struggle with a frenzied 90 pound dog of brief acquaintance in 5 feet of water I can tell you I don't recommend it. After much scratching, biting and dunking I must say the dog won. Ignoring all my efforts to take hold of and lift him to safety, he eventually managed to use me as an ersatz ramp and scramble up my body onto the bank.
I crawled up onto the shore, grateful that it had been a freshwater canal, or else the amount of blood in the water would surely have attracted sharks. Submitted on 09/12/2002
Submitted by:
Alan Hussey
Reference:
Personal Acct/HonorableMention
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