“NELLIE’S IN THE (WINDOW) WELL”

Nellie after nerve-racking event

I keep tabs on Nellie. She tends to wander a bit when left to her own devices, but she doesn’t hear well enough to heed our call -- and/or she doesn't care. So, if she wants to go out, I go with her. Mike is a little more – well, lax.

Last night after dark, Nellie was “helping” Mike clean birds, and as that operation wound down, she disappeared. She can be gone in a flash, let me tell you, and like a kid, she knows when your attention is elsewhere. Usually when this happens, she returns shortly, but an hour went by and she wasn’t back. We were concerned, and I was quietly beside myself.

Before we went to bed, Mike and I drove through the neighborhood looking for her. Sometimes that works but not this time. Tired though I was, I was unable to sleep and stayed up until midnight watching for her. Mike left the kennel ajar in case she ambled up in the wee hours. When she wasn’t here at dawn’s first light, we knew she was either trapped someplace, or something unthinkable had happened to her. You know, she’ll be 15 on September 11, so the unthinkable might happen anytime. She’s no longer a valuable dog, but she is a beloved pet.

This morning, before I was even dressed, I checked at the neighbors. Then I got dressed and skirted around the field behind our house – no easy feat. And it’s so maddening because she could be just around a corner and I wouldn’t see her. I tried to think like an old Shorthair. Mike also watched for her when he took Bess for her morning exercise. (Bess, by the way, showed an extreme lack of concern.)

Mike and I met back at the house and planned next steps. Nellie wears contact info on her collar, so he thought someone might call, but I just couldn’t sit and wait. I said I would take another walk. Mike suggested driving, but something in me said I wouldn’t find her that way. So, I walked a neighborhood loop, up one street and then over and down the next, peering in yards as discreetly as I could. The only activity was someone mowing a lawn and the police making an arrest. (“You’ll have to sit in the back seat, and I’ll need to cuff you.”) I was just about home – just passing the first house on our block – when I heard a scuffling sound, a whine, and a high-pitched yelp. I knew it was Nellie, and I couldn’t approach that house fast enough. There she was in a deep window well, obviously no worse for wear but wanting out in the worst way.

But – I knew I had to get help. She can’t help herself much, and if I got into the well to boost her out, then I risked being trapped. Just imagine that – Nellie would dash on home and probably never tell Mike that I was stuck in a window well nearby. Someone at least had to know where I was. So, I ran on home for Mike and let him do the work. He got in the window well, boosted Nellie out, and then handily jumped out himself.

Once out of the window well, Nellie was home well ahead of the rest of us. Mike had said that if she was trapped, she would be thirsty. This proved to be the case. I think she spent three minutes at the water pail. Then she licked a plate, curled up on a pillow, and went to sleep. KW