In March in the mid Seventies, the remnants of a hurricane struck Washington County, Maryland with a fury. I hadn't bothered to keep abreast of the weather reports and would come to regret this blunder mightily. I don't even recall the name of this hurricane, I wish I did. My house stands on a forty foot ridge above Little Antietam Creek, so there is never any danger from floods. The rocky ridge drops steeply to a ten foot bank along the creek's edge. At the time, a cow fence constructed of two strands of wire cable with wooden slats bolted vertically to them spanned the creek twenty yards downstream from the house.

At seven am, I awakened to howling winds but was too fuzzy minded to notice. As usual, I opened the door to let my dog Dilly out. Big mistake. The banks of the creek were overflowing by two feet and the water was rushing past at a phenomenal rate. Directly across from the house, the roaring winds had snapped one of the mighty white willow trees that guarded the banks of the creek and the water formed a huge bow wave over the trunk.

And Dilly decided now was the time to go for a swim. He was perched forelimb deep on the edge of the bank getting ready to jump and I screamed at him "No Dilly, no! Come here!" But I needn't have bothered. In he went and was immediately carried away by the powerful current. He washed up against the cow fence where he furiously floundered, treading water. I raced down the hill and splashed into the freezing cold water. I didn't know what I was going to do, maybe work my way across the fence to try and save him but it was far too late, Dilly went under the surface. I was afraid he was going to drown but thank the heavens, after a few heart-freezing seconds, he resurfaced on the other side of the fence. He weakly paddled to the far shore and managed to climb out.

But we weren't out of the woods yet. Dilly anxiously paced back and forth, wondering what to do next. I could see him decide to just jump back in and swim back, nothing to it. What a dumb dog! I yelled at him again "No no Dilly, stay! Wait!" and luckily it worked. I guess his previous aquatic experience had taught him a lesson. I couldn't think of anything to do to save him. And once again Dilly took matters into his own paws. He ran towards the fallen tree and jumped up on top of trunk! He looked like a California surfer riding the banzai pipeline. I was more afraid for him than ever. And all of a sudden the answer hit me. There was a road bridge just one hundred yards upstream. If I could just get Dilly to go in that direction, everything might be okay.

I started yelling at him "Dilly, the bridge, the bridge. Dilly, the bridge!" And he jumped off the back side of the trunk and I lost sight of him. With fear in my heart, I ran towards the bridge. And here came Dilly wagging his tail like he had just accomplished something wonderful. Freezing cold and soaking wet at 7:30 in the morning, I blew my stack and whacked him terribly. I could see he didn't understand my anger and I still regret my indiscretion to this day. I should have shown more love and compassion. And ever since, I have kept my eye on all weather reports.