There are two stories that you are about to hear that are not new. One is old, tired, and maddening and the other is a jolt of sunshine. The first tale I would love to see go away in its entirety. Forever. The second story, I'd read that everyday, even though the tale is the same.
Here we go.
A friend of mine posted on her Facebook page about an accident she had recently. She was walking her puppy in downtown Tacoma on the sidewalk down a major arterial street during a busy time of day for the downtown area. She tripped and fell, releasing the puppy's leash upon impact with the concrete. She hit her head, banged up knees, hands, and arms. As she lay there in pain, terrified her young pup would run off into the street and get hit by the speeding cars, NO ONE stopped to help and see if she was okay. Not ONE person pulled over their car, stopped in their tracks, came out of their businesses, or stopped what they were doing to help. NOT ONE.
Fortunately, the puppy came right back to her owner and laid next to her until she was able to regain herself. Although my friend was injured and incredibly sore, she is going to be just fine. And obviously the dog is safe too. Thank goodness for both.
Yet, the outcome may have been far more grave though. What if it was? Shame, shame, shame for no one stopping! C'mon, South Sounders, let's do a heckuva lot more than that! Outrageous.
Yesterday, my 10 month old puppy somehow managed to get out of our backyard through an errant board in our fence and ended up in the yard behind us. My heart skipped a beat because I knew that those neighbors didn't have a fully fenced yard and that meant one thing: access for a scared young dog to get hit by a car in the busy street right by my home.
I was unable to hoist myself over the fence (too tall). So, I raced out the front door (in slippers no less) and tore down the street as fast as I could run. I found my dog shaking in fear sitting in a neighbor's driveway a couple of blocks away. I scooped her up in my arms and carried her home. It had started to rain really hard and I was huffing and puffing from the fastest sprint I had done since my track days in school.
As I was chugging along carrying my 45 pound dog, a car pulls over with two young men who had concerned looks on their faces. They couldn't have been more than 18 years old.
"Hey, is your dog okay? Are you okay? Is there anything we can do to help you?" The words spilled out with sincerity and a sense of urgency. I explained what happened and by that time was about a half a block away from my home. They said they were glad everyone was okay and again offered to assist me and my wet and muddy dog. I thanked them profusely and told them how grateful I was that they stopped and offered assistance. They looked at me funny, as if their faces read, "Well, why wouldn't we stop?"