EXECUTIONER OR SAVIOUR. Pt. II

While I am pursuing the previous pathway upon which I originally set my azimuth, as a military man (which I am) is prone to say, it is important, I think, to reveal ‘the rest of the story.’

Before Colonel E. left the premises that afternoon, he did something he’d never done there, (or needed to do there) before. He sat down with the on-duty attendant, filled out adoptive papers, paid the $45 fee, quickly strode to Cage #7, opened the door, tenderly lifted Roxie out of what had been ‘the dead dog walking’ cell, and headed out the door with her. 

Suffice it to say that Colonel E. and Roxie, (as much as is possible on this side of heaven) ‘lived happily ever after.’ The precious pooch filled his life with joy and they spent several contented years together; (‘til the little canine went the way that all animals and people on earth must assuredly go).

I like to think Roxie somehow realized the fate from which she was spared, and the decision Colonel E. made that afternoon; whether to pursue the role of executioner …or saviour. 

Perhaps as she lay in Cage #7, waiting her almost certain fate, she felt a great deal like that humpback whale which had been hopelessly entangled in hundreds of feet of crab net. After floundering in the cold ocean surf for what might have been hours, and barely managing to reach the surface for an occasional breath, a sports fisherman discovered her unhappy condition, and radioed the fish and game authority for assistance.  

I suppose 'Jim' might have analyzed the situation, and allowed the poor  creature to die an agonizing death, but he surmised there might be a chance, if only a small one, that she could be saved. After watching the whale fight for life much longer that he would have preferred, several wildlife wardens navigated their dingy up to ‘the scene of the crime.’ Quickly donning air tanks, masks and utility belts, they plunged into the cold Pacific.

What they came to do, they set about doing. The task was tedious, as the humpback was almost hopelessly entangled, and the more she’d struggled, the worse it had become. However, as the three men cut here, and snipped there, it seems she settled down a bit; almost as if she realized what they were about, and began to cooperate with their efforts to release her from her bondage.

Ultimately, after perhaps an hour of concerted labor, the whale was free! 

What happened next surprised even the seasoned game wardens. For at this point, ‘Nettie’ (good name, don’t you think) swam up to one, and then the next, and ever so gingerly bumped against them with her flippers. Almost as if she were giving them a grateful ‘high five.’ At least, each of the wardens came away from the experience with that particular interpretation of the situation.

(to be continued)
 
By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 46. Copyright pending
 
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