A few minutes later, I ended up thanking him profusely as did my doggy by dancing, twirling, back flipping and jumping for joy.
A Good Samaritan to our rescue!
Sometimes I want to curse the fishermen that leave their garbage strewn around their fishing spot. From cans of corn to wiggly worm containers and the ubiquitous cheap beer cans. Ever wonder what the cheapest beer in that particular zip code is? Do some volunteer litter picking up and you will quickly find out.
I was walking the doggy and we both like water and lakes, so we ended up at the edge of the gorgeous pond in the campground. We have a nice view of it from the camp but being able to walk down to it, seemed like a good idea. There were some sunny spots we were enjoying. Puppy was sniffing around, checking and leaving pee-mail. I was admiring the reflected beauty in the lake (the trees not me!)
My doggy was using his leash to inch me closer to the lake so he could inspect it better. Suddenly he is having fits, dancing around and biting at his legs. Then in his semi-panic he ran up and around me for help and now I too could feel and see the problem.
He was hopelessly tangled in sturdy but invisible fishing line. It had snagged his tiny legs and his quick movements had tightened it around him and his limbs. The more he panicked, the worse it got. In his haste to get my attention and assistance, he managed to tangle it around my ankles so I was cobbled and hobbled in a nano second. In short order, neither of us could move without extreme pain. Poor little pooch let out a cry of despair which alerted the beefy man sitting up the hill.
I was trying to break the stuff and it must have been for 600 pound marlin. I couldn't' break anything. Doggie is dancing up a storm and crying cause his wittle paws hurt from the nearly invisible line cutting off the circulation. He was biting at it but not making any headway either. My feet were going numb as our tangled tango tighten the line like a noose around my ankles.
Luckily a nice older man with a big leather cowboy hat was sitting nearby watching his grown daughter go kayaking. After helping her launch, he had dragged his chair down to the lake to soak up some sun and scenes.
When he saw doggie and I doing the tangled tango, he jumped up, pulled out a super sharp knife coming to our rescue.
Even he was amazed at how quickly a panicked pup had managed to tie up both up. With a few deft swoops of his knife, he had us freed. He even helped us corral all the errant fishing line into a doggy poop baggie so we could save future generations from this thoughtlessly discarded malady.
We ended up chatting for so long, that his daughter finished kayaking. Turns out they were refugees from the low country of South Carolina which had just been hit by hurricane Matthew. I thought it rather prudent to pack up kayaks while departing a hurricane and possible flood zone. They were laughing about it too. They figured if they came to swollen roads, they could abandon the truck and trailer and just glide away in the kayaks.
Back at my RV I carry a small knife on my mail box key ring for opening letters and packages. Well I removed that and reattached it to my dog walking key chain which has the RV key, the bicycle lock key and now the small Swiss Army knife.
We will be better prepared for our next adventure!