Ask anyone who knows me and they’ll tell you I have a soft spot for animals. Seeing them happy makes me happy, and I have a long history of rescuing strays and finding them new homes – or adopting them myself. My dealings with a little brown stray dog, and my brush with an honest to goodness hero, started on a Monday afternoon. I was driving home from Stowe, through the Worcester woods on VT Rte. 12, when all of a sudden there she was: a terrified little brown ball of fur, running down the centerline and veering toward the guard rail as oncoming traffic approached. I was so worried for her life on that treacherous stretch of road that I skidded to a stop and tried to catch her before she was injured or killed.
Unfortunately, as soon as I got out of my car, she bolted off the side of the road and into the woods. I called for her and waited, and when she didn’t come out of the woods I realized how frightened she was; she would not come to me. I made my way to a home just down the road. The owners explained that she was not theirs; they had been trying to feed and/or capture the dog for four or five days to no avail. They said they were sure that someone had just dumped her off and left her to die. That comment made me even more certain I had to get her to safety.
For the next few days, even if I was traveling north from Montpelier, I would pass through Worcester hoping to see the animal, but I could not find her. Finally, on Thursday, heading south again from Stowe, I said a little prayer: “Please let me help this dog.” Sure enough, the dog appeared, running next to the guard rail in the same spot I had seen her before. I braked and pulled into a small turnout. Some other vehicles also stopped, but when they realized they were not missing a moose sighting they sped away, with the exception of some ladies who shared my concern for the dog.
I took a sandwich from my car and went over the riverbank where the pup had disappeared, hoping to entice her with food. I could see her, but again she was so frightened that every time I approached she would run away, staying on the far side of the stream. As scared as she was, though, I could tell she was interested in my sandwich and the pieces I had tossed onto the far bank to try to persuade her near.
Suddenly, a voice behind me said, “I have a leash. Can I help you get her?”
I turned around to see a young woman dressed in what appeared to be her work clothes. Without a moment’s hesitation she said, “I’m not afraid to get a little wet,” and plowed through the cold water to the other side of the stream. She immediately dropped to one knee and started coaxing the dog with part of the food I had thrown. I followed her lead through the water, hoping to help.
The dog started to move toward us; my guess is that the pup suddenly realized, “I’ve had enough of 10 or so days in the cold and wet.” At that point her new “best friend,” and my story’s hero, slipped the leash around her neck. The woman looked down at this frightened animal and started talking to her, soothing her and petting her fur, and the dog became amazingly calm. Clutching the leash tightly, she scooped up the canine and we made our way back up the swampy path and to the cars.
The woman’s friend had stayed by the vehicles and I soon found out why when she opened the door. In the backseat there was a wonderful little boy who immediately started petting and loving on the dog.
He threw his hands into the air and hollered “yeah!” when I told him “your mom is a super hero.” The woman got a kick out of that, telling me he was “really into super heroes.”
As we started to discuss what to do next, the dog jumped into the front seat of her car and lay down. The decision was made. She took the dog to the Central Vermont Humane Society, where the pup was adopted within a week!
I'm not at liberty to unmask the identity of this super hero, but if you find yourself at the Union Bank on Lower Main Street, then you can feel safe because you’re at the headquarters of a super hero: one of the people in this world who truly cares!
