My Co-Captain Jumped Ship Yesterday

Meet Roxy, my paddleboarding co-captain.

She goes with me almost every time I go out in the Sound.

Yesterday we set out on the water around 5 PM in the stunning sunshine – no clouds in the sky, no wind, calm water, and warm air. The perfect antidote to the wavering weather lately. Life’s been pretty hard this past year, and I have a lot of things consuming my mind. I needed the time out in nature. After an hour we headed toward shore, but I realized I wasn’t ready to go back to life on land. I turned the board around and headed back across the water in the direction of the Lummi preserve where the sun felt the strongest and the water was the calmest.

After floating over three massive separate schools of fish, their backs almost skimming my board above, and taking in the warm liquid solace below the Lummi bluffs, we rounded the rocks with our sights on Crescent Beach.

I realized some twin juvenile otters were frolicking in the water just ahead of us as they followed their mother ahead. The moment she caught wind of us, she climbed out of the water and ran up the bluff, causing a gaggle of geese to hiss protectively as they watched her every movement. I suppose she was trying to pull our attention away from her babies and toward her. I had never heard the high-pitched squeaking sounds of young otters anxiously calling their mother until then, almost the same sound as the birds that were chirping above them at the same time. I made a mental note to remember how to distinguish between the two in case I hear the sounds again someday.

Not a few minutes farther along, a large bald eagle swooped down near us, perhaps checking Roxy’s size to see if she’d fit in its talons. A little too weighty, it must have thought. So on its second circle down, it landed casually on a rock not 20 feet away and began watching the water 2 feet below for signs of fish a little smaller than my doggy while another eagle landed on a branch above to watch. It was the closest I’ve ever been to an eagle, and it seemed to have no fear of me at all. It was beautiful.

From there, we crossed Ship Bay and arrived in the waters below the end of Montgomery Lane.

A group of 6 curious seals popped their heads up and watched us as we glided over dark, deep water until we were floating over the crystal-clear shallows. A young, brazen bald eagle with flecked feathers flew fast and close, checking us out while keeping a keen eye on the fish potential below us. It hovered above nervous geese, then dropped down quickly to skim along the water, talons ready to make a quick grab. Nothing materialized and it flew away as we started back. I decided that since the shallow water was so beautiful, we would paddle toward Crescent Beach and parallel the shore on our way home.

Roxy was beginning to stand more precariously close to the edge of the bow, pawing the air now and then. I wasn’t sure if she was curious about the water or simply wanting to jump in to cool off. A few minutes later, I learned that Roxy had reached her limit of paddleboarding for the day.

As we paddled along next to the same beach we’ve walked hundreds of times together, she leapt off the board, swam 15 feet to shore, shook off, and began to run home. She was done with watersports for the day. I had never seen her do such a thing, but then again I hadn’t gone on such a long paddle in over a year. The only time she’d ever run home before was when she was staying with a friend while we were away traveling. She jumped out of their window and took off on the road, surviving the oncoming cars until she got to our back door.

I took a few strokes, pulled the board up the beach, threw my shorts over my swimsuit, grabbed my flip flops and her leash, and started running after her. Every time she would stop and look back at me, I would stop as quickly as possible and pat my leg nonchalantly for her to come back. Then every time she’d look forward again, I’d sprint ahead. She’s deaf, so I knew she’d hear nothing I called out to her unless it was in a really high pitch.

While running, I could see a couple down at the other end of the beach, watching us curiously. We were coming upon them quickly, and I called out to have them stop her. She’s a little rescue from the California Desert who was found on a leash attached to a tree in a backyard where no one lived. There’s no telling what kinds of things she went through in her young life, but we know she was mistreated, dislikes leash walks, and knows how to avert things when she needs to. She averted the couple quickly and headed up the beach toward the street. Uh oh!!!

In a heartbeat, Roxy was running in the lane of oncoming traffic. Thank goodness traffic here means a few cars now and then, but I was in a full-on sprint at that point to stay on her tail. I knew that if I reached down to grab her while running, I would give up a split second of speed and miss her. I also didn’t want her to feel that all of a sudden I was chasing her. Boy, did she know what she wanted. I slowed to a walk, hoping she would look back and change her mind.

By that time, the cars in the other lane behind me had slowed to a creep. I was so thankful of Orcas people at that moment, giving us space to figure out this quickly developing conundrum. What a spectacle we had become, too! But Roxy was galloping fast toward the curve in the road, and there was nothing I could do. A car going at fairly good speed started coming down the road in her lane, and I motioned frantically from back where I was for them to stop. Thankfully, the driver saw this little near-camouflaged dog in front of him before it was too late. The woman in the passenger seat jumped out of the car, agile and ready to help. I yelled up to her to not let Roxy pass her and to push her back in my direction. With quick movements, she dashed from one side of the car to the other as Roxy tried to get around her. In a few seconds, the woman had been enough of a contender that Roxy turned around and ran back toward me. I squatted down, patted my legs casually, and connected her collar to the leash. Shwoooooo!!! Thank you, community!!!

Roxy’s my little sweet girl. I swooped her up in my arms and held her, tummy up, cradled like a baby as I walked back down the beach toward the paddleboard. How can you fault someone when they’ve gotten to their end of being on the water for the day? She couldn’t talk, couldn’t tell me she was over it. So she took matters in her own hands. Paws. Totally understandable.

I attached her leash to one of the metal rings on the board and petted her lovingly as we slipped back out on the water’s surface, headed toward home.

She’d never been happier to be sprayed off on the lawn, dried off in a towel, and let in the screen door at our house.

The weather is stunning again today. There’s a feeling of fun and freedom in the air. As I head out for another warm paddle on the water in a few minutes, I think I’ll give her a break.

Thank you immensely to the couple on the beach yesterday who tried to help redirect Roxy, to all of the people on the road next to Crescent Beach who slowed down to give our little spectacle some safe space, and to the woman who jumped out of the stopped car and wouldn’t let Roxy pass. You saved Roxy’s life yesterday. If not for you, our littlest family member may not have survived the run home along the road.