Lake Placid 4: Stubby's Revenge

This year my parents moved to a new house back East and brought with them this corgie you see before you. His name is Stubby on account of his short little legs. Yes, he is cute. He is also one dumb motherfucker.

In this little bitty town there is a swamp across the street from a big lake. In this swamp are alligators. My parents have told me many times that in the history of the lake, not once have the alligators crossed the street into the lake. I am skeptical, but trusting. Two days ago my mom and I drove by the swamp and saw four gators out sunning themselves. I thought is was so cool, I decided to ride her bike down the road to get pictures of them.

Stubby doesn't get out of his pen much, so as I began to ride Mom's bike down the driveway he began his adorable and pitiful barking.

He's dumb as a post, but Stubby's a very good dog and he has no problem trotting around off leash. Besides, this is the kind of town where everybody's dog wanders at will so nobody bats an eye if a cute little corgie wanders hither and yon on his own. My parents don't let him out much though, because their neighbor is a horrible bitch and she has it in for him.

So anyway, could you resist that dog? No. Nobody with a heart could. So I said to Stubby, look Stubby. You will run alongside this bike as I go to photograph the gators sunning themselves in the swamp.

Stubby hates swimming. HATES. Freaks completely out when he's walked anywhere near a swamp or a lake or a pool or an ocean. So I wasn't worried about him going anywhere near the swamp and the gators. I brought along an old short rusty chain link leash just in case he gave me trouble.

So I biked on down the road and he trotted along, occasionally stopping to sniff the foliage. He was happy as a pig in shit.

Along the way I saw this alligator:

Yes the swamp is currently a little overrun with algae.

Now that I've gotten my picture of an alligator I decided to double back and head home. Stubby's very furry and has very tiny legs, and at this point his tongue was practically dragging the ground, so I figured if he could talk he'd probably admit defeat and ask if we could go.

I turned around and started biking, stopping periodically and calling Stubby to me when a car went by. He'd sit there and wait, and then start jogging as soon as the car past.

So we went along like this for a while until one car came along and I called him to me, but he didn't come. He ran into some bushes and failed to reappear. I called again. Nothing. I thought I heard a splash, so naturally at this point I'm convinced that Stubby has been gobbled up by an alligator. Great. I killed my mom's dog.

I rushed over and didn't see the dog anywhere. But suddenly there was frantic splashing, and there he was, down in the water, scraping at the embankment with his mud filled paws.

Stubby decided that neon green water was a lovely drink and forgot that he had short-ass legs.

As I leaned over to grab his forelegs and wrestle him back on land, I thought to myself, this is how horror movies start. This is also how stories about rednecks who die saving their dogs start.

I braced one leg on a tree. I did not look for an alligator because I figured seeking out a green lizard in green water would require too much time, time I could be grabbing this goddamn dog. I pulled his forelegs up and used my right hand to push his butt the rest of the way, then I got the fuck out of there before all that splashing got us eaten.

Naturally, Stubby was filthy and now, so was I. I put that short rusty leash on his filthy neck and walked him and the bike back to the lake. I dragged him in to clean him off, at which point he panicked and splashed his way back to the dock. Once on the dock, he immediately rubbed his face in bird poop.

At this point I threw my hands up and he trotted his furry little ass back to the house, not a care in the world.