"Ya just have to save the whales, don't ya??"

Well, it's not like I mean to, but I just can't walk away from someone or some animal in trouble. This time it was a dog stuck in a culvert and Matthew was just as upset as I was. We actually had a field trip that we needed to get to, but we just couldn't walk away. We tried to coax the dog out, but we could tell which way he was facing and that he wasn't going to get out that way. We went to the gas station to see what kind of help we could find. We got a shovel and a hoe to try to clear out some of the mud that was making the tube smaller, but some farmers showed up and could tell he was way too far back for that to work. They tried several different things, but finally decided to go get their bobcat and dig it out. They suggested that I call a good welder who might be able to cut the culvert open. I was trying to avoid that call. We went back to the gas station for some coffee while I tried to work up the courage to call my dad. By the time I found my courage, he was already there and calling me. That's when he started in on the whales... which, I'd like to say, I have never embarked on a project to save whales. Never. I asked if we could get a cougar once, but never a whale.

Anyhoo... these three poor farmers, who were already rained out and bored, showed up with the bobcat. I was feeling pretty bad at this point. This was looking more like a stray that we were pouring so much time and energy into saving, but it was hard to think about what else to do. You can walk away and let it die and stink up the place for a month or two, along with plugging up a culvert that is supposed to drain water. You can shoot the animal so it doesn't suffer, but that doesn't change the stink and plugged culvert. Or you can go along with the farmers who are well into the project that I never asked them to do and was very careful NOT to guilt them into it. They were the ones who called my dad, too, so why he said he's sending ME the bill is beyond me.

They got the dirt moved and the culvert exposed, then recalculated where they thought the dog was. Dad started cutting about 2-3 feet behind him, but it was noisy, smoky and scary and the dog managed to move a couple more feet away. They got it open and got in to see him and decided that no one could reach him, so they took Daddy home to fetch one of his leghold snares, a lot like an animal handler's pole. Patrick got it on the dog's back feet enough to pull him within reach, then pulled him out. The poor guy was exhausted and took a little water and just enjoyed the fresh air. They moved him over to solid ground where the kids and I tried to encourage him a bit while Dad welded the culvert back together and Patrick buried it again. The dog was up and walking around a bit when we were getting ready to leave, but he just couldn't get up and over the railroad tracks. Dad and Sam carried him over the tracks and he headed home, so we're hoping this story is over. Now I have an awful lot of cookies to bake to thank everyone!!