We, on the other hand, had something of a hellacious weekend.
(That is on the other hand from Madison's brother, who was strutting his winning ways ...)
Picture this, another normal and ordinary Saturday morning, 7am, and Madison and H-Mom are on the way to the dog park, driving our well-traveled route along a neighborhood 4-lane street, divided with a grassy median.
Like a bat out of that proverbial h-e-l-l comes a silver car, blowing right through a stop sign from a little residential side street.
And crash. H-Mom's car was on its own, rolled onto the roof, then back over again, and H-Mom just remembers the world getting really really really small, and screaming "Madison" "Madison" "Madison" over and over, until the car stopped moving. That is H-Mom's car, the white one, on its side, right where it came to a crunching halt.
It took a second for H-Mom to realize she was able to move, and she started shouting "get me out of here, kick out the window" to the people who were running over. And she looked in the back of the car, trying to see Madison, and hoping NOT to see Madison, all at the same time. H-Mom was afraid that Madison was under the car, or laying in the street.
It was horrible. You can imagine. One of the bystanders helped H-Mom climb out the back window of the Explorer. She has no idea how she managed to twist herself out of the driver's seat and through the wreck.
She was just saying the whole time, "Where is my dog?" "We have to find Madison ..." and some of the bystanders started to walk around looking for her, and some even got in their cars to drive the neighborhood.
The police got there and couldn't believe that H-Mom (standing up) was the driver of the sideways car. And H-Mom was saying "Find my dog ... put it on the police radio ..."
She was getting frantic. She had to sit in the ambulance and then Man-dad came racing up in his truck. Calls were made to friends from the dog park, and some of our dearest, dearest, dearest friends came to the accident scene and then started cruising the streets, looking for Madison. Then two Fort Lauderdale detectives, in an unmarked car, said that they would keep an eye out for Madison, and drive around a bit. The fire truck said they would drive back through the cemetery down the street and see if Madison was tucked up there.
It was amazing. About 45 minutes later (H-Mom's sense of time is pretty fuzzy here), there was a radio call to the police on the scene that Madison was found.
Man-dad got in his truck to go to the location, not knowing what he would find.
The two detectives found Madison sitting on the train tracks, the BIG train tracks, about a mile away, just barking. They called her, and she came over to them.
When Man-dad got there, she was sitting next to the unmarked police car, just waiting for him.
Madison appears to be fine, five days later. No worse for wear, a little jumpy, but already back to her routine. H-Mom is bruised and scratched, and finding glass in her ears ... and totally exhausted by the trauma of it all. But we are home and alive.
And for that, we have to thank our angels. And our incredible friends. And the neighbors. And the most incredible Fort Lauderdale police and fire departments.
What happened to Madison? We don't know if she got thrown out of the car or if she ran out the busted windows. And how she navigated street traffic, and why she finally stopped running and sat down. It is all rather unbelievable.
And H-mom is so thankful that Madison is okay. But, she laughs, Madison is no "RinTinTin."
What about pulling her out of the wreck by the shirt sleeve and licking your human's face until help comes?
This story is missing a lot of parts, and should be so much longer, but it always, thank goodness, has a decent ending. And a very special place on the sofa. For years and years to come.
Hug your hounds. Kiss the ones you love.
