06/26/2025
Hi! My name’s Rex, and you’re probably wondering how I got here...
See, it all started with a bunny. Or maybe it was a squirrel. Or possibly a leaf doing an extremely convincing impression of a bunny riding a squirrel. Whatever it was, it was very fast and extremely chaseable. One minute I was in my yard, sniffing things of great importance, and the next, I was in a strange new land, one filled with big lakes that smelled… funky.
But do I let a little stink stop me? Absolutely not. I’m a swimmer. A splasher. A certified water dog! So I did what any self-respecting adventurer would do: I cannonballed right in. Tail wagging, tongue flapping, water flying. I was having the time of my life doing my best river otter impression (if river otters had absolutely no sense of direction or self-preservation).
That’s when I saw it. A shiny metal tunnel at the edge of the weird lake. It looked mysterious. Magical. Possibly full of fish. Or cheese. Or fish with cheese. Naturally, I crawled right in. That… was my first mistake.
Because the tunnel? It didn’t lead to cheese. It led to a cliff. A very tall drop-off. Like, at least 100 tennis balls high. Maybe 150 if you stack them carefully. I peered over the edge and immediately thought, “Oh no. Nope. Nooope. I am not a cat. I do not land on my feet. I land on my face. Or my majestic behind. Or both.”
I tried to back out the way I came. Wiggle. Scooch. Reverse wiggle. No luck. My glorious rump, powerful and fluffy, was officially wedged. I was stuck. Like peanut butter on the roof of your mouth. Like bubblegum in tail fur. Like a meatball in a straw. Very, very stuck.
So I barked. I boofed. I whined. And finally, humans appeared! They looked at me. Then at the pipe. Then back at me. I could tell they were thinking, “Is that a dog?” and “How did this happen?” and probably, “Oh no, we’re gonna have to call someone.”
And they did! Out rolled a big truck, and out hopped a real-life Animal Law Enforcement officer. She looked into the pipe and blinked a few times, like she was trying to make sure I wasn’t a swamp hallucination. I wiggled my head and barked to make sure she knew I was real, and she said, “We’re gonna get you out, buddy, but I’m gonna need some help.”
Enter: The Fire Department.
A big red fire truck arrived, lights flashing, full of heroes. Firefighters jumped out, looked at the scene, and made the exact same face you make when your burrito falls apart halfway through eating it. But they didn’t give up on me. They brought out a GIANT bucket on a giant arm. Next thing I knew, I was being scooped up like a very dirty, mildly confused prize from a claw machine. I was lifted into the air like royalty (royalty who smelled like a garbage can during a heatwave), and slowly lowered to safety.
Once I was on solid ground again, the officer checked my collar and gave someone a call. I did my best to thank every firefighter with kisses and wildly uncoordinated tail slaps. And then came the second-worst part of the day.
The bath.
Apparently, those “lakes” I was swimming in? Not lakes. Not even ponds. They were something called “sewage.” I don’t know what sewage is, but based on the industrial-strength scrubbing I received, I don't think it's a good thing.
I tried to explain that I smelled adventurous. Like a dog, Indiana Jones would hang out with. She said I smelled “disgusting.” We agreed to disagree, but only after she washed every inch of me. Twice.
Then, I heard the best sound in the universe: my dad’s voice.
He came bursting through the door, arms open, eyes wide, yelling my name like I was the final contestant in a game show. I leapt into his arms, gave him one enormous, soggy, kiss.
Thank you, Officer Mauerman (even though you betrayed me with a bath), and thank you to the amazing crew at South Metro Fire Rescue for rescuing this very goofy, very curious, very stuck pup. I may be a little ridiculous, but thanks to you, I’m safe, I’m clean, and I’m home. And I definitely learned my lesson! No more swimming in smelly mystery lakes, pinky paw promise. 🐾
