Haydn looks out over the highways

the lake is shallow, one of the two centennial lakes left from the 1876 fair.  An old man, with a nice strap hat, dressed well, but informal, was sitting on the lip, looking like he was a jumper.
but it was only a three foot drop and the water maybe 5 to 8 inches deep.
I started past, but my curiosity make me turn right and circle back,
"you fine"

I came close enough to see a dog standing out of reach broken through the ice, standing facing us.
"how long has he been there?"
"10-15 minutes"
Yo,  come on boy,  yo, we called an sweet talked and tried to reach but he was just beyond my finger tips.

I took the leash from the man and made a slip noose and just got lucky, with it going over his head,
and it was simple from there.
pulled him in, hefted him up.
I did not let him go.  I love dogs.  I just rub him and squeezed him,  rubbed his paws and he wormed loose and had a funny smile, happy and guilty.

                                                thee  captured culprit, "baxter"

I went on for the rest of my light snow ride, just an easy spin on the sscx.   I swung by to say cheers to Haydn,   Despite his place in life, things, I don't know, we not so bad?
He looks out over a highway.

a fire, a new book to start,  Dylan Thomas,  I have not read anything by him so keeping up with my Welsh kick, he is in the fold.   Its a - "Portrait of the Artist as a a Young Dog".

warm toes, good spirits, big smiles today!
cheers, dlowe.

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