Photo by John Goucher
Monday, March 1, I jumped into the Potomac River to save my dog Enzo, who had chased some geese and didn’t stop at the edge (he may not have seen it well, as he has only one eye). My nephew and I were walking him and we were on the grassy stretch near the Kennedy Center, where the river’s walls are steep and high and I couldn’t find anywhere nearby to direct my dog to take refuge or where I could clamber down to get him. I was in a panic.
A jogger stopped and said that going down the wall seemed the only thing to do. I half scrambled (holding onto some vines) half fell down. I could stand, with water up to my hips. I lifted my (42-pound) dog straight over my head, and the jogger instructed my nephew to hold his feet while he draped his body over the wall of the river. I hoisted Enzo up to him, and then he pulled me up, too.
My nephew Arthur, the dog Enzo, and I walked home all wet (we live in Georgetown) and we are both fine, but I sure wish that I could properly thank that level-headed jogger, who fortunately for us was as strong as he was kind and willing to help. I did say thank you, but I didn’t even think to ask his name. All I know is that he was there for us, in neon yellow running shorts, at around 4:45pm.“