A lesson about independence I almost learned the hard way

Early last Thursday morning, I followed Tito, my dog, onto a log to cross a creek. We’ve done it hundreds of times.

This time, just before we got to the far side, a beaver slipped into the water through the heavy brush.

Tito stopped. Tried to turn around.

And fell in.

After scrambling onto rocks, he was stuck in a cold creek running fast through thick woods and brush. 6 feet below me.

I took off my boots and socks and climbed down into the creek.

Tried to lift him back onto the log. The top was over my head and he weighs 62 pounds. Not a chance.

Decided against letting him find his own way out. If he couldn’t swim against the current, he’d be down the creek and out of sight in 2 seconds.

On the other side of the log, 10 feet upstream, shallower water sparkled in the sun.

I climbed up and over the log (thanks, adrenaline!). I coaxed him through the dark water under it.

We walked to the shallows and onto a rocky trail.

The whole episode took about 10 minutes.

But it scared the poop out of me.

Because no one knew where we were. No cell service out there.

If either one of us had been hurt, the only option would have been waiting for someone to walk that way.

Since we moved here 5 years ago, I’ve been in the woods every day.

I go in whatever direction calls me. When I tell my partner, “This will be a short one”, I mean it. But I often return 2 hours later.

Tito once came home alone after chasing deer. When I got there, my partner was leaving to look for me.

After that, I downloaded a GPS locator app at my partner's request. Then I stopped using it.

I forgot to take my phone. Remembered it, but didn’t have a pocket. Or didn’t want to take my boots off to go back inside to get it.

The creek showed me what was really going on.

Intimate relationships always involve some tension between independence and connection. Two people rarely have identical drives for alone time and 'us' time.

My walks in the woods are sublime alone time. Being phone-less makes them more blissful.

But my insistence on this independence has been selfish.

I’m grateful I learned this lesson through an imagined injury.

Not a real one.

Me, my dog, and my phone from now on.