It looked like so much fun! I could hear the laughter from the parking log. A group of kids from the local high school were using inner-tubes and snow-saucers to slide down a very long, steep, muddy hill. The mud was everywhere. Some of them had used it as war-paint on their faces.
Rainie and I were heading towards them after hiking up a different trail. As we walked, Rainie was becoming very nervous, trying to lead me toward the voices… faster… and faster. By the time we neared the kids, she was dancing frantic circles around me. I let her go and told her to “Go Say Hi” to the hoard of welcoming kids. She dashed into the group, nosing every teen she passed, while avoiding the hands reaching out to pet her. She found who she was searching for – one particular boy who had run most-of-the-way up the hill. Rainie stopped in front of him and stared. She then turned to another one of his friends and jumped up, as if to try to tell him something. Then she returned to staring at the boy.
As I watched, I realized she was alerting the boy, and trying to tell the other kids that he needed help. As I approached, she leaped toward me, and led me to him. “Why won’t she leave me alone! What’s she doing?”–he was obviously annoyed. I quickly told him that Rainie is a diabetic alert dog and she’s acting the way she does when my blood sugar is dropping. I asked, “Are you diabetic?” “Yes,” he answered. I asked him whether he had a meter, and he said he’d left it at home. After he sat down (with a concerned Rainie on his lap), I did his blood sugar with my meter. It was 51. Having nothing of his own to eat, I gave him some of my glucose tablets. By this time, he had become shaky and disoriented.
After things settled down, Rainie was one happy dog! There were so many people rubbing her belly that I can only imagine she must have known, somehow, that she was a star. (A very muddy star, but a star none-the-less!)
All day I’ve been musing, wondering, how often do we have the chance to possibly save someone’s life?