Have you had any heart-stopping moments in your life, where you suddenly realise disaster is imminent, but then is averted by the kind actions of someone else?
Yesterday I was going back and forth from the front to the back garden with huge armfuls of prunings, passing through the back gate, which is usually kept locked. I’d closed it after going through, in both directions, but without my realising, the catch hadn’t engaged properly and although it was ajar, the wind had blown it open a crack. Poppy seized her chance and got out on to the road, which has occasional but very fast traffic.
We had already lost our first dog 20 years ago, on that road, to a speeding van which didn’t even stop - another heart-stopping moment that didn’t turn out well. So when I realised Poppy wasn’t looking for rats behind the summer house any more, I had that awful moment when your heart is in your mouth and you can’t breathe properly and you dash to the scene - I ran as fast as I could round to the front of the house - only to see our neighbour opposite, on our drive with Poppy in her arms. Poppy had crossed the road and was sitting on Gaynor’s doorstep, waiting to be admitted. Gaynor has looked after her for us a couple of times and Poppy loves going there. She often suggests that it would be good if we went to Gaynor’s house, rather than out on a walk, when we set out in the morning. The relief was quite overwhelming.
Our biggest, and potentially even worse, heart-stopping moment was on Studland beach in 1973, when our kids were 3 and 5 years old. It was a typical wet and windy British Easter seaside day, and I was back in the sand dunes trying to get the stove to light so we could have a warming hot drink. Tony was helping the children make an ambitious sand castle. However, without him noticing because he was happily playing, they had wandered off to paddle. A passer by asked Tony if that was his child, face down in the water? Cassandra had been knocked over by a wave and was unable to get up because her lovely thick hand-knitted jersey was sopping wet and too heavy for her to get her balance. All was well - but it stuck in my mind ....
Yesterday I was going back and forth from the front to the back garden with huge armfuls of prunings, passing through the back gate, which is usually kept locked. I’d closed it after going through, in both directions, but without my realising, the catch hadn’t engaged properly and although it was ajar, the wind had blown it open a crack. Poppy seized her chance and got out on to the road, which has occasional but very fast traffic.
We had already lost our first dog 20 years ago, on that road, to a speeding van which didn’t even stop - another heart-stopping moment that didn’t turn out well. So when I realised Poppy wasn’t looking for rats behind the summer house any more, I had that awful moment when your heart is in your mouth and you can’t breathe properly and you dash to the scene - I ran as fast as I could round to the front of the house - only to see our neighbour opposite, on our drive with Poppy in her arms. Poppy had crossed the road and was sitting on Gaynor’s doorstep, waiting to be admitted. Gaynor has looked after her for us a couple of times and Poppy loves going there. She often suggests that it would be good if we went to Gaynor’s house, rather than out on a walk, when we set out in the morning. The relief was quite overwhelming.
Our biggest, and potentially even worse, heart-stopping moment was on Studland beach in 1973, when our kids were 3 and 5 years old. It was a typical wet and windy British Easter seaside day, and I was back in the sand dunes trying to get the stove to light so we could have a warming hot drink. Tony was helping the children make an ambitious sand castle. However, without him noticing because he was happily playing, they had wandered off to paddle. A passer by asked Tony if that was his child, face down in the water? Cassandra had been knocked over by a wave and was unable to get up because her lovely thick hand-knitted jersey was sopping wet and too heavy for her to get her balance. All was well - but it stuck in my mind ....
