Stephen The Dog: Life On Three Legs

This past week, Stephen and I were hiking off-leash around Fresh Pond, an urban oasis for dogs in Cambridge. He was hopping along, as he does on his three legs, and I was enjoying the fresh spring rays that were streaming through the trees. There was this great moment, when Stephen was waiting for me as I rounded the bend, and I thought: three legs or not, this guy is the dog of my childhood dreams; we are one sweet team together. 


And then he took off. Ran like a greyhound, focused and unbelievably efficient for missing a hind leg. At first I was proud of his grace and power - and then I panicked. He was heading straight towards a small pond and his eyes were locked on two feathered and squawking prizes.  It had only been a year since cancer had taken his limb. Could he even swim? We bought him that life jacket, just in case, but I didn’t really know his liquid limitations after the amputation.  Would Stephen drown? 

I raced after Stephen, imagining how uncomfortable the the long walk back to the car would be after I throw myself into the pond to rescue dear old pup. When I arrived at the pond, however, I found Stephen dog-paddling, snorting, panting, and still going strong, salivating for a taste of urban duckling.  

It was hard to be mad at him for running off, as he pulled himself up upon the rocks, and wiggled his wet-dog shake. What a guy, I thought. I guess he can swim with three legs after all. 


Even though Stephen lost his off-leash freedom for the rest of the journey home, I was darn proud of him for getting back on that figurative bicycle and bounding his way into the pond without reservation. I smiled to myself as I added this moment to the list of life lessons taught to me by my three-legged furry companion; sometimes, it seems, it's best not to over-think things; just dive on in.