I got a frantic 7 AM phone call from my sister on the weekendthat a dog had fallen through the ice right near our dock out at the lake. I had been out there drinking in one of the cabins with friends, so we jumped up and raced out to find a giant black Newfoundlander, head above water, close to our big cement pier with her even larger companion (same breed) hovering around on the dock.
After we manage to get the poor dog pulled up on to the ice, the male's natural instinct in a time of crysis was of naturally to mount her. Onto the thin ice he heads. I had to pull this big bastard off her, which was no easy feat considering his size, his position in relation to where I could safely reach him, and his general growling anger at me trying to interrupt his moment of triumph.
No tags of course.
