Run Sheet
01/08/29
In the last 20 years of Firefighting I've been scared pretty bad a few times. The other day we had a call that scared me worse than anything I've ever experienced.
It seems that it's never the big, nasty events that really get you scared because you go into them knowing you're in danger so you prepare for it. The REALLY scary experiences come when you think everything is okay, and it turns out otherwise.
Also, In the last 20 year on the job I've managed to find myself in some pretty ridiculous situations, and looking pretty stupid.
We got a call the other day for an "Animal Rescue"
Somtimes people call us to get their cats out of trees (We don't do that, too dangerous) but this time it was a dog under a house. When the animal control officers don't know how else to do it they call us.
When we arrived there she was. A Husky cross with her head sticking out of a small opening. She had crawled into the space under the house and had tried to dig her way out from the inside. Her headand one paw had gotten out and she was stuck. She couldn't go forward, couldn't go backward, and she was scared, dirty and tired. She wasn't in danger, she was just stuck.
I love dogs, and usually they love me. Also, even though I'm one of the biggest guys in the crew I'm a mole. My dad used to raise and move houses and I spent a lot of my childhood in crawlspaces under houses so I haven't got a shred of claustrophobia. When someone has to go into a crawlspace it's generally me. This time was no different. I knew all I needed to do was crawl 15 or so feet under that house and get the dog turned around, maybe dig out a little dirt and make a little more room. It was an old house o the crawlspace would be pretty tight. It didn't look like a big deal. I should be in and out in ten minutes max.
I asked the owner, a very distraught woman about the dog. I was assured that she was the nicest, gentlest, sweetest dog ever in creation. The mother Theresa of the canine set. Okay, no problem. I got a gardening trowel, stripped off my turnout jacket but kept my turnout pants on. I was ready to go in.
I didn't get this far in the Fire Service by being stupid though, and before I went in I told Big Brad and Kurt (a large, strapping fellow) to tie one of our ropes to both of my ankles in case I got stuck. As I hunkered down to the crawlspace entrance I turned to them and said "Oh yeah, and if you hear a dog barking and me screaming pull hard" We all laughed and I went in.
It all went pretty much as I planned, a 15 foot crawl, the back end of a big dog in a little space. Everything illuminated by a flashlight. I dug out some dirt, made some room, and got my hand on the dogs haunches. I had been petting the dog and talking quietly to it. For it's part the dog had been pretty quiet. Once I figured i had enough clearance I gently pulled her around backwards until I felt her head slip out of the hole and back into the crawlspace.
That's when all hell broke loose.
Bear in mind I'm in a crawlspace that's barely 20-24inches high. I'm flat on my belly and unable to do anything but crawl straight back. There is a foundation wall to my right and a pile of dirt to my left. I have nowhere to go. Imagine being flat on your belly completely under your bed. There was about a smuch room.
Now imagine it with a large dog turned suddenly viscious.
The first I knew of it was a second after the dog found itself back in the crawlspace, it looked around in surprise and saw me there six inches away. I was amazed to see just how fast it could turn around in such a tiny space. In the flashlight's beam I saw the look in it's eyes and it's very white, very large teeth coming at me. I don't remember hearing any sound though it must have made one. All I remember hearing was my own voice shouting FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUCKKK!!!!!!!
Thankfully, but not surprisingly Big Bob and Kurt had paid attention throughout the situation, they heard my scream and took off at a sprint with the rope wrapped tightly in their fists. There was very little slack, the results were almost instantaneous.
Now, imagine if you will two big, strapping Firefighters doing the hundred yard dash holding a rope, a 220 pound man, screaming in terror doing a very creditable imitation of a torpedo in reverse with a large, snarling, snapping husky three quarters of an inch from his nose. All of this in a cloud of dirt, cobwebs, and dog hair
That would pretty much sum how it looked, but I described it with a fair bit more dignity that it actually had.
Once she was out from under the house the dog lost interest in me within ten feet. Unfortunately that ten feet was a crushed-rock driveway. Big Bob and Kurt were still hammering along with gusto. I think I came to rest just short of twenty yards away.
My nose was full of dirt, my hands couldn't stop shaking and I couldn't speak. All I could do was sit up and say "HOLY JUMPING FUCK!" over and over.
Give me the big nasty calls anytime, it's these little ones that'll do you REAL damage.