All the Whos down in Whoville
Dec. 29th, 2020 02:52 pmToday I had to walk up to the store to pick up a few things--I live about four blocks down off the main north-south drag through the part of the city I live in, which is a long peninsula along Puget Sound's Elliott Bay called West Seattle, because we're cut off from the main part of Seattle proper by the sound and by a long waterway called the Duwamish. Back in March, right after everything was closed down for the pandemic, they announced the sudden closure of the West Seattle Bridge, a high-rise span that was put up in the '80s after the one direct to Seattle bridge in and out of here was ruined when a drunk ship captain rammed a boat into it when the bridge was open. (If you ever want to read an INSANE story, this story about Rolf Neslund and his subsequent murder by his wife is a fucking wild ride, I tell you what.)
Then, after they built the new big bridge, they replaced that lower bridge with a new type of span, so for a while we've had the high bridge and the low one, until they (stupidly, belatedly) realized that cracks they were monitoring on the high bridge were expanding far too rapidly and it was unsafe. It will be closed for a few more years, and people are only allowed to drive cars on the low bridge (because it's only two lanes and a bike lane wide) after 9 pm (to keep it clear for emergencies, because we have no hospitals here), except freight, emergency, or buses.
I say all that because it's made people who are assholes even more assholey than ever--tempers are constantly frayed in my otherwise pleasant little corner of Seattle, getting out of here is an ordeal and getting into here is sometimes even worse, because we have to drive south quite a bit and then take one of two bridges over the Duwamish to get anywhere north, and those bridges are always up. Like, I have had to go north more than a few times, and it never fails that as soon as I get on the highway going across the bridge, it goes up, which is at least twenty minutes, and it's often so some rich assface can sail their goddamn sailboat to the marina, and fuck them. It's really not fun when you're baking in the sun in summer. Then you get to sit in crawling traffic on the large street that takes you to the entrance to the major freeway, and everyone is driving like the worst jerks because we're all so tired and cranky and worried about making it to appointments. It's only going to get worse once things ease up in the pandemic, and people return to the beaches here even more than they did this summer when they were flouting the laws.
Anyway, as you can tell if you've read this far, people aren't always as...friendly as they used to be and they have a reason. So I was really touched today when on my way to the store, I was at the corner of the main drag and the next street south of me (it's like four blocks up, and then three down to the store and Starbucks and Pet Elements, the three places I go the most), and I saw this young woman crouched down in front of a truck, trying to lure something out. I stopped and yelled across the street to ask if she was trying to get a kitty cat out, and she said it looked like a puppy or little dog, and it had darted across the street in front of her. I put my mask on and went over. We neither of us could get under the truck, and were scared of frightening it, because it was shaking with terror, and the intersection there is really busy now that using that arterial to get to the main drag and points south so we can get out of West Seattle is more important than ever. I have walked this route for decades and it never, ever was this busy, and the light there is incredibly long because it's a residential area, to an arterial, to a main street.
We were crawling around and trying to lure it out, but he wasn't budging, and just shaking so bad. Eventually this older man stopped with his poodle and asked what we were doing, and we were so excited because the dog came out for his dog, and was really excited but still scared, and neither one of us could grab him when he did. The man went into the townhouses and came back with an extra leash--we could tell this dog was loved, he had a plaid harness on and tags and we hoped we could clip the harness with the leash, but he wouldn't come back out and I just missed grabbing him when he came back out for the poodle.
Another woman had come over, who worked at one of the nearby businesses and had seen the dog dart under the truck when the first woman tried to catch it, and she had some treats, but he still wouldn't come out or express interest in the treats. I'd been trying to crawl a little underneath, but so many cars were turning there and had no room to move at all with the cars heading in the other direction waiting for that loooong light, and I almost got hit a couple times by people who couldn't see me kneeling down. So I just decided to stand there near where the dog was at the wheel well, so that the cars would have to slow down and scoot around me. With the traffic being so bad there now, huge trucks and loud cars and motorcycles use it all the time (it's not designed for that, either) and it was probably amping his terror up; I felt useless but at least I am tall and visible.
The woman with treats didn't have any luck either, but she thought she could get low enough to get a picture of his tag, because she'd noticed it was facing outward. So this was about a half hour at this point, and I'd checked the local newsblog for lost dogs but didn't find him, and sent an email to the editor hoping someone might be looking. It was clear he was loved. Finally, she got a pic of the tag, and she said his name was Rahim and she waited and then eventually got the phone number off the tag and called--fortunately, she got through! We were overjoyed that someone had answered.
Another guy had come by while she was trying to get a snap with the phone number, and he almost got Rahim out with cheese from his sandwich from the sub shop across the street. I think people were trying to figure out why this collection of people were standing or kneeling around this giant truck for so long. Everyone kept asking if it was my truck, which I thought was hilarious, but I just told them, no, I'm trying to force cars away from the truck so he'll be a little less scared.
Rahim's person was only a couple minutes away, and he showed up and got him right out, and the poodle was as overjoyed as we all were, jumping around and whining. I said, "Man, it really does take a village!" and everyone agreed, and the guy was talking about how he was staying with his fiance's family nearby, and they didn't know that there were gaps in the fence, and that he'd escaped when they let him out and were doing something else. We were all like, "Yay!" and applauding, and he seemed so grateful; poor little Rahim was still shaking like a leaf. I thanked the young woman for coming to Rahim's aid in the first place--if she hadn't, we'd never have even seen him, and I hate to think what would have happened. Rahim's person had been out combing the block, but he was such a little guy that you could not have seen him under a car at all. He was still shaking when I left to head to the store.
It's been a kind of crappy week, which isn't helped by our miserable weather, and it was just so uplifting to see all these people--one young Black woman, one older white man, one older white woman, one younger white guy, and one young Latina woman--come together to try to help this scared little doggo in this area that has kind of become a challenge to live in. (It didn't hurt at all that Rahim's owner was easy on the eyes and looked ike Larenz Tate. Shut up, I'm shallow.) I felt like we were all starring in our own Hope for Paws video or something. My heart grew two sizes.
Then, after they built the new big bridge, they replaced that lower bridge with a new type of span, so for a while we've had the high bridge and the low one, until they (stupidly, belatedly) realized that cracks they were monitoring on the high bridge were expanding far too rapidly and it was unsafe. It will be closed for a few more years, and people are only allowed to drive cars on the low bridge (because it's only two lanes and a bike lane wide) after 9 pm (to keep it clear for emergencies, because we have no hospitals here), except freight, emergency, or buses.
I say all that because it's made people who are assholes even more assholey than ever--tempers are constantly frayed in my otherwise pleasant little corner of Seattle, getting out of here is an ordeal and getting into here is sometimes even worse, because we have to drive south quite a bit and then take one of two bridges over the Duwamish to get anywhere north, and those bridges are always up. Like, I have had to go north more than a few times, and it never fails that as soon as I get on the highway going across the bridge, it goes up, which is at least twenty minutes, and it's often so some rich assface can sail their goddamn sailboat to the marina, and fuck them. It's really not fun when you're baking in the sun in summer. Then you get to sit in crawling traffic on the large street that takes you to the entrance to the major freeway, and everyone is driving like the worst jerks because we're all so tired and cranky and worried about making it to appointments. It's only going to get worse once things ease up in the pandemic, and people return to the beaches here even more than they did this summer when they were flouting the laws.
Anyway, as you can tell if you've read this far, people aren't always as...friendly as they used to be and they have a reason. So I was really touched today when on my way to the store, I was at the corner of the main drag and the next street south of me (it's like four blocks up, and then three down to the store and Starbucks and Pet Elements, the three places I go the most), and I saw this young woman crouched down in front of a truck, trying to lure something out. I stopped and yelled across the street to ask if she was trying to get a kitty cat out, and she said it looked like a puppy or little dog, and it had darted across the street in front of her. I put my mask on and went over. We neither of us could get under the truck, and were scared of frightening it, because it was shaking with terror, and the intersection there is really busy now that using that arterial to get to the main drag and points south so we can get out of West Seattle is more important than ever. I have walked this route for decades and it never, ever was this busy, and the light there is incredibly long because it's a residential area, to an arterial, to a main street.
We were crawling around and trying to lure it out, but he wasn't budging, and just shaking so bad. Eventually this older man stopped with his poodle and asked what we were doing, and we were so excited because the dog came out for his dog, and was really excited but still scared, and neither one of us could grab him when he did. The man went into the townhouses and came back with an extra leash--we could tell this dog was loved, he had a plaid harness on and tags and we hoped we could clip the harness with the leash, but he wouldn't come back out and I just missed grabbing him when he came back out for the poodle.
Another woman had come over, who worked at one of the nearby businesses and had seen the dog dart under the truck when the first woman tried to catch it, and she had some treats, but he still wouldn't come out or express interest in the treats. I'd been trying to crawl a little underneath, but so many cars were turning there and had no room to move at all with the cars heading in the other direction waiting for that loooong light, and I almost got hit a couple times by people who couldn't see me kneeling down. So I just decided to stand there near where the dog was at the wheel well, so that the cars would have to slow down and scoot around me. With the traffic being so bad there now, huge trucks and loud cars and motorcycles use it all the time (it's not designed for that, either) and it was probably amping his terror up; I felt useless but at least I am tall and visible.
The woman with treats didn't have any luck either, but she thought she could get low enough to get a picture of his tag, because she'd noticed it was facing outward. So this was about a half hour at this point, and I'd checked the local newsblog for lost dogs but didn't find him, and sent an email to the editor hoping someone might be looking. It was clear he was loved. Finally, she got a pic of the tag, and she said his name was Rahim and she waited and then eventually got the phone number off the tag and called--fortunately, she got through! We were overjoyed that someone had answered.
Another guy had come by while she was trying to get a snap with the phone number, and he almost got Rahim out with cheese from his sandwich from the sub shop across the street. I think people were trying to figure out why this collection of people were standing or kneeling around this giant truck for so long. Everyone kept asking if it was my truck, which I thought was hilarious, but I just told them, no, I'm trying to force cars away from the truck so he'll be a little less scared.
Rahim's person was only a couple minutes away, and he showed up and got him right out, and the poodle was as overjoyed as we all were, jumping around and whining. I said, "Man, it really does take a village!" and everyone agreed, and the guy was talking about how he was staying with his fiance's family nearby, and they didn't know that there were gaps in the fence, and that he'd escaped when they let him out and were doing something else. We were all like, "Yay!" and applauding, and he seemed so grateful; poor little Rahim was still shaking like a leaf. I thanked the young woman for coming to Rahim's aid in the first place--if she hadn't, we'd never have even seen him, and I hate to think what would have happened. Rahim's person had been out combing the block, but he was such a little guy that you could not have seen him under a car at all. He was still shaking when I left to head to the store.
It's been a kind of crappy week, which isn't helped by our miserable weather, and it was just so uplifting to see all these people--one young Black woman, one older white man, one older white woman, one younger white guy, and one young Latina woman--come together to try to help this scared little doggo in this area that has kind of become a challenge to live in. (It didn't hurt at all that Rahim's owner was easy on the eyes and looked ike Larenz Tate. Shut up, I'm shallow.) I felt like we were all starring in our own Hope for Paws video or something. My heart grew two sizes.