Arrested and behind bars—Another Juno chronicle

I never would have believed it. If someone told me that Summerland’s favourite Labradoodle would be arrested and held in custody at the RCMP station in our little town, I would have laughed out loud, or even cried. But it happened.

There I was, at the dog beach one summer afternoon, doing what Labradoodles do best, swimming, running, and frolicking with—in Captain Renault’s phrase in the final scene of Casablanca, “the usual suspects”—when I spotted a duck, a garden-variety Okanagan duck.

Abandoning my canine playmates I decided to investigate further, actually to give chase, to engage in a reverse Juno-Beach military-style assault. Launching myself with considerable gusto into the warm lake water, a pursuit commenced, a physical marathon not unlike the infamous car chase in the 1968 American neo-noir action thriller film Bullitt. Keeping my eye on the ball—well, the duck, actually—I swam well out from the shore, beyond the safe-swimming markers, always a couple of metres behind the aforementioned duck.

Mapaw and papaw anxiously followed along the beach. They cried out to me, with increasing volume and intensity (in violation of local noise bylaws), “Juno, come.” “Come, dammit.” They should know better. When I am at work, I ignore all distractions. You see, distractions threaten productivity. That’s a problem with many workers these days. They simply do not concentrate on the task at hand. Social media has turned many a fine mind and proud heart into consumer-oriented, gutless jelly.

Not this Labradoodle, however. I will persist. “Focus” is my middle name. I will catch up to, if not capture, my prey. Mapaw tells everyone that I am prey driven. So if that is what she believes, and she is correct, why does she get so distressed when I travel far afield, especially on the water, or in the forest, or in the field next door? In the water, I am a strong swimmer, but how strong–and how long can I swim? As the bird shifts hard to port, that is towards the centre of Lake Okanagan, will my strength wither? I can hear the Titanic theme now. “My love for you will never die,” but in the meantime I may sink?

Back on shore, Mapaw and Papaw faced a conundrum. Should they, could they, swim out to save me? Neither was keen to attempt a rescue. Then, out of nowhere, and likely in response to their croaky yelling, a saviour appeared. A gentleman in his late forties shed his shirt and his shoes and swam the distance towards me. Once close, he effectively redirected me towards shore till that magical moment when, still panting, my paws touched the bottom, and I bounced out of the water as if nothing had happened.

This was great news for everyone, but then, something unexpected occurred. My rescuer was an off-duty police officer. In a calm, quiet voice, he explained to Mapaw and Papaw that this aggressive behaviour was simply unacceptable in our little town.  He suggested that I attend at the RCMP nick for some “instruction.” Next thing I knew, I was behind bars, with guess who as a cell mate. Next thing I will be assigned a number—JUN_02023_08_26. With other felons of Wall Street, or Bay Street, or from the backroads of Princeton, my mug shot may soon appear at Canada Post stations across the land.

Mapaw is also concerned that instruction be given, but in her thinking, a kindly electronic device with a two-kilometer range should suffice. Either way, no more mad dashes towards the centre of what can be a volatile lake.

I feel humiliated and condemned–all for simply doing what I love, what I do best, and what I believe to be good, and just, and true. Err, that sounds like “the Donald” himself. So, does the punishment fit the crime? Was the response proportional to the wandering deed?

Now wakened from my nightmarish dream, itself rooted in both fact and truth, though exaggerated for imaginative license, I am once again free–to frolic, to swim, to play, and yes, to pursue the next duck, or rabbit, or gopher, or anything else my heart desires.

Pray for Mapaw and Papaw. Pray for everything and everyone (Philippians 4:6). Let us pray, for all who prey, today and every day. Amen.