"No, Cody. Cody, no! No!"
Dogs don't listen. He chases a cat onto the thin ice; the cat makes it across, Cody does not ... crash, into the Whitefish River.
Panicked, he thrashes at the ice with his paws, but can't pull himself out. The more he flails, the larger the hole he's in gets. His eyes are wide and scared.
Man, I don't want to do this. I take my coat off and empty my pockets, cell phone, wallet, iPod. I decide it's probably better to keep my boots on.
I'll walk out until I break through; it'll only be up to my waist. I'll punch through the thin ice, wade over to him, and pull him out.
I take a deep breath. This is going to suck. I take two steps out onto the ice, creak, crack.
"Come on, Cody. Cody, come!"
I take another step, I see the ice begin to fracture under my feet. Man, this is going to suck.
"Come, Cody, come!"
He thrashes again and this time digs his claws into the ice. He pulls himself out of the icy hole and runs over to me.
I put his leash on. I put everything back in my pockets. We jog the mile home so his fur doesn't freeze.