The water came up to my hips, and then to my waist. The cold bite of it took my breath away.
I felt my body grow numb. I couldn’t feel my feet at all but I knew they were moving.
When the water reached my armpits I stopped and worked my pole toward Little Ann.
Stretching my arms as far out as I could, I saw I was still a foot short.
Closing my eyes and gritting my teeth, I moved on. The water reached my chin. I was close enough.
I started hooking at the collar of Little Ann. Time after time I felt the hook almost catch.
I saw I was fishing on a wrong angle. She had settled so low in the water I couldn’t reach her collar.
Raising my arms above my head so the pole would be on a slant I kept hooking and praying.
The seconds ticked by. I strained for one more inch. The muscles in my arms grew numb from the weight of the pole.
Little Ann’s claws slipped again. I thought she was gone. At the very edge of the ice, she caught again.
All I could see now were her small red paws and her nose and eyes.
By Old Dan’s actions I could tell he understood and wanted to help.
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