By Katherine Selby
The farm had been sold, and the last few suitcases were packed in the car. It was time to head to the new home on the lake. Ruby climbed into the back seat, unaware that she would not be returning to the green fields of the farm where she had spent all nine years of her life.
After a short drive, the car stopped in a line of other cars. Ruby hopped out and saw a big lake. She took in all the smells: the water, seaweed, and ducks. Ruby had never liked to swim; getting her paws wet was plenty for her. She’d never been near a boat, much less on one. The farm had streams to cross and meadows to run and hunt for mice in. The wind would sway the hay like waves, and the sound it made in the pine trees was like water rushing onto the beach. This was the closest she had ever been to water.
The summer house sat just on the other side of the lake, next to the ferry landing. Getting back in the car, Ruby felt the bump as they drove onto the ferry. Once the car was parked, she was able to jump out and, climbing a flight of stairs, found she was on a small deck with a bench. All she could see on either side was blue rippling water. When the ferry’s engines started, Ruby felt the rumble and smelled the exhaust, but was still unaware she was no longer on the land. Once the ferry began to move, she was startled and desperately pulled on her leash, retreating into the waiting area. Unable to see the motion, she began to settle. The steady hum of the ferry’s engines soon had her fast asleep.
Thirty minutes later, the ferry docked on the far side of the lake. Ruby went down the steps and back into the car. After a minute, the car stopped and she again hopped out to see a pretty yellow house with a curved front porch. Up onto the porch and into the wide front door, Ruby began to sniff all around. Nearing the back of the house she could see a yard leading out to the lake. The ferry was departing across a cove to the north, looking much smaller and safer from the yard. A little green sailboat bobbed on its mooring in the cove.
After dinner and a drink of water, Ruby headed to the backyard to explore. It wasn’t large, but it was green and had a big shade tree. Best of all, she could stand on the cement seawall and watch ducks swimming from the cove toward the broader lake. So much was different, but Ruby was so tired from the day that she went to bed early and didn’t stir until well after sunrise.
In the morning Ruby woke to the sun streaming through the row of windows that overlooked the lake. She bumped down the stairs and into the kitchen for a quick breakfast before going out to the yard. Business attended to she went back to the house to see what was up for the day. Hopping out the front door, she stood by the rear door of the car and waited. Instead of jumping in, she felt a leash being attached to her collar. She hardly ever wore a leash! Back at the farm she never needed one.
She walked through the village, and everywhere she went someone would stop to give her a pat, telling her she was a beautiful dog. ‘I know,’ she thought, but always graciously accepted both the petting and the remarks. A routine was soon established: breakfast, yard, walk, settle in for a nap, then a long walk, a second nap until dinner, followed by a short outing before bed. She always spent some time standing watch along the seawall, keeping an eye on all the cars, walkers, bicyclists, and dogs coming and going from the ferry. Other times she’d wait by the fence on the edge of the yard and make sure the people walking down the hill to the pub were behaving.
Most days, there was a ride on the ferry, but without the car. She’d walk onto the ferry and up to the bench. Feeling the rumble of the big boat, Ruby would lie down on the gray steel deck and lay her head on her paws. Ever watchful, she took in the big lake and the other passengers, alert for trouble.
Before long, Ruby anticipated trips on the ferry and liked not being stuck in the car. She loved lying on the deck warmed by the sun. But it was the crew that became her favorite thing about these trips. The early crew always greeted her with a friendly “Morning, Captain Ruby” and a little salute. The afternoon crew carried treats in their pockets, especially for her. When she hopped off the ferry at the end of the day, they’d shout, “See you tomorrow, Ruby the Ferry Dog!” On rainy or chilly days, she might travel in the car or up in the waiting room where it was warm and dry. The crew never forgot about Ruby, though, either coming inside to give a treat or stopping by the car to pat her through the open window.
Some days, she’d see a child or a small dog who was nervous about the boat, the water, the rumbling motors. She’d seek them out and just sit beside them. She remembered how she’d felt on her first few trips, though she’d never admit to being afraid. Besides, she had overcome her fears and learned there was nothing to fear at all. She wanted to help others discover the joy of trying something new and to learn to embrace new adventures. The kids would wrap their arms around her steadfast body; the dogs would look to her, knowing that she was telling them it was safe.
As Ruby got older, she took fewer trips on the ferry, preferring to watch it come and go from the yard. But when she was asleep by the big sunny windows she’d often dream of the hum of the boat’s engines, her friends on the crew, and her special name: Ruby the Ferry Dog.
Comments