Jacob awakened on the ground, prone, cold. His neck cracked as he eased himself up and rolled onto his back, gingerly stretching out his body. His soft pack propped him at a forty-five-degree angle, and he could feel some of its contents pressing and biting into his back.
The freezing dampness of October’s night had seeped into his bones. His joints throbbed. Sol lay parallel to Jacob, pressed firmly against him, shivering. He stood, whimpering when Jacob moved.
“Yeah, buddy, I know,” Jacob said, reaching out for Sol, finding relief and comfort in his companion’s company.
Jacob brought his left wrist to his face and fumbled for the Indiglo button on his watch. The watch face read 19:27.
“Jesus,” he said, stroking Sol’s furry head. “We’ve been lying out here for a good four hours.” He ran his hands over his face. He wasn’t concerned about finding his way back to the trailhead. He knew this area well. But he was concerned about the possibility of becoming a victim of the elements if he didn’t get his body moving. He knew those statistics well, too.
“We need to get moving, pal.”
Jacob rolled back onto his stomach, testing his spinal column and ribcage. He slowly drew his knees up. No pain aside from the cold. He flexed and extended his back. No pain in his back or ribs. He pushed on his left knee with both hands to get himself upright on his feet. His body’s sympathetic response to exposure caused his body to shake; though, not violently and not yet uncontrollably. His jaw was stiff, but he could speak without a slur. It wasn’t quite that cold, but it was cold enough, and lying in a field, completely exposed, was a bad idea in the Northwoods in late October. He’d hiked out this way enough to know what his phone would say, but he pulled it out anyway, just in case. He pressed the button on the side of his phone and watched the screen light up. No call signal, no network signal. He couldn’t get a temperature reading or call anyone even if he needed to. He figured it was about fifty-or-so degrees. Cold enough, he thought. He shut the phone off to conserve the battery and slipped it back into his pocket.
“C’mere, pal,” Jacob whispered. He squatted down to take inventory of Sol. Sol licked his face.
“Me too, buddy,” Jacob said, smiling despite the circumstances. He nuzzled Sol’s muzzle with his nose and pressed a kiss to the side of his jowl. “Me too.”
Jacob ran his hands over Sol’s body, feeling through his coat in random spots, picking up his paws, working his joints. Sol appeared unharmed.
Jacob pushed himself back to standing, oriented himself, and swept his hand toward the woods in the direction of the trailhead. Sol moved out at a trot, but he headed almost directly west, not southeast.
“No! Hey…. Sol!” Jacob called out.
Sol stopped and glanced back at Jacob, then barked. He paced for a moment, then disappeared into the woods.
Shaking from exposure but growing warmer as he moved, and, he thought, from the anxiety of this whole situation, Jacob followed Sol. The bear bell attached to Sol’s collar resounded slight tinny clangs as he crashed through the woods; fallen branches, twigs, and leaves, brittle with the change of seasons, snapped and crunched beneath his paws. The sounds of Sol’s movements were quick and growing distant at a rate that told Jacob Sol was dashing, not trotting.
“God damn it,” Jacob muttered. “Sol! Komm!” Komm was his German command for Sol to come back to him and heel at his side.
Jacob remained at the edge of the woods. He stamped his feet and shifted from one foot to the other, warming himself. Sol’s crunching and crashing grew closer until he finally emerged from the darkness of the woods. He ran to within about five feet of Jacob, barking, but wouldn’t heel; instead, he paced along the wood line, whining.
“Christ!” Jacob said, jogging toward Sol, each step jarring his cold-stiffened joints. “Okay!”
He just wanted the cacophony to stop. With each of Jacob’s footfalls, Sol retreated that much farther.
“Sol!”
Jacob hissed his command for Sol to stay: “Bleib!”
To his surprise, given Sol’s behavior, the dog relented and stood where he was.
Jacob stooped and grabbed Sol’s muzzle with his left hand and his harness handle with his right, not knowing why quiet was so important in the middle of nowhere, but feeling that it was, nonetheless, entirely important they remain as quiet as possible.
“Nein,” Jacob whispered. Then, “Christ, Sol, what’s wrong with you?” But Jacob knew what it was. The girl. He felt it, too.
“God damn it,” Jacob muttered again.
He looked into Sol’s pleading brown eyes and sighed.
He released Sol and massaged his ears, leaning his forehead against Sol’s. Jacob had raised Sol and worked with him in search and rescue for six years: if Sol said he needed to follow him somewhere, then he would follow him.
“No warm bed for us tonight, then, pal.” Jacob said. “We’ll go, just not tonight. Bleib.” He pointed at the ground.
Sol relented and dropped to the ground.
Habitually, Jacob carried his soft pack with him, stocked with various items that included about seventy ounces of water, a couple of MRE’s, a few ounces of pre-bagged homemade trail mix, a homemade fire kit, and a skeleton kit of First Responder gear that included a Mylar blanket. Preparedness was never a bad thing. In Jacob’s estimation and experience in both the Army and outdoorsmanship, you never know what might happen or what you might come across, even on a day hike.
Sol remained where he had dropped down, keening his intermittent whimper. Jacob stared down at him.
“Got a plan?” he said.
They were already a good mile off-trail, and it was about four miles back to the truck.
Jacob sighed. “All right, then.” He slipped off his pack and dug out the Mylar blanket, some trail mix, and a baggie of Sol’s food. Then he pulled out Sol’s collapsible water bowl. He kinked the water tube of his hydration pack and unscrewed the bite valve, then let water flow freely into the bowl. Sol lapped at the water.
“It’s gonna be a long night,” he said, rubbing Sol’s head.
While Sol drank his water, Jacob looked about the moonlit clearing, trying to process the girl’s situation and what had happened before he fell into unconsciousness.
Sol finished most of his water. Jacob dumped the remaining water, shook out and folded the bowl, then stuffed it back into the pack.
“C’mon, buddy,” he said, and started into the woods.
Fingers of moonlight penetrated a few feet into the woods, illuminating small patches before dissipating into blackness. Jacob spied an area beneath a tree, slightly inclined, and he pointed to it. Sol, watching him, headed to the tree. Jacob cleared the forest floor where he stood, then slipped his pack off again and unfolded the Mylar blanket.
“C’mere.” Jacob gestured to Sol, patting the area on the blanket next to him. Sol moved to the area and laid down. Jacob slipped Sol’s collar off and put it in an inner pocket of his pack. He unclipped the harness and laid it next to the tree, then dug out his knit cap, gloves, and a new pair of socks.
“Lucky I decided to pack some gear for colder weather,” he said, as he pulled off a boot and changed his sock. “I don’t feel so smart letting you goad me into sleeping out here, though.” Sol whimpered in response, watching him with intelligent brown eyes.
The blanket would heat them with their own body temperatures and grow quite warm, but Jacob wanted his head outside the blanket so he could monitor the area around them; thus, the hat. After he changed his socks and put his boots back on, he positioned himself next to Sol. He dumped some food directly onto the blanket for Sol, then pulled his pack towards him for a pillow, propping it partially against the tree and snaking his water tube out next to his head. Sol inhaled his food.
“Good boy,” Jacob said, pulling Sol’s muzzle over to him and giving him a kiss before flipping the blanket over them.
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