Jake

Jake’s voice threatened to betray him as he knelt by his wife in the hard dirt. “9-1-1 – What is your emergency?” the operator came on, and he had to struggle to keep himself calm enough to talk. “My wife’s been hurt,” he began, “I think she’s dying…” he said, and somehow stumbled through the address and directions to the property.

The sun was setting, and Zebediah, the big puppy, was rooting through the contents of the plastic bag Jake had dropped on the ground.

Somehow he found an intact lead rope in the bucket by the gate, and tied the nervous Nightmare to a pole across the paddock; His hands were trembling so hard, that he could barely swing the gate open for the ambulance attendants.

Then he knelt down in the dirt, again, next to his wife and stroked her face. “Stay with me, hon, stay with me,” he called to her, but her eyes were distant and glazed, and she didn’t hear him. He heard the siren of the approaching ambulance and ran to his truck to move it out of the way.

The attendants put a bag on Jeannie’s face and were rhythmically pumping, trying to get her to breathe.

Jake saw the glances they exchanged – he saw that they thought it was hopeless.