The cooler floated well, even with Buttons inside. The poodle reacted violently to being imprisoned in a dark, airless box and scratched incessantly at the plastic sides. Holding onto the cooler with her right hand, and with the oar and log tucked under her left arm, Emily was able to keep her head above water. Fear surged through her body, giving her renewed strength. Furious kicking propelled her steadily away from shore and toward what she hoped was safety.
After several minutes, winded from her exertions and needing to catch her breath, she turned her head toward the boat launch to see how close the flames were. An ember immediately flew into her left eye. She shrieked and ducked her face into the lake to put it out. It was a painful lesson. She wasn’t out of range of the fire just yet.
Emily started kicking again and quickly realized she was in serious trouble. The heavy hiking boots hanging from her neck had filled with water and the laces had twisted together. They were pulling her head under the surface and slowly strangling her at the same time. Reluctantly she let go of the cooler and used her free hand to untie the laces. The boots sank to the bottom.
The cooler floated high in the water, and it was caught by the wind once Emily released it. Although the oar and log provided some buoyancy, they probably weren’t enough to get her safely to the far shore. She kicked furiously, knowing she had to reach the cooler while she still had the time and strength. Several times she was almost able to touch it when another gust of wind propelled it out of reach.
When she was finally able to grab one of the cooler’s handles Emily was gasping for air. Her own shortness of breath reminded her that the poodle had a very limited supply of air inside the cooler. Buttons had suddenly gone quiet. Emily realized he would soon suffocate, if he hadn’t already.
By tucking the oar under one armpit and the log under the other, Emily struggled to get stable enough in the water to unlock the lid. She finally succeeded, opened the cover a crack and was rewarded with a feeble bark. Buttons was still alive. He moaned pathetically. With the poodle’s air supply replenished she closed the lid and resumed kicking. It wasn’t long before sheer exhaustion forced her to stop. Luckily the strong winds helped push the cooler, with her hanging on for dear life. The visibility was getting steadily worse. As the smoke got thicker it became increasingly challenging for Emily to tell if she was even going in the right direction.
Fatigue made it hard for Emily to hold onto the handle. She stopped her awkward dog-paddle for a moment, opened her mouth to take in a lungful of air, and accidentally swallowed water. Coughing, she almost lost her grip on the cooler. Then she saw something that immediately raised her spirits. Salvation was finally in reach.
Emily realized she’d almost made it across the lake. The welcoming shoreline was untouched by fire. Through the haze she could see it was reassuringly green. She saw two cabins standing only a short distance apart. One was small and tucked into the trees. The other was much larger and had a detached boathouse. Emily decided to aim for the boathouse, which was almost dead ahead.
The small log she’d been using as a flotation device was partly rotten. The strain of holding up her body was too much for it. The top third of the log broke off and the remaining section wasn’t big enough to help keep her head above water. She let go of the remaining chunk of wood.
It suddenly dawned on Emily that it had been some time since she’d last heard any noise from inside the cooler. Once again she was consumed with guilt at the thought of accidentally letting the dog suffocate. Worn out, she struggled with the lid’s locking device, taking longer than usual to open it.
Up until then the poodle had cowered at the bottom of the cooler every time the lid opened a crack. That time, the moment he saw some daylight, Buttons moved to break free from his dark and airless prison.
His leap overturned the cooler and knocked the lid out of Emily’s hands. While the dog thrashed wildly in the water Emily reached for the cooler. Too late. The wind had caught it. Frantic, she managed to grab the lid. If she held the oar in one hand and the lid in the other it might be enough to keep her afloat for another few minutes.
Buttons swam around her in a circle, making a pitiful gasping noise. The lid was wide and flat and didn’t easily fit under an arm. As she struggled with it Emily realized it wasn’t much smaller than some of the boogie boards she’d seen little kids use at the beach. It might even be made out of a similar material. She didn’t have the strength to pull herself onto the lid with just one hand so she let go of the oar. The lid wasn’t big and buoyant enough to keep her whole body afloat, but it was enough to keep head and shoulders out of the water.
Emily felt sharp claws digging into her back and tearing open her shirt and skin. Buttons had managed to climb onto her shoulders. Although he was a small dog it was enough extra weight to force her face into the water. Emily twisted her body and felt the dog let go.
Buttons reluctantly swam away from Emily. At first he set an erratic course. Then, perhaps smelling the nearby forest, he headed straight toward land.
An enormous head suddenly appeared out of the smoky fog, just to Emily’s right. She stared in disbelief, too shocked to move. An ugly face, with huge nostrils and wide eyes, was almost close enough to touch. It was also moving toward shore. The creature saw Emily and grunted menacingly. They were on converging paths and if Emily hadn’t stopped kicking they would have collided. Already in a state of panic her brain simply froze. She had no idea what was happening or what she was looking at.
The massive head cut cleanly through the water. A smaller animal followed in its wake. Emily finally understood that she’d nearly run into a cow moose and her calf. The moose were powerful swimmers and quickly reached the shore. They climbed onto dry land, just a few metres from where Buttons had landed. The dog, perhaps awed by the size of the moose, didn’t move or make a peep. The cow and calf didn’t stop. They raced toward the forest and disappeared from view.
With the last of her strength Emily managed to once again pull herself onto the cooler lid. It wasn’t big enough to keep her afloat unless she kept kicking, and her strength was nearly gone. Then came the instantly recognizable sound of a dog shaking the water out of its fur.
Emily raised her head and saw the poodle waiting for her on a pebble beach. If a puny mutt could make it, so could she. She closed her eyes, held tightly to the lid, and kicked until her feet touched bottom. Emily stood up. She was in front of the boathouse, in chest-deep water. Overcome with relief and exhaustion she crawled up a wooden ramp and vomited.