san francisco, day seven. {part two.}

{You can read part one here.}

Where last we left off, Miss Roxy {the darling pooch shown above} had been invited to join me, Amanda, her boyfriend Jonathan, and his friend Camille on the roof of Camille's apartment building for a night of San Francisco star-gazing and city-skyline-viewing. We were all very excited, despite Roxy being the only one who wagged her behind to show proof.

Camille put Roxy's leash on her, which only increased her level of tail-wagging, butt-wiggling, and happy-jumping, because as any dog will tell you, the leash means a trip of some sort is about to ensue (i.e. trip to park, trip to beach, trip to nearest potty location, etc.). Combine with the leash a couple of new faces (i.e. me and Amanda, as Jonathan was staying with Camille and Roxy already), and the tail-wagging, butt-wiggling, and happy-jumping increases exponentially.

Needless to say, Roxy was keyed up fo' realz, yo.

We exited Camille's apartment and made our way up the three flights of stairs towards the roof. Jonathan was in the lead, followed by me, the darling Roxy, Amanda, and finally Camille. Somewhere around the second flight of stairs, Amanda had the presence of mind to ask Should someone hold onto Roxy's leash for when we get to the roof? Camille assured us that wasn't necessary, as Roxy had been up to the roof numerous times, was always well-behaved (we'd seen the truth of this with our very own eyes, so there was no reason to doubt), and that she often spent time outside with him while her leash was attached, even though he wasn't holding onto it.

Perfect! we all thought.

Until Jonathan opened the door to the roof.

You see, there is nothing perfect about watching a beautiful young dog run straight through the doorway and leap off the roof of a three-story apartment building.

Which is exactly what I witnessed a mere nanosecond after Jonathan opened the door to the roof.

I will spare you all of the details--the complete silence that followed after she jumped, which only indicated that she was falling; the sound of the thud her body made when it hit the concrete below and the yelp that escaped that poor little darling's mouth--and, instead, will sum up the experience in list form, because it makes the whole experience seem less traumatic than it really was. Because, honestly, it's too traumatic to recount in narrative form here.

Thus, the list of subsequent events:

1. When I realized what Roxy had done, I shrieked. "She's jumped!" I yelled. "Oh, my God! She's jumped!" I looked over the edge of the building and saw Roxy below on the concrete, alive (THANK YOU JESUS) and struggling to move. A slight whimper escaped her mouth.

2. Everyone simultaneous responded: "What?! What do you mean? She JUMPED?"

3. Camille raced downstairs to go to Roxy, while instantly pulling out his cell phone and calling the emergency animal hospital.

4. I started to sob.

5. And pray to my beloved St. Francis.

6. And God.

7. Jonathan ran to be with his friend Camille, to aid in any way he could.

8. Amanda attempted to help me down the three flights of stairs as I sobbed and shook.

9. Camille intercepted us on the first flight of stairs and asked us to stay with Roxy in the foyer of the apartment building for a moment while he grabbed his keys and pulled his car around front.

10. We reached the foyer and saw Roxy on the ground, alert, but not moving.

11. I sobbed, went to her, laid down next to her on the ground, and stroked her fur gently.

12. Roxy, in turn, started to whimper. (I can assume as a result of her seeing me cry. Dogs are sensitive like that.)

13. Jonathan propped open the apartment building's front door as Camille raced in, scooped up his beloved pet, and carried her to his car, all the while speaking tenderly to her. Both boys hopped in the car and left for the hospital.

14. Amanda and I, sobbing and exhausted and scared as shit, grabbed a cab back to my hotel to await word from the boys on Roxy's condition.

15. I went immediately to my parents' hotel room when we got back, sobbing and trying to explain what happened. Amanda waited in my hotel room.

16. A half hour later, I went back to my hotel room. And Amanda greeted me with the news.

Roxy. Was. Fine.

Not a single broken bone.

No internal injuries.

Roxy. Was. Fine.

The initial X-rays and exams showed that our girl was a little bruised and had a few scrapes, but nothing serious.

More extensive tests throughout the rest of the night and into the early morning showed the same thing.

Roxy. Was. Fine.

We'll never know why Roxy jumped. Maybe she was just So! Excited! Or maybe she thought she saw a place to jump onto (there were some weird shadows, I noticed, which tricked even me into thinking there was a little pitch of roof nearby to sit/lean on).  But none of that matters.  All that matters is that Roxy is alive.

And that, my friends, was the miracle I experienced in San Francisco.  An honest-to-goodness miracle.

St. Francis, you are TOTALLY my homeboy.

{Thank you!!}