What it feels like to: be rescued by a stranger

Senior Features Writer

Tuesday 8 January 2013

Maggie Kinloch, vice-president of the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland.

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Marisa Duffy

My dog Peg, a wee Border collie, is my best pal. Four years ago we were out walking at Pollok Estate in Glasgow. It had been chucking it down and the White Cart river was in spate – way up and fast-flowing – but Peg ran in.

Common sense says you don't go in after your dog. I managed to get her lead on to my wrist and tied the other end to a tree. I tried to get to her, but the current was so bad and it was so cold that she started to go under. In that moment, I let go of the lead and went in. I just thought: "I have to try to get her." I got dragged along for about 12 feet and I was totally calm. I had an intellectual process that went: "Oh, I'm going to drown – that's really interesting." It was a strange thing. I didn't panic. Then suddenly I got my head up above the water and I grabbed a tree root. I thought: "I'm OK, but oh my God, where is the dog?" Suddenly I felt her against my leg. She was semi-conscious and I grabbed her, but I was in trouble. Then there was this wee man. All I know is his name was Gary. He was a wee bloke in a white shellsuit and a Burberry baseball cap, and he was sliding down the mud to the river's edge. He was a wee wiry guy and I'm quite a big woman. He said, "Right hen, come on," and I said, "Take my dog." He took the dog and I saw him throw her up the bank. He then tried for about 15 minutes to get me out of the water and he couldn't because he couldn't get his footing. Eventually he braced his body against a tree branch and said: "You're coming out this time, even if I have to dislocate your f****** shoulders." I remember preparing myself for the pain of dislocated shoulders. The next thing I remember was my back against the tree trunk, half out of the water, and his body was pinned against me. He was holding on to branches on either side of me. Suddenly, this old man appeared on crutches. He was obviously coming down the bank to help. Gary shouted to him: "Don't come doon, ya clown. Haud oot yer crutch, pal." This older bloke – I later found out his name was Dougie – held out his crutch and I must have got hold of it. I remember feeling Gary shove my backside, and this old bloke pulled, and suddenly I was up on the bank covered in mud and blood. I gave Gary a big hug and he was filthy, his white shellsuit manky. I said, "Thank you," and he said, "No problem, it's what we're here for, doll." His girlfriend was there and he turned to her and said, "Right, come on up the road, our tea is getting cold." And he was gone. I never saw him again. Peg and I got back to the flat and got into a warm bath together because we were both freezing. I saved the dog's life and Gary saved my life. I had flashbacks for ages.

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What it feels like to: be rescued by a stranger

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