It was a sight to freeze the heart of any Minnesotan.
A fluffy dog, all alone on an icy lake. And the ice was melting.
On Monday night, as the sun was setting over South Lindstrom Lake, Chisago County Deputy Patrick Mariakis tested the ice.
The lake, 50 miles northeast of the metro, had seemed ice-free over the warm weekend. Then strong winds shoved offshore ice toward the beach, piling up ice shards until the surface of the lake could support the weight of one lost dog named Honey — but only Honey.
Mariakis made it about 10 feet from the shore before he crashed through the slush and into the bitter-cold water. Rescuing good dogs from bad ice isn't in the job description. But some jobs attract people who want to try anyway.
"We never show up at a scene and say, 'Ah, it's not worth it.' We'll do our best," Mariakis said. "I'm a dog lover. I knew I couldn't personally sit there and watch that and not try to help."
His body cam captured what happened next, and turned the Chisago County Sheriff's Office Facebook page into destination viewing. As of Wednesday morning, the video had been viewed 15,000 times.
Honey, a tan and white beauty, was new to the area. Adopted just days before, she had wiggled through a gap in the fence and set out exploring. Her owner searched frantically for her, and there had been Honey sightings in the area all day.
Then a neighbor stopped to admire the sunset over the lake and noticed a strange, huddled blob out on the ice.
So began the adventure of Honey on Ice. Mariakis, who works nights, was patrolling nearby when the call for help came in. He was on the scene in minutes.
He turned to the neighbors: "I said 'Hey, could we use that kayak?'" Together, the rescuers anchored the kayak with rope from the patrol car's trunk. It was a single-person craft, so Mariakis headed out onto the lake alone. "I thought, 'Hey, I'm already wet, if we fall in.'"
The body cam video opens on the deputy, using a paddle like a gondolier's pole to muscle his way through the ice toward the stranded dog.
"Hey buddy," he crooned to Honey as the kayak crunched closer. "C'mere."
Honey did not want to come. Honey wanted no part of the strange man in the strange boat at the end of a very strange day. She shied away at first, sinking deeper as the ice dissolved under her.
Her back legs were submerged in the freezing water and could barely move, so Mariakis was able to catch hold of her collar and pull her safely aboard. The helpers on shore then towed the cold, wet pair off the ice. Honey seemed to enjoy the ride.
The neighbors were waiting with towels and a heated garage.
"That's when Honey decided to love life," Mariakis said with a laugh. "[She] was running around with a bunch of treats. There was another dog there too and they were playing around until we were able to call the owner to come reunite with her dog."
The deputy gave the neighbors credit for spotting the dark shadow of a dog on a darkening lake and calling for help. But anyone who watches the video might give Mariakis a little credit too.
As for Honey, she's enjoying herself at home, behind a newly repaired fence.
"She's warm, safe, dry at the owner's house," he said. "Fully recovered."