My dad saved me from nearly being killed by a horse shoe crab once. We were on vacation in Florida before we moved there permanently, and I was maybe 9 or 10 years old. While playing on the beach one day, we came across one of these fellas:
In my childish mind, that tail looked an awful lot like a stinger. I immediately concluded that this was the elusive stingray I had been warned so much about. I knew at any moment it was going to chase me and eat me alive. So I ran like heck, screaming and crying and paying no attention to where I was going. I couldn't see anyway. I was blinded by the white terror of certain death.
I didn't even notice when I hit the water. I didn't feel myself sinking into the drop-off, that come to find out was a very dangerous area to be in the water. My next memory was being snapped back to reality when I was thrown out of the water by my dad. I wasn't a child prodigy, you see, and I mean it when I say I didn't know I was even in the water and didn't understand why my dad was so upset. He had jumped in after me, and my hair happened to brush his foot, which was the only reason he was able to find me. Thanks dad.