We were invited to North Side School's Grand Finale of their "Martha Speaks" Reading Buddies program.  Kindergarteners and First Graders finished an 8 week reading curriculum about Martha, a dog who speaks english.  Sponsored by SIU-Carbondale, the celebration on May 10th involved speakers interested in pets, including us.  My dog Katie was a hit with the kids, as she demonstrated how a gentle dog acts. At the end of the program the kids put on a skit from "Martha Speaks", and were treated to an appearance by PBS/KIDS costumed character "Martha the Dog".  Katie thought that was one strange dog!

A Tribute to Roswell

It was 4 years ago when your owners carried your mangled body into my hospital.  One hundred pounds of German Shepherd was still no match for a Trans Am.  The years have dulled my memory of the difficulty of your care, but sharpened my vision of your immense will to live.

I remember washing your wounds out in the tub and seeing bone fragments rinse out.  Your mouth was busted up and you had lost some teeth.  You only had one working leg, and I could only find one good vein for your IV, which you didn’t want to leave in.  You were too big for a cage, so I arranged a palette for you.  After a couple of days of rest and wound dressing, you seemed well enough to undergo hip surgery.  Of course that night was the first night you decided to move off of your palette, bending the pin in your hip and opening my surgery site.

You hurt everywhere, I know.  But you let me cleanse your wounds.  For weeks.  Infection set in, and you didn’t like to take your antibiotics.  Your body fought the infection while you fought taking your pills.  But the fight was taking a tremendous toll on you.  Your body weight dropped as you didn’t feel like eating.  You occasionally would take half of my egg sandwich.  At the worst point you were down to 75 pounds.  You looked like a rack of bones, many of which still needed to be repaired.  But you still would wag your tail when I scratched your ears. (about the only place that didn’t hurt.)  For weeks all you lived on was protein shakes.   Gradually I could mix in instant mashed potatoes, then dry dog food.

You underwent another hip surgery, more of a salvage procedure, but we had to try to get some functionality to your rear legs.  This time I slept on a cot next to you during recovery.  You weren’t going to tear up my surgery again!  Once this surgery healed, the rehab started.  That’s what you really hated.  Moving those stiff joints was so painful.  I tried pain medication, but it just made you sick.  When you saw me rigging up the sling and pulleys, you would try to nip my arm.  Little did you (or I) know at the time that the struggling and fighting was physical therapy, too.  I still have videos of you in your sling trying to get out.

That was a long winter for you.  You had fought through the infection, and your weight was coming back up.  But you were so weak, and your injured joints would always be deteriorated.  Once the weather started warming up, I took you outside and bedded you down in the grass.  You learned to scoot yourself around because you wanted to lie far away from your toileting area.  I had to use a tie-out cord to keep you contained.  But you sure loved the outdoors.  That’s when I finally saw contentment in your eyes.

After 4 months of care, I was having dreams of you at night.  I dreamed you hobbled up to the kennel door wanting to go outside.  It was so real I would awake with my heart racing.

You knew our daily routine.  When I came in, the first hour would be spent cleaning you and trying to get you to eat.  Then came changing bandages and administering your medicine.  If the day was nice, I’d open the doors to clear the pathway outside, and then carry you out to the grassy spot for a few hours.  You looked forward to that.  But if I didn’t open doors, you knew the dreaded sling was coming out for physical therapy.  You hadn’t been up on your own since the accident, bedridden for months.

I was starting to lose hope that you would ever walk again.  I was afraid we’d done all we could do, and your body just wasn’t going to progress any farther.  Had you suffered and fought through all of this only to be left with a future of being carried in and out?  How long could you stay bedridden before another complication arose?

Then one sunny Saturday in June I opened the doors to take you outside.  You started wriggling in anticipation, but I was delayed as a patient came in.   After taking care of them, I looked through your door to see you up on your feet!  You were so wobbly!  I was afraid if I moved too fast to help you that you would react and lose your balance.  You were holding almost all of your body weight on your front legs, barely touching your hind legs on the ground for balance.  As I slowly approached you, your muscles weakened and you wilted to the ground.  I buried my face in the thick fur of your neck and cried like a baby.   I know you didn’t want to wait any longer to go outside, but for a little while, I could only just hug you and cry tears of joy and relief.

In just a few more weeks you were able to move 2 or 3 steps, more like a bunny hop since your hind legs couldn’t support much weight.   But it was now summer vacation and your family had kids home from school.  They could finish your rehab at home.  You were so excited to see them.  In your truck!  That truck could take you home!  You looked so regal with your head held high in the bed of that truck.

Your owners scared me when they called only 30 minutes later.  I feared you got too excited and jumped out of the truck.  Or hurt yourself somehow getting relocated.  But they just wanted to tell me that as soon as they set you on the ground, you drank a bowl full of water and moved ten steps away to urinate.  Ten full steps on your first day home.  The Yard Guard was back on duty!!

I’ll always remember your resilience and your determination to live.  You never gave up, even when my optimism was beginning to falter.  I will always have your memory of why I do what I do.

A Hot Dog!!

This is still funny.  The right combination of a hot bath and cool room.

Niles Animal Hospital and Bird Medical Center: Why a Dog is Man's Best Friend

Niles Animal Hospital and Bird Medical Center: Why a Dog is Man's Best Friend: This is an edited down version of a Twilight Zone episode. It was written by a screenwriter who became very famous as the creator/screenwrit...

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What if once a week I write something that comes to mind from my week's work?