I grew up in the woods of the Ozarks in Southern Missouri. A tree lives with roots planted in the earth and limbs lifted toward the heavens. I too am trying to grow deep roots while lifting my hands toward God.

Friday, December 09, 2005

They Shoot Dogs Don't They?

I came home from work yesterday and something was missing. Instead of being assaulted at the door by Lizzy, our Schnauzer, she was nowhere to be found. I called and whistled and clapped my hands and there was silence. Part of me thought that maybe she had been let out and forgotten to let back in, so I figured she was frozen to a fire hydrant somewhere. But another part of me remembered that she had been sick yesterday and was a little worried. So I began a search of her favorite hangouts in the house, to no avail. Finally, I found her laying in the basement next to the closet. Her only response was to move her eyes a little and her usually frantic stub of a tail didn't move at all. She was surrounded by the evidence of her sickness.
I stood there not knowing what to do. I said all the responder words: treat, toy, food, outside, etc. and there was nothing. I realized she could not lift her head or walk.

So now what? Everything went through my head. Maybe she had eaten something bad, maybe she had some kind of dog flu, maybe she was faking. Do I wait it out? Do I rush her to the Vet?
I found myself asking her specific questions: Where does it hurt? What did you eat? Where all did you puke and .......? What do you want me to do? She didn't answer of course, she is a dog.

I picked her up and held her and rubbed her head and moved her bed by the heat vent. I tried to give her water.

So now what? She is eight years old, never been really sick and has been a part of our family.
Why now, at this time of the year? Could we really have Christmas without her jumping in the middle of the wrapping paper, like all the stuff was for her? She has played with the kids, slept in their beds, wrestled with them and howled at us with that frustrated "if I could only talk" howl.

But, I grew up a farm boy and dogs were a useful, wonderful companion that earned their keep by barking at strangers, working cattle, killing varmits and staying outside. Vet bills were reserved for cattle. Dogs could always be replaced.

That thought lasted for a nano-second.

So when Co got home I picked Lizzy up and we put her in the car and took her to a nearby Vet. As it turned out she didn't just look like she was dying, she actually was dying. She had an infection in her Uterus that was about to burst. They immediately took her to surgery.

She is doing fine today and we will probably pick her up this afternoon.

And, she will be present for Christmas. Actually, she probably will be the present this Christmas.

But she really is the gift that, in her own special, stupid dog way, just keeps on giving.

1 comment:

Chris said...

Glad Lizzie will be okay!