Friday, October 08, 2010


I went to see Arnold today. That's what we named him. Arnold. Because he resembles the man with half his face blown off from Terminator. Actually, Julie named him. I was going for Blacky - short, simple, obvious.

I called first. The doc said he was doing better. She (the vet) seems to be warming up. I thought her a cold fish the day I met her. But to give her credit, although she did say he was old and far gone, she didn't recommend that we put him to sleep. The day after we dropped him, he was up in the morning and he ate all his food. Good sign, with that wound still gaping there on the side of his head.

Yesterday I was scrambling to call a million people and get interviews for this project I got very short notice for and I'm supposed to finish almost instantly (it's not the writing that takes up all the time, it's the information gathering), so I didn't go visit. In fact, instead of taking my evening constitutional, I went for an interview. My first for the project. Was good but I came back exhausted. So I didn't go, but I did call.

Today, I called in the evening and the doctor said she had plucked out eight dead maggots from his wound. There was still some left. She stops when he gets too distressed.

But when I went over to see him, he just lay there, in his nice clean cage, barely moving, a cone around his neck to prevent him from scratching the wound. It still looked ugly, but the vet said it was granulating. As in starting to heal. She also said he was a very good dog. He never snapped or bit when she was extracting the maggots. When it became too painful, he would simply whimper.

For the most part he doesn't make any trouble. He eats what's given to him, then lies down again. I tried to stroke him (he needs a bath badly and cannot be given one until after the wound has healed) but he barely reacted. Didn't even seem to know I was there.

I was glad he was getting such good care. If you saw him, your heart would go out to him too. I will try and visit him as often as I can. The other doggies who were boarding reacted to my presence. One little Shih Tzu pup howled and obviously wanted to be played with. It had a cone too. But I didn't dare because I didn't know what was wrong with it and how it should be handled. Besides, they're not my dogs. Little Arnold, lying on his back, quiet and sad, is.

Maybe sometimes life cuts you some slack, hey?

Anyway, I thought I'd tell you. He's not dying. He's getting better. And the vet said he was a very nice doggie. Extremely sweet tempered.

How bout that?


Anonymous said...

An excellent state of affairs. I'm so glad you took it upon yourself to help the poor little dog recover. I truly believe that small, random acts of kindness do fundamentally contribute to the betterment of our world (such as it is). --P.H.

Jenn said...

Thank you. What a coincidence! So do I. And as I throw another starfish in the water I'll stick my tongue out at the ones who say, you can't possibly hope to make a difference and say: there, I bet I made a difference to that one.