A rescue.
Sarah called me earlier tonight in tears from a pay phone near her apartment. When I asked her what was wrong, she told me there was a tiny hurt puppy trapped in a pile of furniture a bunch of people had thrown out near her. She's small, and couldn't reach in far enough to get it out, but didn't want to sit by and watch it suffer.
So, off I went. And there's the big metal skeleton of what looks to be some kind of behemoth bed frame, and underneath the behemoth skeleton is a tiny brown puppy who could fit almost in my hands, bleeding everywhere, with one of the metal pieces smushing him while he cried. Sarah was crying, the puppy was crying, I was crying. It was horrible. I don't know if it was the animal of the people who threw the furniture out and they just didn't give a shit, or if it was a stray pup that had gotten caught underneath the furniture by accident, but he was suffering so badly that his long drawn-out cries had drawn Sarah's attention.
So, we decided to rescue it.
We're both there on our stomachs in the mud trying to talk to the little puppy, to calm it down, who of course doesn't care because he's hurting so much. We tried to slide the frame off - no go. Tried to pull the puppy out - no go. And in fact on the second attempt to slide the frame off he bit me badly enough I proceeded to bleed everywhere. Puppy's still stuck.
Sarah and I eventually came to the conclusion that if we lifted up the frame enough, we could get the puppy out. ...this was no simple task, exactly, because the thing was fucking huge, but I managed to get it off the ground and she got under there, wrapped the puppy in her jacket, and pulled him out while he cried.
Blood, mud, and wet all over my brand new car. *amused* And I don't really much care. Sarah drove, and I sat there with the puppy in the jacket in my lap, who was shaking so violently it was pitiful. But it was calmer, and licked at the hand it had bitten. Not a bad dog. Just scared. And hurt. I hate to see hurt animals.
We got to the vet, and fortunately the puppy didn't have any bones broken - just some bad cuts that they were able to stitch up. They were also cool enough to give me a shot which hurt like a motherfucker, since it hadn't been tested for rabies. And by the time they were done with that, they had the puppy all washed up and sedated and ready to be taken somewhere.
They were going to give him to a kennel, but....no. I miss my old dog who passed away, and it's been a while since I had one, and....yeah. :)
Sarah and I drove back to my place, put the puppy in a little makeshift bed, and spent a good hour tending to each other's bruises and wounds. Now she's asleep in the floor, and the puppy is curled up inside the curve of her body, all nestled against her stomach.
....it makes me smile.
More to say, but, damn it, I'm tired. o_0
So, off I went. And there's the big metal skeleton of what looks to be some kind of behemoth bed frame, and underneath the behemoth skeleton is a tiny brown puppy who could fit almost in my hands, bleeding everywhere, with one of the metal pieces smushing him while he cried. Sarah was crying, the puppy was crying, I was crying. It was horrible. I don't know if it was the animal of the people who threw the furniture out and they just didn't give a shit, or if it was a stray pup that had gotten caught underneath the furniture by accident, but he was suffering so badly that his long drawn-out cries had drawn Sarah's attention.
So, we decided to rescue it.
We're both there on our stomachs in the mud trying to talk to the little puppy, to calm it down, who of course doesn't care because he's hurting so much. We tried to slide the frame off - no go. Tried to pull the puppy out - no go. And in fact on the second attempt to slide the frame off he bit me badly enough I proceeded to bleed everywhere. Puppy's still stuck.
Sarah and I eventually came to the conclusion that if we lifted up the frame enough, we could get the puppy out. ...this was no simple task, exactly, because the thing was fucking huge, but I managed to get it off the ground and she got under there, wrapped the puppy in her jacket, and pulled him out while he cried.
Blood, mud, and wet all over my brand new car. *amused* And I don't really much care. Sarah drove, and I sat there with the puppy in the jacket in my lap, who was shaking so violently it was pitiful. But it was calmer, and licked at the hand it had bitten. Not a bad dog. Just scared. And hurt. I hate to see hurt animals.
We got to the vet, and fortunately the puppy didn't have any bones broken - just some bad cuts that they were able to stitch up. They were also cool enough to give me a shot which hurt like a motherfucker, since it hadn't been tested for rabies. And by the time they were done with that, they had the puppy all washed up and sedated and ready to be taken somewhere.
They were going to give him to a kennel, but....no. I miss my old dog who passed away, and it's been a while since I had one, and....yeah. :)
Sarah and I drove back to my place, put the puppy in a little makeshift bed, and spent a good hour tending to each other's bruises and wounds. Now she's asleep in the floor, and the puppy is curled up inside the curve of her body, all nestled against her stomach.
....it makes me smile.
More to say, but, damn it, I'm tired. o_0