The Perils of Loving a Three-Legged Poodle
The first time I saw her, she was a ragged mess. Her fur was so badly matted and a dingy gray that was unbearable. But, even the condition of her fur was nothing in comparison to her leg. Her forearm of her right front leg was at a horrible angle. It was a devastating sight. It is my understanding as an employee of an animal welfare organization, that not every animal makes it through the process. With a break as bad as that, I didn't hold much hope for the matted poodle. We set her up in our owned dog kennels despite the fact that she was a stray so we could keep an eye on her. Providing her with a plush blanket and food, she was quite the happy dog. During her time at the shelter, she proved to be patient, kind, and gentle. Everything a poodle should be, we decided to call her Shannon.
Shannon passed her evaluation assessments with flying colors. Such a sweet and well mannered dog despite the trials she had been through. But there was still one glaring imperfection. Her leg. Because she passed her evaluation tests, she was set for surgery on July 2. I was approached to foster her while she healed from her wounds because her the original foster parents were out of town. I quickly agreed. I have a bit of a poodle bias. And so, I took her home. Still quite sore from her surgery she was on strict cage rest. We went out for potty breaks and Shannon was quickly learning how to coordinate without her right front leg.
The more I watched her, the more I believed we were destined to be together. She was now left-pawed, having only that one left, she was very gentle, but had a huge personality. She was so inquisitive and loved to learn about anything. Incredibly smart, she could figure her way out of any place she got into. Shannon loved people and animals alike, always wanting to play and run. How she loved to run.
Her original foster parents gave me their blessing to continue to take care of her, and massive amounts of joy entered into my life. As I struggled through some difficulties, Shannon was always there to give me a lick on the nose and an affectionate nuzzle. Through her existence, she had taught me a lot. Just because she lost a leg, that wouldn't slow her down. Even if she fell over, she'd get back up with a gruff and continue on. I looked forward to each and every evening I would come home, because she would stand up, dance, wait for a pat on the head and then rush out into the living room. Shannon loved to be outside. There were so many things to do, and sniff. So much grass to lay in and things to play with. One evening, Shannon and I danced around the backyard for nearly an hour. This dog reopened the gateway to my childhood where I danced to dance, sang to sing, ran to run and rolled through the grass. Shannon would always fall beside me and bury her head into my chest. Again, reinforcing the fact that we were destined to be together.
She loved to snuggle on my bed in my blankets. She would intentionally cover herself and use a pillow like a human when she could. Always willing to snuggle, I would pet her for hours, but she wouldn't be demanding. When I was done, she was content to just lay beside me. This dog won my heart quickly. With her amazing patience, strength and personality she was amazing.
This morning, I woke up, took her outside and got her her breakfast. Nothing out of the ordinary. She followed me back into my room and I put her on my bed to lay with me. Bolt was on tv, and we watched it together. When the film was over, I asked if she wanted to go outside. She enthusiastically jumped upward, but immediately fell over crying. Writhing on the bed, I tried my best to quiet her as I called work to see what we could do. After I set up an appointment for her, I went out and prepared the car for the trip. Having only one front leg (now which she couldn't bear any weight on) she could not walk. Cradling her gently, I took her out to the car.
My focus is in the shop, so I had to drive the beast of a van. I traveled slower than normal so her crate would not slide around on the back seat. I carefully carried her into the clinic, her painful crying accompanying me as I moved. I checked in and waited. Dr. C had the great fortune of having Shannon as a patient. Even with the manipulating of her leg, she was as sweet as ever. Trying to kiss everyone she could. She was whisked away twice for x-rays, each time lead to more bad news. First, her elbow was dislocated. Thinking they could just splint and send her home, they checked on the status of her shoulder. Although, that was dislocated too, and showed signs of congenital defects that would require more surgery and possible amputation. Where would this poodle be without her two front legs? My supervisor came in with the grim news. That her quality of life would be so drastically lowered that it was the right decision to end her suffering. Something I understand, but couldn't yet comprehend. This is a dog that taught me how to live again, and now she was facing death.
I don't know how long I spent hugging her. Like before, she licked away my tears. My coworkers came in and out and I called my mom at work with the news. I asked if I could hold her, and was granted to be with her during her final moments. She didn't mind the poke, she just laid in my arms. Her eyes were locked on mine as I watched the life drain from her body. She closed her eyes and I kissed her head. And with that, she was gone. I hugged her for another long while and left her on the exam table. Dr. C came in to console me and gave me three hugs. She thanked me for giving her a good home and taking care of her. It was better than her staying in a shelter. She told me that I did all I could and should not blame myself, that sometimes we can't save every dog. Still in tears, I left the clinic.
I desperately miss my foster dog. She was a joy in the short time I had her. Shannon, I'm very glad I was able to give you a portion of the life you truly deserved. You were a good dog. I love you, I'll never forget you and I miss you already.
Love forever,
Your person, Chelsey.
Shannon passed her evaluation assessments with flying colors. Such a sweet and well mannered dog despite the trials she had been through. But there was still one glaring imperfection. Her leg. Because she passed her evaluation tests, she was set for surgery on July 2. I was approached to foster her while she healed from her wounds because her the original foster parents were out of town. I quickly agreed. I have a bit of a poodle bias. And so, I took her home. Still quite sore from her surgery she was on strict cage rest. We went out for potty breaks and Shannon was quickly learning how to coordinate without her right front leg.
The more I watched her, the more I believed we were destined to be together. She was now left-pawed, having only that one left, she was very gentle, but had a huge personality. She was so inquisitive and loved to learn about anything. Incredibly smart, she could figure her way out of any place she got into. Shannon loved people and animals alike, always wanting to play and run. How she loved to run.
Her original foster parents gave me their blessing to continue to take care of her, and massive amounts of joy entered into my life. As I struggled through some difficulties, Shannon was always there to give me a lick on the nose and an affectionate nuzzle. Through her existence, she had taught me a lot. Just because she lost a leg, that wouldn't slow her down. Even if she fell over, she'd get back up with a gruff and continue on. I looked forward to each and every evening I would come home, because she would stand up, dance, wait for a pat on the head and then rush out into the living room. Shannon loved to be outside. There were so many things to do, and sniff. So much grass to lay in and things to play with. One evening, Shannon and I danced around the backyard for nearly an hour. This dog reopened the gateway to my childhood where I danced to dance, sang to sing, ran to run and rolled through the grass. Shannon would always fall beside me and bury her head into my chest. Again, reinforcing the fact that we were destined to be together.
She loved to snuggle on my bed in my blankets. She would intentionally cover herself and use a pillow like a human when she could. Always willing to snuggle, I would pet her for hours, but she wouldn't be demanding. When I was done, she was content to just lay beside me. This dog won my heart quickly. With her amazing patience, strength and personality she was amazing.
This morning, I woke up, took her outside and got her her breakfast. Nothing out of the ordinary. She followed me back into my room and I put her on my bed to lay with me. Bolt was on tv, and we watched it together. When the film was over, I asked if she wanted to go outside. She enthusiastically jumped upward, but immediately fell over crying. Writhing on the bed, I tried my best to quiet her as I called work to see what we could do. After I set up an appointment for her, I went out and prepared the car for the trip. Having only one front leg (now which she couldn't bear any weight on) she could not walk. Cradling her gently, I took her out to the car.
My focus is in the shop, so I had to drive the beast of a van. I traveled slower than normal so her crate would not slide around on the back seat. I carefully carried her into the clinic, her painful crying accompanying me as I moved. I checked in and waited. Dr. C had the great fortune of having Shannon as a patient. Even with the manipulating of her leg, she was as sweet as ever. Trying to kiss everyone she could. She was whisked away twice for x-rays, each time lead to more bad news. First, her elbow was dislocated. Thinking they could just splint and send her home, they checked on the status of her shoulder. Although, that was dislocated too, and showed signs of congenital defects that would require more surgery and possible amputation. Where would this poodle be without her two front legs? My supervisor came in with the grim news. That her quality of life would be so drastically lowered that it was the right decision to end her suffering. Something I understand, but couldn't yet comprehend. This is a dog that taught me how to live again, and now she was facing death.
I don't know how long I spent hugging her. Like before, she licked away my tears. My coworkers came in and out and I called my mom at work with the news. I asked if I could hold her, and was granted to be with her during her final moments. She didn't mind the poke, she just laid in my arms. Her eyes were locked on mine as I watched the life drain from her body. She closed her eyes and I kissed her head. And with that, she was gone. I hugged her for another long while and left her on the exam table. Dr. C came in to console me and gave me three hugs. She thanked me for giving her a good home and taking care of her. It was better than her staying in a shelter. She told me that I did all I could and should not blame myself, that sometimes we can't save every dog. Still in tears, I left the clinic.
I desperately miss my foster dog. She was a joy in the short time I had her. Shannon, I'm very glad I was able to give you a portion of the life you truly deserved. You were a good dog. I love you, I'll never forget you and I miss you already.
Love forever,
Your person, Chelsey.