Serendipity…

I have a new foster dog.

(If you just sighed, shook your head and said, "Oh, no" or something to that effect, we are sooooo in a fight...)

It was Friday the 23rd of June, and I was driving home from work when this dog ran out in front of my car.

Calm down, calm down. I didn’t hit him. Someone else did, though, and the poor, little guy was only utilizing 3/4ths of his paw power as a result. He was obviously in a lot of pain, and needed immediate veterinary attention.

Since I am not the kind of person that can just overlook a creature in need (much to my family’s dismay, I’m sure), I pulled over and followed the dog until he collapsed in someone's front yard. I noticed an old lady sitting on the front porch fanning herself.

“Hey, is this your dog,” I inquired?

“Not really,” answered the elderly woman. “He’s just a stray. I’ve been feeding him ever since he showed up as a pup. He lives under my porch here.”

“Do you know what happened to him? He looks hurt,” I asked?

“Yeah. He got hit by a car, poor thing. The people in the car didn't even stop after they hit him. Just kept going. Probably assumed they killed him. But he's not dead, just hurting. Cries all the time now. Real sad. I’d take him to the vet, but I can’t afford it. Especially, if he needs X-rays or something like that. I think that paw might be broken. He won't put weight on it. I called the pound last week, but no one has come out to take him. I guess they are too busy. If he doesn’t get better soon on his own, I’ll have my grandson come over and put him out of his misery. Probably what the pound would do, anyway. Probably be doing them a favor by taking care of it ourselves.”

I looked over at the dog. He was lying in the grass, gently licking his wounded paw and whimpering. I knew I couldn't leave him there.

So, I turned back to the lady and said, “May I take him?”

“Sure. Be my guest,” She replied.

The old lady helped me catch the injured dog (which wasn’t very hard. He was in too much pain to move very fast), and I gently placed him in the back of my car. He was terrified - literately frozen with fear, and shaking all over. I'm sure he thought I was about to kill him.

I thanked the elderly woman, and immediately drove the dog to the emergency vet. On the way, I decided to call him “Haskell” because I was just north of…you guessed it…Haskell Avenue when he ran out in front of my car. Plus, I knew I had to call him something once I got him to the vet, and Haskell just seemed to fit.

The doctor, after examining him, came back to me with the whole, “Well, there’s good news and there is bad news”. Apparently, Haskell had (amazingly enough) avoided breaking anything – at least as far as the vet could without performing x-rays. It was possible that it was something as mild as a severe sprain in his wrist and shoulder, or as serious as a fracture (neither of which they can do much about except prescribe pain medication). What the vet did find, though, was that Haskell was in shock. Dogs in shock are a little trickier to treat, apparently. It makes it more difficult to sedate them safely when performing medical tests and procedures. Plus, since Haskell wasn’t my dog, but a stray, the vet didn’t want to perform a bunch of expensive tests only to discover that the dog was on death’s doorstep or had so many problems that the most humane thing was to simply put him to sleep.

The vet recommended that I keep Haskell over night, observe him and take him to the SPCA the following morning. Apparently, the SPCA down on Industrial no longer puts animals down for space. They only put a dog to sleep if he is too sick, old or aggressive to be adoptable. The emergency vet told me that if I offered to “sponsor” Haskell’s treatment, then the SPCA would treat him – barring any life-threatening injuries (they have a medical center that offers low cost or free animal care and vaccinations) – and then help adopt him out if/when he recovered. The emergency vet thought that this would be the best option for me, so I would not be stuck with expensive vet bills for a dog I found on the street.

First night with me…
Photo by Deals

So, early the next morning, I took Haskell down to the SPCA. The clinic was holding one of its pet vaccine specials, and people were lined up with their pets in the parking lot. It was completely swamped, but with Trevor’s help I got the car parked and Haskell inside the building. Sadly, however, the SPCA was full (largely due to the influx of unwanted dogs and cats in the summer months) and there was not enough room in the veterinary wing to take in yet another sick or injured animal, even with a sponsor.

“If you leave him with us, he’ll be put to sleep before the day is over,” said the lady at the receptionist’s desk.

Of course, the very idea of leaving him – knowing that he would be put to death by dinnertime - made me burst into tears (there are very few things that will make me cry in public, but one of them is the idea of putting an animal to sleep just because no one wants him. I just can’t help it. I know I cannot save them all, but I didn’t have to place Haskell on “Doggie Death Row”, either). So, I thanked the lady at the receptionist’s desk, picked up Haskell, and walked back to the car.

Then I did what I probably should have done in the first place. I called my vet and made an appointment for Haskell. To my surprise, they already knew about him and his unfortunate run in with a car (apparently the emergency vet had faxed over his medical records incase I decided to keep or foster him), and told me to come right over. Once there, my vet treated him at virtually no cost to me – including a complimentary flea treatment utilizing the feline equivalent of Frontline (which the vet measured out for Haskell’s size and weight).

Because Haskell was still in shock, he couldn’t be properly vaccinated (dogs in shock have suppressed immune systems that can make vaccinations very, very dangerous) for at least a week. However, as of July 1st, the little guy is now “legal” and has an appointment in a few weeks for a Lepto Booster and to be…ahem…neutered.

Me so cute…
Photo by Deals

In the meantime, Haskell is adjusting to the “pampered life”. Before he met me, he had never been in a car, inside a house or walked on a leash. He is a quick study, though, and is currently mastering the “sit” command. Also, mainly due to the brilliance of crate training, Haskell hasn’t had an accident inside (thank goodness!). He’s about a year old, and just as sweet as he can be. A little timid around new people and places, but warms up once he realizes you aren’t going to kill or eat him. I’ve never even heard him growl or bark – only whine when his painkillers wear off and his paw starts to bother him. In fact, Haskell’s main line of defense when he gets nervous or scared is to drool excessively, which I find rather odd (the vet says this is normal for dogs with submissive personalities and/or dogs that have been abused or mistreated by people). In other words, I’ve found the male version of my dog, Gypsy Kitty (who’s key defense mechanism is to hide under the dining room table and/or get as close to “mommy” as physically possible when scared).

Happy Boy…
Photo by Deals

Actually, Gypsy Kitty and Haskell are alike in more ways than their irrational fears of…well, let’s be honest here…everything. They are almost identical to each other. In fact, when I first saw Haskell dart out in front of my car, I thought he was Gypsy. Seriously. It is uncanny how much they look alike.

Gypsy Kitty and Haskell
Photo by Deals

Anyway, I am quickly becoming way too attached to Haskell (so is Gypsy. Haskell is her new best friend and perpetual doggie shadow). I’m not sure I’ll be able to let Haskell go. In other words, it is more than likely that he’s already found his forever home with me.

Best Friends…
Photo by Deals

Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. Lots of people have two dogs. However, since my sister’s dog is also a quasi-permanent guest at my house, I feel like I’m becoming THAT neighborhood lady with all the dogs. That said, Dolly is currently spending time her “mom” at the moment (something THE RUNT says she wants to do more often), so maybe having two dogs isn’t that unrealistic. Plus, Dolly is going on twelve, so it’s not like she wants to do more than eat and sleep nowadays, anyway. Even when she is with me, Dolly is the quintessential low-maintenance canine. She just demands regular feedings, her Temperpedic doggie mattress, and frequent treats to be happy.

So, I’ve decided not to think about finding a home for Haskell for the time being. He still isn’t fully recovered from the run in with the car, and hasn’t been neutered, yet. Instead, I’m just going to keep-on-keeping-on and see what develops. After “The Carla Tragedy” (see HERE and HERE), I’m not sure I’ll be able to trust adopting Haskell out to strangers. You never know, though. Maybe the perfect home for Haskell will suddenly present itself. Maybe that home will be with me, and maybe not. Only time will tell.

In the meantime, I’m doing the multiple-dog-thing and enjoying the summer sun. Gypsy Kitty has a friend and Haskell has a home…what could be more perfect than that?!

Sleepy…
Photo by Deals

A dog’s life…
Photo by Deals