Tag Archives: Sara’s Progress

One Fish, Two Fish

When I walked into the room, a young man immediately came up to me and asked if he could ask me a question. Of course! “What day is it?” I told him it was Wednesday. He said “no, it’s my birthday!” He was six years old and I congratulated him.

I proceeded to read the wonderful Dr. Seuss book One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish to the entire first grade class. Thus, my first foray into local volunteering.

It had been a long time since I’d read that particular book, and I didn’t recall how lengthy it was or how short is the attention span of a six year-old. I also did not recall locks on each classroom door, or a sign outside stating that every adult there has a gun and that these adults will protect the children. Now that’s scary.

Several of the children were quite vocal, all while being well-mannered. As I introduced the book I gave the author’s name, Dr. Seuss. One child called out “Like the Grinch!” Yes. “And The Cat In The Hat!” said another. Right again. I was impressed.

For the most part, they were interested, especially when I used the book to interact as in the character having one hair on his head and having to go and get it cut every single day.

They’re open, interested, wondering at the world around them. Not jaded yet. No grudges to pursue. It was an eye-opening experience for me, and also the day on which I received my second assignment.

I’m here temporarily, but I have experience in organizational development and volunteerism, having worked with a Cares/Hands On group for several years as a leader. Apparently I’m now a member of their leadership group. Now I’ve homework to do about the organization, and the area, and rural volunteering to be ready for my first meeting in less than two weeks.

I’d like to write for you a retrospective of the past few months and my brief foray into baking, with an experienced guide. Also the heifers and bulls, and what I see from my limited vantage point. But not right now.

I will give you an update on Sara the little yellow dog that was dumped on the farm end of summer. She’s healing from her dog bite-infected wounds and learning to walk on the injured limb. She hopped out of the crate for the first time yesterday, and for the first time since the attack she ate standing up. She’s eating for three to make up for earlier loss of appetite, and I put her on a zip line yesterday (it was finally warm enough for her to spend a few minutes outdoors in the sunshine) and when I returned a few moments later she had moved about 20′, hadn’t laid down to rest, and actually came about 30′ towards me before she got too tired to keep standing.

Progress! Her vet recommended physical therapy and I’ve just the place, a wheelchair ramp, then stairs. A few more weeks and she may be the sunny outdoor patrol dog we knew BDA (before dog attack). She’s still young and learning, but has great energy and when she decided she wanted to live, I took her on as a challenge.

We’re getting along fine in the countryside, or as the French would say “au milieu de nulle part” aka the middle of nowhere. Things are looking up work-wise and when I’m not playing dog nurse, I am now engaged as a volunteer helping the greater community as well. Keeps me off the streets! Cheers, Dee

How NOT To Train Your Puppy

Yes, I’m a fan of the dragon movies. First we should start with what “normies” do in selecting and training a new pup.

First, the family has the umpteenth dinner conversation about getting a pup. Mom finally relents, knowing that she’ll be ultimately responsible and the de facto owner once the kids leave for college.

Family chooses the breed, etc. and loads up on accessories depending on situation (indoor/outdoor, size for collar and bet et al). Wee wee pads are purchased.

Puppy comes home with new name and promises for potty and obedience training to begin asap.

Lots of hugs and family photos. Day one goes OK. Months follow, pup becomes family dog, is potty trained, and knows a few basic commands. Life goes on.

Now here’s how to NOT do it.

Abused, emaciated pup is dumped in front of a farm, calls go out to find a home and no-one will help, including Animal Control (1/2 mile in the country outside district) and Humane Society. Efforts are made to socialize the pup, finally being able to hold up a hand to pet without pup thinking she’d be hit.

Outdoor pup gets chic plastic-covered DeWalt tool box as doggie den, patrols property around house religiously and visits neighbors from time to time.

Little yellow pup gets a name and collar. Goes into heat and is immediately targeted for sexual conquest by neighboring farm dog. Closest spay date possible nearby is three months out, not a possibility. Drive three hours for an overnight in Big City to have spayed at our old vet. Unable to catch her routinely, absorbable sutures are used and medications are given in treats/food. “Come when called” is not an option… yet.

Ten days after surgery, healing is complete and Sara (after Hall & Oates song Sara Smile, because she’s a happy, well-fed semi-feral pup now) goes visiting on her own.

On New Years Day, Sara is viciously attacked by an unknown dog, and is found lying motionless in the front yard. Infection sets in immediately, with inordinate swelling leading to drainage and necrotic tissue. Princess Lulu’s huge metal crate is commandeered and space set up in a warm room for convalescence.

Many wee wee pads are purchased. Sara will not eat or drink. Over the next three weeks she recovers slowly, depending upon humans for all food and water, epsom salt baths, and several weeks of strong antibiotics. During the second week she tries to wag her tail. End of third week and skin and bones again, she’s slowly scampering on a leash, still unable to use fully the necrotic leg.

What we know is that she likes and trusts certain people, hopefully has a healthy fear of large dogs that are not her BFF Princess Lulu (our 36 lb. dog), comes to us but doesn’t associate it with the command Come, does not bite us or complain one bit about her condition, and is finally flea-free and bathed within an inch of her existence.

The future holds promise if the leg heals enough to be used. I’ll continue to put in the time and effort, as she has stopped soiling the crate in favor of being carried out to the grass, and only uses the pads for shredding or piling in the corner if dirty. She’s neat! And despite all odds she has a will to live that is enviable.

That said, it’s not the easiest way to potty train a pup. But in a pinch, it works. Neuter and spay, the kindest way! Cheers, Dee