Said the dastardly Snidely Whiplash of Dudley Do-Right, handsomely riding off into the sunset after his victory saving Penelope from being tied to the railroad track once again.

But wait, I’m the good guy in this story. After all, it’s my story. A while ago a little yellow dog was dumped at the farm, starving and evidently beaten for some time. She was terrified of humans but starving. I tried to find her a home, to no avail. She turned out to be a really nice dog so she stayed around, kindly patrolling the property in exchange for meals. She had evidently been much abused, starved and dumped. When I tossed a tennis ball she thought I was going to hit her. Carry a broom to sweep the garage? She slunk away to not be hit.

But before she came to stay, my father-in-law was so pleased at tricking her into the empty outdoor dog pen. He came inside to crow about his success when my m-i-l said, “oh, you mean that dog in front of the window?” In moments, this twenty pound dog had gotten over a 5′ chain link fence and back out into the yard. She was promptly named “Sneaky” for her elusiveness.

Time went on and she was re-named “Sara” because when she got through the gate and went into the pasture with The Three Amigos, young bulls who ignored her as she ignored them, she was jumping joyously through the tall grasses, a huge grin on her usually sad little face. It’s from Sara Smile, a seventies song by Hall & Oates.

A few months later the neighbor’s dog came calling, as Sara was in heat. In December we drove three hours to a family vet to have her checked out and spayed, on prescription drugs for the car ride because she was still semi-feral and always elusive. She had to stay in our dog’s crate for a few days until the sutures absorbed and she was well enough to roam outdoors again.

Just as she was well, we think she went visiting neighbors (each at least a mile away) or a big dog came around here because we found her, unable to move, viciously mauled. We called the family vet in Dallas, the bites were severe and infected, and Sara lived near death for a few weeks in Lulu’s crate in the heated pantry across the breezeway. Eventually the infection went away and she needed to learn to walk again.

It was evident that there was some nerve damage in the right rear leg, how much muscle she would be able to gein back was in question. When she started walking, she knuckled under, meaning that top of the right rear paw was used as her tread, and it was swolled, split and constantly bleeding and infected. I ordered non-slip dog socks with velcro enclosure. She bit off the socks and then the velcro.

The vet recommended a full-leg splint. It came in the mail and fit perfectly. She tore the velcro straps and began eating the shoe itself. I wrapped the leg in vet wrap over the shoe. She took it off.

A couple of weeks ago, she was allowed to wear the sock an hour or two a day, supervised, then the boot for the rest of the day. Into the pantry at night, boot off, sock on after a foot wash and antibiotic ointment. Sock came off by morning. Wrap spling and another day.

Last week she went to sock only. Sock came off. Sock with vet wrap. Off. Vet wrap only just to keep from reverting to “knuckling” when her muscles get tired. Off. Wrap with a piece of athletic tape. Works some days, others I find it in the yard.

So she does let me cut her nails and give her a bath but she’s got a buddy temporarily, in the yard with her on a zip line. She was very jealous for a while, even if I talked to the other dog or helped him back around a tree trunk he’d gone around one too many times. Now she sleeps in the pantry on a nice rug (no crate anymore) and she’s dying to get out in the morning, doesn’t even want to go back in if it’s raining.

Once Lulu got out of the house and was eager to go into the pantry with Sara. My hucband closed the levered door. A moment later, they were both running amok in the garden, having the time of their lives. Lulu knows how to open doors. Luckily she hasn’t taught Sara yet, however she’s taught her everything else from good things (it’s ok if a human pets you or tosses a tennis ball, that’s called a game in dog world) to bad (fetch means go get the ball and never release it to the human, at least without a treat).

I know that an animal is most vulnerable when eating, sleeping or pooping. Sara is safe now, and feels safer at night in the pantry, and near the house for the others. Yet it is I, the modern-day Snidely Whiplash, who is routinely foiled again in my efforts to keep that foot clean and healing. She is Dudley Do-Right and mostly wins the day. I guess that’s OK, saving her life, twice, shouldn’t demand thanks. It feels good that mainly she follows me around while gardening or walking Lulu like I’m the Pied Piper. But that would be another story.

We’re enjoying some rain today. We spent some time helping family an hour or so away, the other day. They got hit with a tornado, one of four that hit the area, and they still don’t have power. Their homes seem OK (pending insurance inspections) but many old oaks and pecans on the property didn’t make it and blocked driveways et al. We made sure they had driveway access, food, a compressor to run the frig and a few chain saws. One has to be ready for anything on a ranch in a rural area, especially with continually worsening weather. It doesn’t help that in this county not hit this week, Trump got 77% of the votes and that doesn’t help because climate change doesn’t exist and his economic policies are sound, at least until Medicaid, SNAP, now Medicare and possibly Social Security are cut.

Enjoy the summer! Dee