Though I'm definately a dog person, I never considered myself a fanatic dog lover. You know the type? They are the people who spend exorbitant amounts of money at PetWorld, and dote on their poochies by buying gourmet food and adorning dog collars with bling. But, I guess I have a bit of that in me, though I draw the line at pig's ears once in a blue moon.......well and sometimes sharing my bed.
I blame this all on Lucy. She's our oldest family dog, a beloved member of the street and pal to our extended family of friends. Born with an old soul, Lucy is now the eldest in a neighbourhood full of dog lovers. Though I'm far from her preferred litter buddy, that distinction belongs fully to my husband, over the years Lucy (named after Lucy Ricardo)somehow managed to get under my skin. I'm not alone either. I don't know what makes her so exceptional, but biases aside, she truly is. My fur shedding, loud snoring, lumbering Chocolate Lab has admirers across the country.
We initially brought Lucy home when our daughter was an infant. How naive to think that this would be a smooth transition with both my husband and I working and basically two infants to attend to. Consequently, Lucy didn't get much of my attention during her puppy days. Consequently, Lucy, vying for my husband's full attention perhaps, took it upon herself to chew and demolish all of my shoes in a span of a month and devour every throw rug in the house. She and I didn't get a good start on our "bonding." What did occur right away was that she was very attentive of my daughter, always aware of her safety. Part of this could've been that there were tasty things to be had if one sat under a high chair and pretended to be guarding the house princess while waiting for mouthwatering morsels to drop from the chubby baby hand.
Hmmmmm......no..............she was devoted..................
It's hard to believe, when I look at her now, that she was a menace as a pup. She flunked out of obedience classes, dug conspicuous holes in my garden, ate anything in sight, she even chewed a big hunk of a stair in the front hallway. One day when she was about a year old, it was obvious that she was not feeling well, and we had to tie her up for the day outside while we went to work. When we returned home, she still wasn't well but we decided to take her for a walk anyway. With me pushing our daughter in a stroller and my husband walking Lucy on a lead we set off for a trip around our downtown neighbourhood worried that we may have to take her to the Vet's.
When she stopped to "do her thing" for the umpteenth time that day, I looked over at her and saw what I thought was something poking at her. When my husband bent over to check, he quickly realized that it wasn't something poking up from the ground. OH NO! It was something poking out of her. A piece of a Superstore shopping bag was sticking out of her rear end! The dog had eaten a friggin' shopping bag.....the cause of her belly aching all day! And as my husband removed said bag, I looked to the heavens and thanked God that I wasn't her litter buddy.
I'll never forget the proud pouncy poochie steps for the rest of the walk, like she was thinking about how her dog buddies were going to react at their next poker game when she regalled them with her story. Gross!
A she made the transition from adolescense to adulthood, Lucy continued to play an integral role in our family. She had calmed down considerably once her teething was over with and settled into her role of protector. Always up for some fun, she inevitably allowed any snot nosed kid to crawl all over her without a single growl. She never missed a trip to the beach, a campfire or a weenie roast. She rode shotgun on many trips to Ontario and Nova Scotia.
Friend to all other furry creatures, Lucy never made a scene as far as protecting her territory or doing the "alpha" dog thing. There is a simple explanation to this. I believe that she considered herself more human than canine. She took a cue from the humans around her. If they werent too concerned with other furballs, than why should she? Her favourite place to hang was in Spencer's Island, a small community on the shores of the Minas Channel in Nova Scotia, where my husband's family have a summer home. Even as an old lady dog, Lucy always perks up during the drive when we would hit the curving road that hugs the shoreline from Port Greville to Spencer's Island.........the smell of the salt air? The familiar turns of the car? The shared feeling of anticipation of her car mates? Whatever it was, sleepy old Lucy would register the location in her dog brain and start panting with a smile on her face. She knew exactly where we were headed, and she approved.
One summer, when she was 5 years old, we left Lucy in Spencer's Island with my in-laws instead of taking her on a family vacation. By this time, we had an infant son. So, we felt we had our hands full without taking the dog with us. The night we got home, we had a call from Spencer's Island. Something was wrong with Lucy. She couldn't lift her back end up. No wimpering or yelps...........just the inability to stand up. Arrangements were made to meet my in-laws halfway in Moncton the next day. When my husband returned home, it was obvious that something was very wrong. A quick after hours emergency consult with the Vet (arent these things always after hours?) and she was diagnosed with a slipped disc so severe that she was paralyzed from the waist down. The prognosis was grim.
For two days, we struggled with what to do. Surgery seemed outrageously expensive, and the chances of recovery were slim. In the meantime, the Vet kept Lucy and began acupuncture and steroid treatments. On the second day, my husband and I with heavy hearts drove over to the vet hospital with the thought that we would have to decide to put her down. We couldn't afford the surgery..........our options seemed empty.
We found Lucy lying on the floor of the room where other animals are caged. Thinking that I would be the strong one, the one who would keep her wits about her as we discussed our dog's future, I was blasted with a surge of compassion I didn't know had accumulated inside me. Before I knew it, I was splayed on the floor beside my dog with the sad eyes, sobbing. It was then that the Vet told us that he thought he was seeing some improvement........that they was some movement in her hind legs. He asked if we would give him a week to see if he could turn the paralysis around.
By this point, my husband and I would've re-mortgaged the house. Of course we wouldn't stop the treatments. We'd find the money................anything to get our dog back home where she belonged. We left her there in good hands with hope. Our pooch patient responded to the treatment, while endearing herself to all the staff at the hospital. When the Vet was in surgery or dealing with another sick animal, Lucy would drag herself over to the action and keep the Vet's feet warm. She never did like to be alone.
After two days, her wag was back. After a week, she was able to put some weight on her legs. We carried her to the car and continued to nurse her back to health from home. Treatments continued weekly for another month, and by then she was jogging along outside. When it was all said and done, the only indication of her near death experience was a bump on her back and a wiggle in her walk..............oh, and a depleted bank account.
To be continued...................Part 2: Lucy Meets the Blonde Upstart.
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