Three months before, he arrived as a matted, dirty, shy little guy but somewhere deep in there I could still see the hope in his eyes that he had someone who would answer his cries when he was in pain. His eyes had a pleading look..Are you going to lock me in a crate?, Are you going to answer me or understand me when I am in pain? or am in for the same treatment I've had since I've been born?
The first night was so hard on both of us, just getting to understand each other. He whined and I was frustrated not knowing what to do for him. It got easier and easier over time. When I found out he whined when he needed something, I finally learned to anticipate his needs. He no longer had the need to whine. I also had taken him to the vet and started him down the road to recovery..so he had the meds he needed to help his pain.
He started a new attitude and was no longer content to lay back and whine with his life. He became the 'master of his destiny'. His nature turned into stubbornness, no longer would he depend on others. He did not want to be treated differently. As soon as he could, he learned to hold his head up to drink water from the bowl, just like 'the big dogs did it'! If I tried to give him more water with the syringe, concerned he wasn't getting enough, he would throw a fit...no more special devices for him. He would not lay back and be treated 'special'.
In the beginning, the very first day, in fact, he lay on his back in my lap. His legs were drawn up to his body. I noticed when he fell down, his legs drew up underneath him. He was never extended. He never made a voluntary movement in his legs. They were used to stand and walk. But for him to make a voluntary movement as to stretch out, or take his paw and purposefully put it somewhere, he could not.
That night, I performed the first of many therapy sessions on his legs. His back legs were curled up to his body. When I felt for the muscles, I could not find any muscles in the lower part of his legs. They were so very tiny, even for his size. His leg seemed to be skin and bone. The tendons were taught and felt like two wires stretched under the skin. His muscles had actually atrophied and the tendons were short and pulled tight. This dog was having trouble walking because he could not support himself on his legs. The back ones especially. The front legs had more muscle, but every time he used them, the front legs splayed out to the side of his body. He did not have control on his front legs. The right one appeared to be worse than the left. The muscle there appeared to be large and actually in the way of his leg coming close to his body.
Our therapy consisted of me massaging his legs, then moving them in walking fashion. We would stretch them the way they should go to walk. First the front legs, bringing them in close to the body and in a bicycling motion to walk. The back legs needed so much attention, massaging and stretching. We would stretch them out and back in again. One thing we did not work on, the toes. I did not realize this until we started going to the neurologist, but his toes remained stiff. When he would stand, many times his toes rotated under and he would stand on the tops of his feet because his toes did not bend. All of this because he was not either allowed to walk (crated), or worked with when he did start walking.
Scout had come from this condition to running down the path in the woods so fast, I had to do a 'power walk' to keep up with him, just 2 days before his testing! He still walked with his head down, he could not hold it up, there was a bow in his back because he could not lift his head, but boy oh boy! could he run!
I would take all the dogs to the woods for a walk behind my house. I found myself yelling, 'Scout, Scout, wait, stop...slow down, wait until we get there...' Scout, slow down! He was so proud of 'leading' the pack through the woods!
Back to Scout's testing day and my cup of coffee. The only thing that bothered me was a diagnosis of losing Scout. If they told me, Scout is not a good candidate for surgery...no problem. I would not like it for Scout. I really hate giving meds to Scout and that would mean he would live his life on pain meds. He would still have a life though and that would be a blessing. Being able to take care of himself, eating and drinking on his own, playing with other dogs, running, walking, doing all the things no one ever thought he would...he would have a wonderful life!
I just could not imagine losing him so soon after finding him. A dog that had so much will to live and survive, needed a chance. He is a miracle that he even is living today. I think many animals, not to mention humans who would have given up in a pool of self pity so long before this little guy!
My time for reflecting had grown short...time to feed all the dogs...get all the paperwork together, and get ready for our trip. It was going to be a hot one that June day..I needed to be ready for anything that came my way!
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