Books Bygone

Friday, October 14, 2011

Life isn't fair.

And I'm not talking about the unfairness felt by Occupiers of various cities. I am talking about the day in, day out, fact of the matter: Life is not fair. And no one said it was going to be.

Turtlin' along
On my way home from doing some errands, I got caught behind an over-sized load and a guy who really wanted to pass it. I had taken my camera with me for just such an occasion. "Turtlin' along" had potential as a post title.

You may be able to see the intersection just ahead. I took the pic and caught up. The over-sized load turned left.  The other truck and I had to slow way down for him to do so. Just as we were able to move forward, the other driver and I saw a small dog in the road. He hit it, but from my angle it looked like just barely. I stopped and got out. He kept going through the intersection, but then turned around and came back. 

The dog was trying to get herself off the road and any one could see that her ankle was not good-- as in paw flapping in the wind. The other driver made an attempt at seeing if any of the people working at the gas station on the corner recognized her. Meanwhile, she had calmed down as much as is possible under the circumstances. I stood so she was in my shadow. 

I tried to think of actions I could take. I am Red-Cross certified but I am not certified to put a splint on a paw that's flapping in the wind. Even trying to pet her to reassure her seemed like not such a good idea. She'd tried to bite the other driver. I did think about shooting her-- would I have had to call the sheriff first? Probably yes, to be on the safe side-- but she wasn't mangled beyond recognition, so that wasn't really a possibility. So I just stood there talking to her.

The other driver came back and said he was sorry but there wasn't anything he could do. No one knew her and he had to get somewhere. He did help me put her in the back of the pickup so I could take her to the vet.

By the time we arrived at the Vet, and were waiting outside, the poor little thing was slowly going into shock. But she tried to be responsive to me and to the nurse who jumped up into the truck with her. She had a friendly little face, and may have, at one time, made someone happy. She just had that look about her.

After a cursory look at her while she was still in the bed of the truck, the Vet and I discussed the options, at that time. I opted for the Vet to get her cleaned up, give her some pain medication and a better look. I was to come back at 4.

I had become responsible-- morally and financially-- for this stupid dog.

At 4 o'clock I learned that the bones in her leg were shattered, it would need to be amputated. Her pelvis was in four separate pieces. That's not the way pelvises are put together. There are distinct bones in a mammalian pelvis, but they are fused together. And her pelvis was no longer attached to her spine. X-rays do not reveal much in the way of soft tissue damage, so there were questions about the innervation of her other leg, given that nerves follow bones in the periphery. But, on the other hand, nerves are not bones. In the face of trauma, nerves don't break, they try to hang on, to re-wire. That's one reason she would have to convalesce for several months following surgery intended to get her bones back into position. Cross you fingers and pray to God that nerves follow suit.

As I write, she has already passed over into Doggy Heaven.

I like our country vet. He didn't charge me anything-- although the x-ray and euthanasia drugs cost him something. I did pay the receptionist $40 to give to her father who has a backhoe. For the uninitiated, backhoes dig holes.

RIP, Millie (which is what I named her).

And now a word about Mr. In a Big Hurry. Shame on you. Shame. And shame on your wife who got out of your truck and saw this poor little dog and didn't talk you into doing the right thing. I hope your real character was revealed to her and that she withholds sex from you for quite some time. For shame. I hope when your little dog goes missing and you look everywhere for it ... you find it.  And you owe me 40 bucks, you jerk.

There are jerks everywhere. Life isn't fair. Much as I love it, the South has its share of jerks. To his credit, the jerk did come back. To his dishonor, he would have left Millie on the  road, to die while being picked at by buzzards.


2 comments:

  1. I always laugh when you claim to be an honorary Southerner. I will so no longer. You have grace, humility and jack assery as any true Southerner.

    I am sad for Millie and sad for the man whose karma will inevitably catch up to him but I am glad more than ever that I am your daughter. When you were helping Millie I was helping an elderly man at Walmart reach something on the top shelf.

    There is a pop country song on the radio these days called "Like My Mother Does". It makes me think of you.

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  2. Thank you, my little GRIT!

    Thank you.

    "I will so no longer." That's beautiful.

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