No Name Dog
I watched Ken, a young man walking with a three legged Dalmatian dog. Ken walked faster than the dog, then would wait impatiently for it to catch up. At one point the dog stopped and hung his head. Ken walked back, picked up the dog and started to walk with his heavy burden. I called out of my van window, offering a ride. I pulled over, slid open the side door, yanked out my emergency dog blankets and made a soft bed. Ken placed the dog on the blankets. I wondered why he didn't say a few words to the dog, or give it a pat or two. On the ride to his home, Ken told me the story behind the dog.
He is a hiker and had wanted to go on a long walk through an area that eventually led to a river. It took several hours before he reached it. He sat on a huge pile of debris, rolled onto the shore from last year's high water. As soon as he sat down he heard a loud whimper. He looked under the pile and spotted the dog. The dog barked joyously at seeing Ken's face. One of his back legs was stuck in between two logs that had rolled, pinning the dog to the spot. Ken managed to pull the dog out, each small tug made the dog cry out with pain, but he never once attempted to bite.
Ken carried the exhausted dog in his arms, back out to the main road where they were picked up. They drove straight to the vet's. The doctor shook his head, there was no way to save the smashed leg, he said the dog might not even make it through the operation. Ken was asked if he was paying the bill for the dog? At this point, Ken told me he just wanted to walk away. He had worked hard to save up enough money for a second hand truck. The vet bill would wipe that out.
He decided he couldn't spend the money on a dog he didn't want or need. The Dalmatian would be put down. The vet left to get the needle that would end the dog's life. The animal lay on the table, he looked into the eyes of the man who had carried him for miles. Reaching out a trembling paw, he placed it gently on Ken's hand. On the spur of the moment, Ken decided to use his savings to save the dog.
The operation went well, but the dog didn't recover as planned. Infection set in, requiring more work and medication. By this time Ken's savings and hopes for a truck were long gone. He was now facing an extra bill as the dog was not getting better. He could walk well on his three legs, however his spirit seemed to have been broken.
When I picked them up, Ken's face was hard with anger. I asked him if he was mad because he wanted that truck, now as the owner of a dog it, was costing him dearly? He admitted he was fed up with the dog. He wanted it to get better so he could get rid of it. He had found no one wanted a three legged dog. He hadn't even named the dog.
I pulled my van right over, and stopped. Ken looked at me and I couldn't help but cry. "Don't you see?" I asked. "That dog needs more than medicine, or your money spent on him, he need love, he needs for you to want him, for you to be truly happy that he is in your life." I drove the van back onto the road. "Ken, for crying out loud, you haven't even given the dog a name!" Perhaps it wasn't my place to say anything. Ken sat deep in thought for the remainder of the drive to his home.
When I pulled into his driveway Ken helped the dog out. I watched as he knelt down, took the dogs head in his hands, and in a voice thick with tears he said, "I'm sorry old boy, I just wasn't thinking how 'you' felt." The dog's tail began to wag slowly. "Let's start over, okay Buster?" He pulled the dog to him for a hug. "I guess we better get you feeling good about life so we can go on short hikes together." Ken smiled at me, "I think he just got named."
When I drove away Ken never noticed. He was too busy with Buster. That dog was whipping the air with his wagging tail and washing Ken's face, giving him doggie kisses. The promise of love and a life time commitment. I had a good feeling that Ken and Buster had jsut started down a wonderful road of friendship. Both were winners!
