Dogs have always been a part of my life. In my six and a half decades, I can count in months the times I have been without one.
This is the story of our girl Meeghan...
We went into the pet
shop to look...just look.
Our beloved Yorkshire Terrier had died
just three weeks previously, and a large
piece of my heart had died along with Angel. I knew I could
not bear to go through that pain again...I was done with dogs.
Angel
The shop was bursting with
puppies that day – chubby, fluffy wee
dogs that did their bouncing best to get our attention. I barely glanced at
them. Lost in thoughts of Angel, I was numb to the possibility of beginning
again.
Turning to leave, we spied
a scruffy black bundle cowered silently against the window while a much larger
pup bounded on and around her. I caught her timid glance and felt something
stir in me despite myself. Michael asked
them to bring her out, and once the shaky wee soul was in my arms, I was lost.
The shopkeeper explained that this little one had been rescued from a puppy
mill. As the ragged body pushed into me fearfully, he described the first three
months of her life spent caged, unloved and filthy from lying in her own dirt.
She was severely underfed, weighing only four pounds. I could feel every rib,
every notch on her backbone...
There was no considered decision to say yes or no; of course we could not leave her there. It was clear that she needed us. Even clearer to me, was the truth that we needed her.
Because it was St. Patrick's Day, we named our new girl Meeghan. Matted, dull-eyed and underfed, she was traumatized and fearful of everything.
As it turned out, I did
not have to wait long for the pain I'd been trying to avoid. On the complimentary
vet check provided, Meeghan was quickly diagnosed with a heart murmur...she had
congenital heart disease that would prove fatal. The vet calmly suggested that
we return her for a refund as she would almost certainly die in a matter of months, if not weeks. It went
without saying that since she couldn't be sold again, she would be euthanized,
but not to worry, he went on...there were lots of cute and healthy dogs to
choose from.
Meeghan had been mine for two days and it was all the time we needed to bond. I was the first person to hold her. She trusted me from the start and I cherished her in return. There was no way I would give up on this little dog who'd never had a real chance at life.
We immediately took her to
our own vet, hoping for a miracle. He confirmed the diagnosis of Patent Ductus
Arteriosus or PDA.
In humans and animals, a
miniscule blood vessel that supplies oxygen to the lungs in utero should close at
birth when the lungs fill with air. When it does not, the result is PDA, a condition
that overworks the heart, fills the lungs with fluid and leads to congestive
heart failure.
With Meeghan, her weakness
and shortness of breath were all too obvious. She curled up beside my head on
the pillow for safety and I lay every night with the sound of her speeding
heart thrumming in my ear.
Our gentle vet offered two
options: we could shower Meeghan with love
and attention...make her life joyous for the short time left before her heart
gave out on her. Alternately, he could do open-heart surgery to try to close an
incredibly small valve in a risky operation he'd done only twice before. The
surgery would cost several thousand dollars and the chances were good she would
not survive.
Neither my husband nor I
hesitated for a moment. We had no idea how we could come up with the money, but
we could either watch Meeghan suffer through a painful illness and die before
she'd really lived...or put our faith in a doctor whose skill and compassion has been well proven. We simply had to give her
a chance.
The details aren't
important,
though it must be mentioned
that this wonderful
veterinarian ended up
charging us only a
nominal fee for this
complicated surgery.
What matters most is that
she
survived the
risky procedure and
ultimately flourished.
Four years later, she
is a bouncy,
spirited dog who loves her life
and wrings joy out
of every day!
She remains a scruffy girl in
spite of constant grooming.
As the runt of a Schnoodle litter,
she can enter no conformation
shows. Nor can we try
for obedience or agility trials...our
lackluster training skills being
more to blame for a lack in
that area than her obvious,
innate cleverness.
No matter...we need
no certificate
to know she's beautiful
inside and out.
Meeghan is still
hand-shy
-she was clearly mistreated-
...is
timid with strangers and rarely leaves my side. Her eyes search my face often
in a day as if to reassure herself I'm still there. While she loves the rest of
the family, there is no question she is my girl...we adore each other
unreservedly.
Yes, my heart may be
broken again one day, but I will always cherish this small saviour who helped lift me from the depths of despair when it seemed an impossibility...a precious
companion who enriches my life immeasurably each day by her sweet and simple
presence.
I am linking up to the wonderful ABC Wednesday. For a real treat, stop by to see more stories and pics from around the world...
I will be away the week this is posted, but will get back to everyone as soon as I can...
