Pono: Rescuing an Abandoned Dog, a guest post by Toby Neal
My daughter found a neglected 6 pound scrap of elderly
Pomeranian wandering outside our neighborhood in the dead of night. He was not
appealing: his collar had to be cut out of (color indeterminate) matted
dreadlocks, his toenails were so long they looked like curling Indian slippers,
and something was VERY wrong with his hind legs so that he listed and bobbled
like a sailor under the influence.
I was smitten. Utterly lost. The Hubby too, though he made gruff manly noises
about it.
We did the right thing and after a disruptive night (with our other dogs
freaking out) we took him to the Humane Society. The first thing they did was
shave him so he looked like a concentration camp victim, leaving a bit of fluff
around his head like a tiny lion, or perhaps a hermit crab unfortunately
removed from its shell. He was examined, medicated, neutered and doctored, and
after a week (during which the neglectful owners never called) they pronounced
him read to adopt.
That’s how we got a third dog. Yes, I know, I need my head examined, and me a
shrink.
I had to sign a hefty waiver that acknowledged I knew he had a heart condition
(due to unkept teeth that had rotted and affected his heart), was missing a
half-dozen aforementioned teeth, and had, due to inbreeding, spontaneously
collapsing knees.
“Spontaneous what?” I asked.
“Spontaneously dislocating knees. Because of inbreeding, this type of dog often
develops them. There is no cure.” The vet looked worried I was going to renege
on my adoption after the litany of problems and produced the waiver. “You have
been informed.”
I signed. I brought home my new project, and named him Pono, which means “do
the right thing” and also Pono is Lei’s trusty partner in my novels, a two-fer.
(I love two-fers, and I’ll have to blog about that sometime.)
Why did I do such a ridiculous thing, with the hours I work and two other dogs?
Because. Just because. Maybe I’m atoning for something- people who would breed
a dog until it’s nearly unable to survive to get “desirable” traits. Atoning
for people who would spend money on a dog like this and then neglect it to within
an inch of its life.
Mostly, though, I adopted him because he grabbed onto my heart with his tiny,
mostly missing teeth and wouldn’t let go. Because in spite of his handicaps, he
frolics with joy until he falls over from his collapsible joints. His fragile
heart is brave, and he sits calmly on my lap for hours while I write, wheezing
in utter happiness to be there. He’s the perverted result of man’s manipulations,
and utterly, totally, gruesomely adorable.
Now that the kids have grown up and left, the “empty nest” has been filled with
ankle snappers. Be warned, it could happen to you.
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In : Guest Posts
Tags: dogs rescue animals pets help
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