Life or Death for a Puppy
Donation protected
When the wheel of the truck began to crush my baby-dog, I don't know if I screamed. This haunts me now. Maybe if I was loud enough, fast enough, the driver could have stopped in time. I think I just kindof gasped instead, stared for nanoseconds that rolled on in slow motion, then I squatted and hid my face. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't look. By the time I definitely started screaming, the puppy was screaming also. The driver ran out of the truck. I just heard him cursing, and those wails, those terrible, terrible wails of agony from the puppy I had just been playing with minutes ago. Then the wails stopped for a minute. "Is he dead?! I can't look!!! Is he dead?!"
"He's not dead, he's not dead, shit, oh fuck! I'm taking him to the vet!"
I looked up just long enough to see the pup trying to crawl away, his hind legs dragging on the ground.
The whole thing lasted only minutes. Then they were gone in a cloud of dust.
My toddler daughter watched it all from the window. "Woof-woof??" she said, pointing towards the driveway when I walked back into the house, swaying. And then, because I was crying, she started crying too.
That moment when I hid my face, like I would during a horror movie, hoping it would all go away if only I wasn't looking - I imagined the dog's gutts would be all over the driveway. I imagined his spine must be snapped in half and he only had minutes to live. The truth turned out a bit more hopeful: the spine and organs are all intact, but the hip bone is broken in two places, and a leg is broken as well. He could live with that.
The thing is, the surgery required to try and fix this will cost us $10,000, AND there is no guarantee that it will be successful. But the only other option is for us to go ahead and kill the otherwise young, healthy puppy.
The "driver" in the story is my husband. This is why his auto insurance won't help us - because it's "our" dog. There is no way he could have seen the pup sneak right up to his wheels just as he was about to take off, but he blames himself for it all anyway. All the way to the vet, and the whole time there he was literally shaking.
The puppy's name is Brutus (Brute). He is a good boy. All he wanted his whole life was to run around, nibble at things and to be close to his humans. He deseves a treat. He deserves to live.
We're going ahead with the surgery now, and worrying about the money later. But this "later" will come. Please help.
"He's not dead, he's not dead, shit, oh fuck! I'm taking him to the vet!"
I looked up just long enough to see the pup trying to crawl away, his hind legs dragging on the ground.
The whole thing lasted only minutes. Then they were gone in a cloud of dust.
My toddler daughter watched it all from the window. "Woof-woof??" she said, pointing towards the driveway when I walked back into the house, swaying. And then, because I was crying, she started crying too.
That moment when I hid my face, like I would during a horror movie, hoping it would all go away if only I wasn't looking - I imagined the dog's gutts would be all over the driveway. I imagined his spine must be snapped in half and he only had minutes to live. The truth turned out a bit more hopeful: the spine and organs are all intact, but the hip bone is broken in two places, and a leg is broken as well. He could live with that.
The thing is, the surgery required to try and fix this will cost us $10,000, AND there is no guarantee that it will be successful. But the only other option is for us to go ahead and kill the otherwise young, healthy puppy.
The "driver" in the story is my husband. This is why his auto insurance won't help us - because it's "our" dog. There is no way he could have seen the pup sneak right up to his wheels just as he was about to take off, but he blames himself for it all anyway. All the way to the vet, and the whole time there he was literally shaking.
The puppy's name is Brutus (Brute). He is a good boy. All he wanted his whole life was to run around, nibble at things and to be close to his humans. He deseves a treat. He deserves to live.
We're going ahead with the surgery now, and worrying about the money later. But this "later" will come. Please help.
Organizer
Anna Labelle
Organizer
Cornwall, ON
