Oxley's Emergency Vet Fund
Donation protected
We have reached our goal! Thank you to everyone who donated, shared, and supported Oxley's fund. Your generosity has made a remarkable difference to my family. I hope to post an update in the new year with pictures of a newly adopted rescue puppy.
On the morning of November 9th, my elderly parents called me to say that their 6-year-old dog Oxley was missing. It had been a windy night, the gate had blown open, and after being let out to pee, Oxley had gotten out of the yard and they could not find him. As we frantically started printing Lost Dog signs, they got a call from an emergency veterinary office. A technician who worked there had found Oxley by the side of the road in the night. He had been hit by a car and was badly injured, in extreme pain, and unable to move his back legs.
My parents rushed to Oklahoma Veterinary Specialists, where he was given a CT scan to try to assess the damage. And while the vets tried their best to save him over the next day and a half, the damage was so extensive that they believed Oxley would most likely not walk again, perhaps remaining in pain for life, and my parents had to make the horrible decision to let him go.
The cost of trying to save Oxley’s life was just under $3,800 in total.
The true and most devastating price of this horrible event is losing Oxley, who was their beloved family member and should have had many years of life left.
Unfortunately, there is another price, too. The financial cost of trying to save him was high—too high for my parents to really be able to afford.
This is a huge financial blow to my parents. My mother, Helen Beth, is a retired Pre-Kindergarten teacher who focused her classroom teaching on science and nature for young children. My father, Johnie, is a former attorney and a poet, but was forced to retire early due to disability. They care for my 35-year-old brother, Ian, who is permanently disabled from traumatic brain injury after being shot in the head 13 years ago.
Though they are some of the most fiscally responsible people I know, the payments will be a serious financial burden for them.
All of our family dogs have been rescue dogs, and Oxley is no exception. In 2017, he was dumped at a local nature preserve, Oxley Nature Center, where my mother volunteers. He spent several days following families around, hoping for pets and attention. My parents had recently lost their last dog to old age, and when they saw Oxley it was quite literally love at first sight. They named him after the nature center, as that was the place that had brought them together, and took him home that afternoon.
In addition to being a beloved family member for my parents and brother, he was very important to their physical and mental health. My father was hospitalized twice this summer with pneumonia. We were unable to visit him because of the pandemic, which was very hard, but getting pictures of Oxley and knowing he was waiting for him to come home lifted his spirits considerably. My brother, who has traumatic brain injury and seizures, walked Oxley around the neighborhood with my parents at least twice a day as part of his own physical therapy.
Oxley was a silly, sweet, amazing dog. He loved to sit outside for hours watching the squirrels in the yard while my mother gardened, but his favorite place to sleep was on the bed next to my dad as he read. He was extremely chill, but he also expected several walks each day and would let you know in no uncertain terms when he was ready to go. He wagged his whole body when he got pets and scritches, his tail whirling like a windmill.
Oxley brought so much good to my parents' and brother's lives, and while he could not be saved, you have a chance to make a very real difference to the people who loved this big guy so much. To lose him is so hard; to lose him and have to worry about being able to pay for the cost of trying to save him is its own kind of terrible.
It would mean so much to us if you could pitch in to help cover the costs they incurred. Even $5 would help so much.
I know this year has been so hard on everyone. But Oxley was a bright spot for us, and seeing him in pain was heartbreaking, and his loss is devastating. Dogs are so good! He would be so grateful if he knew that his family was being taken care of even though he is gone.
Below are images of the receipts from Oklahoma Veterinary Specialists showing the payments made by my parents for Oxley's care.
He was lucky to be found so quickly, by people who wanted to help him, and we are lucky to have you to help. Thank you for reading, for donating if you can, and for sharing to spread his story.
As a last note, I share a poem that my father wrote upon the death of one of our previous family dogs, which I hope will resonate with you as you think about any animals who you have loved.
A Little of Your Place
How the dead, buried in the present, hold
the living is remembered in a dog
fetching home the dusk, running to me
like despair. I come to it without you,
bound by no darkness but my own age, old
chain of days and letters, victories not
remembered, even your name fades at last.
The winter plows grief back into the ground,
the bones, stark above the snow, whisper dry.
A little of your voice comes back.
Loss remains a brighter star than night
can hold.
On the morning of November 9th, my elderly parents called me to say that their 6-year-old dog Oxley was missing. It had been a windy night, the gate had blown open, and after being let out to pee, Oxley had gotten out of the yard and they could not find him. As we frantically started printing Lost Dog signs, they got a call from an emergency veterinary office. A technician who worked there had found Oxley by the side of the road in the night. He had been hit by a car and was badly injured, in extreme pain, and unable to move his back legs.
My parents rushed to Oklahoma Veterinary Specialists, where he was given a CT scan to try to assess the damage. And while the vets tried their best to save him over the next day and a half, the damage was so extensive that they believed Oxley would most likely not walk again, perhaps remaining in pain for life, and my parents had to make the horrible decision to let him go.
The cost of trying to save Oxley’s life was just under $3,800 in total.
The true and most devastating price of this horrible event is losing Oxley, who was their beloved family member and should have had many years of life left.
Unfortunately, there is another price, too. The financial cost of trying to save him was high—too high for my parents to really be able to afford.
This is a huge financial blow to my parents. My mother, Helen Beth, is a retired Pre-Kindergarten teacher who focused her classroom teaching on science and nature for young children. My father, Johnie, is a former attorney and a poet, but was forced to retire early due to disability. They care for my 35-year-old brother, Ian, who is permanently disabled from traumatic brain injury after being shot in the head 13 years ago.
Though they are some of the most fiscally responsible people I know, the payments will be a serious financial burden for them.
All of our family dogs have been rescue dogs, and Oxley is no exception. In 2017, he was dumped at a local nature preserve, Oxley Nature Center, where my mother volunteers. He spent several days following families around, hoping for pets and attention. My parents had recently lost their last dog to old age, and when they saw Oxley it was quite literally love at first sight. They named him after the nature center, as that was the place that had brought them together, and took him home that afternoon.
In addition to being a beloved family member for my parents and brother, he was very important to their physical and mental health. My father was hospitalized twice this summer with pneumonia. We were unable to visit him because of the pandemic, which was very hard, but getting pictures of Oxley and knowing he was waiting for him to come home lifted his spirits considerably. My brother, who has traumatic brain injury and seizures, walked Oxley around the neighborhood with my parents at least twice a day as part of his own physical therapy.
Oxley was a silly, sweet, amazing dog. He loved to sit outside for hours watching the squirrels in the yard while my mother gardened, but his favorite place to sleep was on the bed next to my dad as he read. He was extremely chill, but he also expected several walks each day and would let you know in no uncertain terms when he was ready to go. He wagged his whole body when he got pets and scritches, his tail whirling like a windmill.
Oxley brought so much good to my parents' and brother's lives, and while he could not be saved, you have a chance to make a very real difference to the people who loved this big guy so much. To lose him is so hard; to lose him and have to worry about being able to pay for the cost of trying to save him is its own kind of terrible.
It would mean so much to us if you could pitch in to help cover the costs they incurred. Even $5 would help so much.
I know this year has been so hard on everyone. But Oxley was a bright spot for us, and seeing him in pain was heartbreaking, and his loss is devastating. Dogs are so good! He would be so grateful if he knew that his family was being taken care of even though he is gone.
Below are images of the receipts from Oklahoma Veterinary Specialists showing the payments made by my parents for Oxley's care.
He was lucky to be found so quickly, by people who wanted to help him, and we are lucky to have you to help. Thank you for reading, for donating if you can, and for sharing to spread his story.
As a last note, I share a poem that my father wrote upon the death of one of our previous family dogs, which I hope will resonate with you as you think about any animals who you have loved.
A Little of Your Place
How the dead, buried in the present, hold
the living is remembered in a dog
fetching home the dusk, running to me
like despair. I come to it without you,
bound by no darkness but my own age, old
chain of days and letters, victories not
remembered, even your name fades at last.
The winter plows grief back into the ground,
the bones, stark above the snow, whisper dry.
A little of your voice comes back.
Loss remains a brighter star than night
can hold.
Organizer
Eilis O'Neal
Organizer
Tulsa, OK