The "Tail" of 2 Broken Legs...

My story begins 7 years ago...

Back in 2018, I had a fall and broke my left leg—my tibia and fibula in a spiral fracture down to the ankle joint. Unfortunately, the initial surgery was flawed; the bones were not placed correctly at my ankle joint. As a result, a year later I had severe loss of cartilage with bone-on-bone in that joint, making it extremely painful to do any activity that included being on my feet.

In order to fix the damage that had been done, they had to remove the hardware, re-break both bones, and reset them correctly at my ankle joint. I was devastated to have to go through that surgery and recovery again. Weeks of non-weight-bearing and long-term physical therapy were required for recovery.

I was used to an active lifestyle before my injury and surgeries. Being a mother to six children and involved in our community—church, PTO President, and busy with my children's sports and activities—didn’t allow for much downtime. I struggled to accept my new reality, where I had limitations due to physical abilities.

During this time, my friend posted a picture of the most adorable puppy I'd ever seen. I knew I needed one like it in my life, as I felt such a strong longing for a companion to be with me as I spent much more time off my feet than on them. I was able to get an adorable little puppy who became my "Comfort Companion" and helped me be okay with my new reality. He and I were inseparable, and he helped me through my many setbacks and the COVID shutdown.

After a while, I ended up going through a divorce, and my ex-husband and I agreed that, with how hard the adjustment would be for our children, it would be best if my dog stayed with them. So, as much as I selfishly wanted to keep him with me, I knew it was the best decision. He went back and forth with the children, so I got to see him when my kids were with me. It worked out well, and I was happy my kids had him all the time.

I still don’t know why or what I did (I’ve asked many times) to cause my ex to decide to keep the dog away from me, but after a while he quit letting my puppy visit with the kids. It truly broke my heart, and I have missed him every day since.

Over time, chronic issues with my compromised ankle led to the decision to get an ankle fusion. My left tibia and fibula are now completely fused to my ankle, so my leg and foot are in a permanent 90-degree angle. The fusion cured the pain caused by the osteoarthritis but has led to other chronic pain and issues that I manage. I have weekly massage therapy and frequent, ongoing physical therapy to help me maintain a healthy existence. I have accepted that my dog is no longer mine—he will forever be the most special pet I've ever had who helped me get through my toughest times.

Now, to bring this all to the present moment, I find myself sitting here with my right leg elevated in a splint with ice packs helping alleviate my pain...

A week ago, during a fun weekend away, I crashed my off-road scooter when I hit gravel as I was making a turn. My automatic reflexes kicked in as I started to lose control, and I put my right leg out to try to catch myself, even though, logically, the scooter was way too powerful for my body to contend with. I ended up crashing down to the right and breaking my leg in two places as a result.

I was taken by ambulance to the hospital, screaming and crying in denial that this was not happening. Not again! I had to have surgery on the tibia, which had a spiral fracture down to the ankle joint, but my fibula break was left alone to self-heal since it ended up being high on the bone. I spent four days in the hospital, and after being home for the past few days, all I can think of is my puppy...

How he helped me so much, in more ways than anyone can imagine. There aren’t words for the comfort he brought me. I was able to see him briefly a month ago when my ex was moving (the first time in several years), and he squealed, jumped, and twirled, refusing to let me put him down! It was so incredibly special to get that moment with him. It was hard to say goodbye.

As I was scrolling Facebook, I came across a picture of an adorable puppy that my friend—the breeder I got my puppy from, who I've remained in touch with ever since and consider a friend—posted. I inquired about the puppy but wasn’t able to get it. She sent me a picture of its brother, and I fell in love! He will only get to be about 5–7 lbs., and he’ll be ready to come home in mid-September, which is when my birthday falls.

I can't explain the need to have this puppy in my life or the effects it will have on my heart and mentality as I heal and recover, but I feel like knowing he's coming to me soon is the lifeline I'm clinging onto right now. I know I have massive medical bills on the way, so it's not a practical decision to buy a dog at the moment; however, I'm determined to make any sacrifice necessary to have him in my life and on my lap, warming my heart and soul. (That sounds cheesy, I know! guilty)

I'm asking that if anyone feels they would love to help me in any way during this challenging time, please donate toward helping me get my puppy. I am already grateful for any contribution, and I will happily love him and keep you updated with lots of photos on Facebook. Thank you in advance, knowing I appreciate the support beyond measure!