In 2013, Renee and her family found a stray dog in terrible condition. One look at the dog, and it was clear it had been so badly neglected that it was barely recognizable as a living creature. What unfolded next completely touched my heart — by the end, I was a mess of tears, in the best way possible.
Here's Renee's story:
“Renee, another stray dog’s turned up!” called the hotel owner, Jan, just as Mark, Scout and I were settling in for the night. “Tom’s got him over by the restaurant.”
Grabbing a flashlight and a leash, Scout and I ran out the door. Nearby we found Tom, Jan’s husband, trying to coax a black dog out of the shadows. We couldn’t see it clearly, but the pup was matted, filthy and terrified. Between us, Tom and I managed to pull her out (she didn’t bite) and slip the leash around her neck. Meanwhile Tom told us what he knew about her. He’d seen what looked like a garbage bag in a ditch at the bottom of the driveway. When he’d shined his headlights on it, it moved and then bolted up the driveway and on to the property. How the dog wasn’t killed on the fast-traffic road, I don’t know.
Because the hotel is up in the hills, the owners here are deluged with stray dogs, some lost, others dumped. So Scout and I volunteered to deal with the poor thing, and we led the dog back to our bungalow. Clearly a pet at one time, the little dog trotted obediently on the leash.
When we all got back to the bunglaw, here’s what we found.
The pup had obviously been on her own for weeks. Her matted hair clumped together in big dreadlocks, and her face was encased by hard shell of hair and burrs. She was missing a leg. Her eyes were covered in film.
A gentle thing, she seemed to recognize she’d found safe harbour. She gobbled down two bowls of the kibble we offered her, and guzzled a bowl and a half of water.
Afterward she stood patiently as we cut the hair clumps from her back. It was no use though. After 45 minutes, Scout and I gave up. the dirty hair was too dense and matted to cut. We’d need to have a vet shave her.
We held the poor baby for a while, and then tucked her into a pile of blankets on the screened porch. Exhausted, she collapsed and passed out.
The next morning when the sun came out, I came out for a better look. Here’s what I found.
The dog stank horribly. Her skin was an ocean of worms and bugs. Gagging, I made a half-hearted attempt to cut away more of the fur, but I couldn’t get in there with scissors. Her eyes were so filmy, I wondered if she was blind.
She needed help urgently, but it was a Sunday. No vets are open on Sunday here. Honestly, as much empathy and compassion I had for this lost soul, I wondered how I could bear to look at her all day.
But then, a minor miracle! Another Google search revealed that a new vet office was opening up and their grand opening was….TODAY. On a SUNDAY. And all grooming and de-worming treatments were half off. Oh my.
We borrowed Tom’s beater truck to take the pup to the vet (five minutes down the road). We didn’t wants all her worms and bugs getting into our car. I wasn’t expecting the vet to even be there…it sounded too good to be true. But it was there, it was open, no other patients were there, and the sweet veterinarian could focus our pathetic little patient.
Vet office, ajijic, Mexico
We filled out some forms and left. On the line for the patient’s name, we wrote “Sophie.”
Two hours later, the vet called. We could pick up the dog. She was fine, though she had “issues.” I wondered if she would need to be put to sleep. We jumped in the car and headed to the vet’s. Here’s what we found.
Sophie, it turns out, isn’t missing a leg. But her leg was injured so she’d been holding it up, and then the fur had grown around it. Her body was covered with sores and lesions. The vet had had to make several incisions to clean out infected parts. She had mange on her skin and in her eyes. She’d lost so much weight, her skin sagged. Her issues, it tuned out, were all treatable.
The vet estimated that poor little Sophie had been stray for EIGHT MONTHS.
So, armed with a bag of de-worming pills, we took her home. After a rousing family discussion, we decided to foster Sophie. Scout & I voted YES; Mark & Archie voted NO. Mark relented, but Archie’s still being kind of a dick about it. We’ll fatten her up, get her healthy, train her, and then see what’s what.
Sophie is Scout’s project, and the kid’s doing great job, taking her on hourly potty training walks and spending her meagre savings on dog dresses. Archie’s not thrilled with another dog sharing his space, but I’m working on him. He’s still my baby. 🙂
Merry Christmas, everyone. We wish you a happy holiday season and adventure-filled 2014.
Love,
Renee, Mark, Scout, Archie, and Sophie!
