Skinny, mangy with big feet, Lola,
the soon to come in heat German Sheppard won us over the first time she cocked
her head, when I spoke to her, following instructions sealed the deal. In the
evening I walk around the house with the puppies, Lucky and Robert Redford, to
get them to potty before going in the bath room for the night. On these
excursions I’d admire Lola’s clean trot, but her feet were so big they looked
like paddlewheels. Blood oozed from her legs at the pastern/ankle joint in
front and hock/foot in the rear. Her feet looked swollen. I attributed it to
the mange. She must have been confined to a very small area; she poops and pees
right where she stands. Her nails would make Freddy Krueger jealous. A three
inch wide collar wore into her neck creating a smelly ulcer.
Three weeks into treatment her hair
is coming back. Puppy bucking during a happiness spasm makes her look like a
basketball player after winning a big game. She’s old school German Shep in
conformation, coloring and temperament, steady, easy to train. So far I’ve seen
little of possible head trips from her former life, which amazes me given what
I’m about to tell you.
This morning, while I made
breakfast, Kirt, my husband sat in his wheel chair staring at Lola. “What do
you see?” I asked as I handed him coffee. “This dog has had her feet bound,”
was his startling reply.
The new hair growth pronounced the
marks across her feet where rope or wire held her tightly enough to leave deep indentations
more than three weeks later. I can’t even speculate how long she could have
been tied. Under what circumstances do you hog tie a dog? Who does something
like this? Does a person feel so sorry for themselves that they spare no
empathy for another being? I’m sick to my stomach that this marvelous animal
would have been handled like that, and then thrown out. I’m glad they tossed
her out rather than continue this torturous treatment.
Kirt and I sat on the porch
examining the ligature marks. We don’t do poor baby. We’re rather matter of
fact about things, so it surprised me to see that the other dogs were aware of
our change in attitude or perception about Lola. Chi-Ping did a double take
looking from me to Lola and back to me. Lola, who was lying down got a
surprised look on her face, when Chi walked over to her wagging her tail. Chi
gave her a lick on the face and walked into the house with me tail still wagging.
An hour before Chi-Ping snapped at Lola until she dropped to her belly. That’s
how they usually get along.
This gruesome bit of news needed to
come from me and not my darling Chi-Ping or Chi-Pi as Lucky likes to call her.
Thanks for reading, Tricia
