(Note: I am forgoing my usual marketing rants, ramblings, musings or whatever you would like to call them for this one blog to tell a dog story. If you are not an animal lover, you may want to skip this one).
A few months ago, the big controversy in Southern California was not about healthcare reform or the state’s financial problems - no, it was about the Los Angeles Fire Department dangling one off their brave firefighters from a helicopter to rescue a dog trapped in the Los Angeles River. For those of you not familiar with the LA River, it’s more like a stream that actually reminds me of the small “gutters” that ran down the middle of our alleyways in Chicago that carried the melting snow away in winter, and in summer, the water we used to clean our cars with. However, on the rare occasion it rains in sunny California, the river can become quite treacherous as fast rushing rainwater races to the sea. The public was pretty divided over this rescue that dominated the local media for days on end - one side thought it was so brave of the fireman to risk his life to save the dog, not only hanging above the rapids but also because the frightened dog bit him (he even received several marriage proposals - dogs lovers unite!). The other side predictably thought it was a colossal waste of taxpayer funds, particularly in a state that is near bankrupt. The latter obviously were not pet owners, for if they were, they would have cherished that poor dog like a member of their family - just like I do with my Abbey Rose.
Abbey is a pure bred “Aussie” who is just shy of her 8th birthday. Before we adopted her, my wife Bettina said that if we ever wanted a dog we should try to get one of the offspring of the legendary Max, who my wife thought was not only the smartest dog on Catalina Island when she lived there, but one of the smartest dogs she had ever seen. That was good enough for me and when Max finally got around to siring a litter - we were there – unfortunately behind everyone else from the island. When we arrived at the breeders, Abbey was the last one left and she was obviously the runt of the litter. Although she ended up half the size of her dad, a gentler, devoted and
more beautiful companion we couldn’t have asked for; and yes, very smart. When she was just a puppy, she got out of the house and like most dogs, decided to explore the neighborhood. I drove round and round to all the places she might have gone – the park, my stepson’s school, friends homes, etc. When I exhausted my possibilities I dejectedly came home and lo and behold, there she was patiently waiting for me on our front porch. That was the last time she ran away.
And Abbey almost never barks, even when my mom’s feisty little Chihuahua Alfie tries to instigate a tussle by leaping out of a hiding place to jump on her. That is, as I found out, unless she is threatened. I found out how tough the girl was when she was attacked by two large dogs, the neighbor bullies - a giant Poodle (don’t laugh, it’s vicious) and a Dalmatian. The only dog that ever bit me in an angry attack when I was young was a Dalmatian so I was always leery of this one when I saw the dog being walked with the Poodle. Each time they approached Abbey on her walk, their owner was barley able to contain them. I was usually able to keep her out of harm’s way until
one day when they pounced on her while Bettina and I were working out in our community gym and Abbey was patiently waiting outside for the remainder of her morning run. I never saw Abbey become so aggressive but I figured she thought she was fighting for her life and instincts took over. The other dogs were pulled off her and by the time my wife and I got to her she had a bloody nose and looking at me as if to say, “You think I look bad, should have seen the other two!” That was the last time we brought her to the gym. But nothing could prepare us for the scare of a lifetime.
Last week, my wife and stepson Kjell took Abbey for a run in a remote part of the Cleveland National Forest near where we live. My wife rounded a corner on her bike and caught glimpse of a large rattlesnake sunning itself on the path just in time to raise her legs to avoid being bitten. Abbey was chasing behind in full throttle and as the snake coiled, Abbey went to sniff the intruder but my wife called her back. When I got home, my wife retold the story saying that we were so lucky Abbey wasn’t bitten, but we noticed she was just feebly standing still and wouldn’t even come when I called her. At first, we thought she was just worn out but my wife began to get concerned and examined her and noticed a cut on her leg. Not taking any chances, she rushed Abbey to the emergency animal hospital in the nick of time, because Abbey was bitten and the deadly venom was racing through her veins. She had to be monitored all night so she wouldn’t go into cardiac arrest as they pumped her with anti-venom. We couldn’t sleep most of that night, fearing the worst, but hoping for the best. I did doze off in just before sunrise and normally when the automatic coffeemaker goes off; Abbey is always there to gently wake me by stroking my arm with her paw. I always rub her belly as a reward and that’s been my wake-up call for the best part of seven years. But that morning I realized Abbey wasn’t there and still in the hospital. Just then, my wife came in and said that she had just spoken to the hospital and Abbey looked like she would pull through. That was mainly because when Abbey had her teeth cleaned a month ago, the doctor said that she was due for her rattlesnake booster shot in June, but since she was already there, we could have it done at the same time as the teeth cleaning, mainly for he sake of convenience. I knew nothing about rattlesnake boosters for dogs, but Bettina did and so she agreed. Who would have though that simple suggestion would eventually save Abbey’s life?
Coda: Abbey’s recovery was slow but each day we could see the progress as the evil black venom visible under her skin where she was shaved began to recede and she became more active. After five days, I was pleasantly awakened by her gentle pawing to announce the coffee was ready and I should get my lazy butt out of bed. At that very moment, I realized I couldn’t imagine life without her.
