Yesterday I woke up and discovered that my friend Sally had had a stroke. Her eyes were moving from right to left erratically and her back legs were useless. Sally, was thirteen years old. I got her from the Animal Control center on 110th and first avenue in Manhattan when she was around eight years old. She'd been abandoned by a family due to "allergies" (yeah right)! and during her stay at the pound had starved herself into a bag of bones. I remember that I could count every vertebrae on her back. She was starved and depressed and her eyes had a blank look. Sally had lost her will to live.
Over a couple of months my husband and I nursed her back to health only to find she was a wild untrained child that we had to train to walk on a leash. Slowly, Sally worked her way into our hearts, she got along with her little brother Henry and the three cats like she'd always been part of the family.
She also had a talent for opening the refrigerator and helping herself. I often came home to an open fridge and no food. There was Sally squiggling on her back, "I know I did wrong, don't punish me", and I never could. I learned not to leave cold cuts on the lower shelves and to hide the cheese. I didn't care about that... Sally was the first creature that made me feel safe. Sally was a guard dog with a big heart.
The morning Sally had her stroke I called a local vet to ask what it would cost me to put my best friend down. They said they'd call me back and did so after and hour. Can you imagine they made me wait for an hour?
The girl on the phone told me it would be three hundred and fifty five dollars. I knew these NYC vets were extreme but this was ridiculous. She then called me back a half hour later and announced that she got the price wrong it was five-hundred and fifty five dollars due to Sally's size. I hung up the phone, satisfied that all the vet nightmare stories I'd heard from friend were true. They were going to hit me while I was down but I had other plans. I called the ASPCA and for a third the price I was able to take Sally by pet taxi over to the facility. It was a wonderful experience, the nurses patted and talked to Sally and she wagged her tail. Sally. was ready to go and I got the sense that she understood. Her body hadn't been cooperating for a while and although she 'd hang on to the death if I asked her too... I didn't have the heart to ask.
I love you Sally , my guardian friend. May god bless you may your spirit burn bright. Thank you my dog dog thank you.
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