Posted on August 17, 2011 by: WayCoolDogs

You’d think if you were driving a car it would be hard not to see a very large german shepherd in the road. Maybe whoever hit Boysie did it deliberately – we will never know – but he was brought in by a kind taxi driver who saw that he was badly injured and not able to move. He was a pathetic sight lying in the cage, trying so hard but not able to get his back legs working.

But Boysie turned out to have a tremendous will to live.  There were some who wanted him put down right away but thankfully the others prevailed; he was given pain medication and antibiotics, and we watched and waited.

At first I just talked to him in the cage.  He was very excited to have a visitor and not aggressive in the least, in spite of what he must have been going through.  He nuzzled my hands and whined as he tried to raise himself, but without success.  I kept telling him it was alright, that we would just take our time, but I didn’t really hold out much hope that his legs were ever going to be able to support him, especially as he was wearing a very heavy chain around his neck, which was actually bolted together.  Someone had gone to great lengths to keep him contained, and still he had broken away. I shuddered to think why.

After a week or so of Boysie getting more and more interested in everything around him, one day as I approached the cage he actually heaved himself upright with a look on his face that showed just how proud he was of himself.  He could only hold it a few seconds and sank again to the ground, but he was making a huge effort, and he continued to struggle and struggle, till he was able to stand more or less steady, and I tentatively opened the cage door. 

He wobbled, and looked as if he would fall to the left, steadied himself and listed over to the right, then somehow found a balance between the two and stepped gingerly out into the passage.  I led him out onto the grass and his face registered pure delight.  He raised his nose and sniffed in all directions, then leaned against my leg and whined a thank-you into my hands, and took off walking.  He tottered and dipped as he went along, but he was undeterred, and neither that afternoon, nor on any of the succeeding afternoons, did he ever capitulate and lie down, even when I knew he must be tired.  He wanted to walk, and walk he did, and each day he got stronger. 

There was no question though, that he had a serious problem with his back, as it sloped down at a frightening angle, and he was never able to stretch his back legs to their fullest.  I watched on several occasions as he valiantly tried to lift a leg to pee, but the other one simply couldn’t support the weight of his body, and he would sink to the ground, so eventually he gave up and, looking at me sheepishly, peed on all fours.  I gave him a lot of praise that first time, and after that he lost his embarrassment. 

Fortunately a member of staff was able to hammer off the bolt on his chain, and getting rid of that millstone too was a huge relief for him, and helped with his mobility.

The fur all around his back end was incredibly matted, and now that he could stand on all fours I could begin to comb out the knots.  It had never occurred to me that a shepherd’s fur could become that matted, and it was because he had spent so much time lying down.  Each afternoon my comb would be filled several times with a fistful of knots, till eventually all his fur was smooth and soft instead of hard and brittle.

A testament to his enormous strength was that they used him as a blood donor, not just once but twice.  On each occasion I would find him so weak he could not raise even his head, although his tail greeted me just as happily as usual.  By the following day he would be fine again, with nothing more than the shaved section at his neck as a reminder. 

On one of our walks I discovered his great passion for mangoes.  He spotted one that had fallen from the big tree in the car-park, and literally fell upon it. But as I saw how he was devouring it I began to fear he would swallow the whole seed in his enthusiasm, and took it away from him (with another dog I might have had second thoughts thrusting my hand in between those powerful jaws and taking away his treat, but I knew Boysie wouldn’t hurt me) . 

He was a little upset and tried to get over the fence where I had thrown the rest of the mango, so when he was safely back in his cage I jumped the fence myself, retrieved the mango, washed it and cut chunks off the top and sides, squeezing the juice into a container and disposing of the seed.  When I took it to him in his cage he was so pleased he didn’t know whether to lick my hand first or dig into the mango.  After that, I did my best to collect as many fallen mangoes as I could, so I could give him a dishful each day, and he never failed to show the greatest excitement every time I brought them in.

This was all very well, but time was passing and no one had adopted Boysie.  People who want a shepherd want a perfect one, not one who is the wrong shape and walks funny. I knew that one day I would come and find his cage empty, and dreaded the thought.

But God still had a miracle or two up his sleeve.  A young woman came in one morning and simply fell in love.  She was told all about his problem and didn’t care a hoot.  We couldn’t believe that Boysie had been saved at the eleventh hour, and waited anxiously in case she changed her mind.  Came time for his surgery, and the next day he was feeling strong enough for a gentle stroll, so we were taking a turn around the car-park when  a girl walked up to me with a look of total surprise on her face, wanting to know how there could be another dog who ‘walked and dipped’ just like her Boysie.  I laughed and we began to talk as she made her preparations to take him home.  It was clear that she was smitten with him, and I was impressed that, not having a car, she had organized everything with a taxi man; clutching her envelope of medication, she spread out her big blanket, got into the back seat and drew him in with her.  Being a smallish car, he practically smothered her, but she was quite happy.

I have to admit I was sad to say goodbye, but so proud of how far he had come, and so grateful that the right person had come along just at the right time.  A call the following day confirmed that he had settled immediately in to his new domain, as the girl put it ‘just like he was born there’. 

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Guest Post by Cindi Scholefield, a volunteer at the local animal shelter in Kingston, Jamaica. For any donations to Cindi and her dogs, please send to:
Eunice Crompton-Nicholas
c/o
Harry Dufour
9330 Dunhill Drive
Miramar
Florida 33025-3869

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