Typewriter

Notes From an Amateur Writer #37
A RESCUE OF SORTS

This Blog series is an exercise in creative writing. Sometimes expressed in short story form, sometimes as a journal, or just my thoughts written down. This is my attempt to help coalesce my writing ideas and knowledge into usable form. It is a nursery of sorts for the stories that are on their way, or yet to be written.

A Cry For Help

I heard the piercing scream from inside the house. It came from somewhere outside. I heard it again, and turned to my wife who looked as shocked and concerned as I did. No I wasn't dreaming, that noise did happen. And it did sound as concerning as I had first believed.

I ran outside, to the gate, and looked out into the street. There was no one there. I opened the gate and walked out, looking in both direction, but saw nothing. After a short while – perhaps a mere few seconds – I finally saw where the noise was coming from. It had stopped as soon as I got to the gate. I ran to the other side of the street, where there is a section of scrub land that people often dump things in. Literally across the street from out house, perhaps ten metres or so away, someone had abandoned a dog. It had an electric collar on, and this is what we believe was causing the piercing screams. It was laying with its back to us, on its side, panting very heavily. I immediately removed the collar and put that away.

The dog looked heavily pregnant, and our initial belief was that this is why it had been abandoned. I looked around immediately upon seeing the cause of the screams, but I couldn't see anyone, or make out any movement. I still to this day don't know who dumped their dog there.

Previous Experiences

This was not my first experience with abandoned animals. My childhood pet was a German Shepherd cross Collie that was a part of our family from when I was three until eighteen. It had been thrown out with other pups and found by a family friend who made sure all the pups found a home to live in.

From my wife's previous times living here she has made contacts with local dog rescue centres, and she went to make calls whilst I carried the dog into our yard and worked out how injured she was. After drinking water, she started to come to, having no more electric shocks disturbing her either. She started to gingerly move about, but was naturally apprehensive about having us too close. We have a pet dog of our own (another rescue) who helped reassure our new friend that she was safe. A couple of dog treats seemed to do the rest, and after that we were like best buddies.

A Walk To Remember

Eventually we were able to get a hold of a rescue centre that would take her, but I needed to get her to a vet in a nearby suburb which is about a ten minute drive away. We have no car, and after several calls weren't able to get the use of one at short notice. As I feared that she wasn't in a good way, I didn't want to have her with us overnight, and looking as heavily pregnant as she did, I suspected she may give birth any moment.

After discussing our options, I decide I would walk her down to the local taxi rank and get a lift to the Vet. I had been assured that the taxi drivers would speak English, and would take an animal, given the situation. Turns out both were extremely incorrect. And I suspect the driver's English skills (which, granted, were probably not much to begin with, and I understand why – it's Spain) completely disappeared upon sight of the animal. I don't think they were happy to take her in their cars, for any reason, and that was that.

The walk to the taxi rank had been about fifteen minutes, and for over half of that I had to carry her. She was trying her best, and we took our time, but she wasn't always able to walk. So I carried her for periods of time to let her rest. When I realised I had no way to drive to the Vet then it occurred to me the only way to assist this dog was to walk her to the Vet. A walk of approx 45 minutes, to a place I had never been before. I looked it up on Google Maps and worked out the route and just made the decision to do what needed to be done.

I had to carry her for at least half the journey, but she walked as much as she was able, and tried her best. She gave me many smiles along the way, which gave me the impression she knew I was trying to get her to help.

We eventually made it to the Vet and they were expecting me, having received a phone call from the rescue centre. I told the story to the receptionist, as well as several customers who came and went whilst I was there. The dog had been micro-chipped, but it had corrupted data on it.

Left To Wonder

I heard the next day from the woman at the rescue centre that the dog was in fact not pregnant but had a heart problem. Given the swelling in her torso area it must have been a considerable problem, and I can't imagine the pain she was in. We believe the electric collar was the cause of her heart problem, and probably would have killed her if we hadn't intervened. However they also told us the cost to help her was going to be considerable, and they weren't sure if they were going to proceed. Which left me feeling somewhat deflated after all that effort.

I have given this experience much thought and consideration, and wonder if perhaps the reason for us crossing paths was to give her an opportunity before her passing (if she indeed has passed) of the better side of humanity, rather than her last memories being of the people who tried to electrocute her to death. Or maybe this is just me trying to make sense of a difficult situation. I'm not completely sure. All I know is that there was no way I could not do anything. I couldn't leave her there and pretend it wasn't my problem. It became my problem, so I did what I could, even if it wasn't enough in the end. Which cuts me up a bit, but these are the experiences life throws our way from time to time.

Hasta luego, amigos.

Rescue dog