The Best Stories

The best stories are the ones that we tell over and over again.  Those stories are often the ones that offer a lesson.  With respect to dog stories, there are some really good ones.  They usually involve a dog that never gave up or a dog that waited.  A dog that saved a human or a dog that stayed by their side through something tragic.  They are stories of loyalty.  We don't often see the roles reversed because... let's be honest, dogs are often seen as expendable.  They are considered replaceable.  Not all of us see them that way though.

Bentley's right rear leg was amputated on Tuesday the 20th of December 2016 in the late afternoon, exactly one month after his accident.  It was a two and a half hour surgery.  He had a skilled surgeon and the most amazing technicians by his side.  It was flawless.  He was sleeping when I arrived and heavily sedated.  But like always, when he heard my voice, he fought through all of it to lift his head and acknowledge me.  He fought to sit up and when I reassured him he laid back down with a heavy head an snored, resting deeply.  Every two or three minutes he would open his eyes just slightly to make sure I was still there.  I stayed for about 45 minutes.  He was covered with a blanket and I could not see the results of his amputation.  I'm not sure I wanted to because honestly, I was struggling with it more than he ever would.  To me it was a realization that we would never do certain things again.  Our relationship was physical.  It was wrestling, fetching, and chasing.  In a way, it was me feeling sorry for me. When I left him, he was sleeping.  The T-shirt I had worn all day was in
in my pocket.  I rolled it up and left it near his nose so he could smell me while I snuck out.  

yesterday, Krysta and I made it down there in the early evening.  He was totally uncovered when we came in.  I'm not sure what I was expecting.  I still haven't adjusted to it.  Krysta and I covered him back up, but only because we wanted to remove his windshield and didn't want him messing with his wound.  He cried happily the whole time we were there.  He was clearly feeling better and though I'm sure he was still in some pain, he was visibly more comfortable.  Krysta shared a video on FB that some of you saw.

I'm always struggling to keep things in perspective.  To me, it's about his survival.  I can tell you that I feel good about what we have done.  I can tell you that I sleep good knowing that he's still here.  I can tell you that he is practically oblivious to the fact that his right leg is missing.  The whole time we were with him, he didn't give it a second glance.  He concentrated on us begged for attention.  That's all he wanted. 









Dr. Runnels confirmed that we made the right decision.  During the amputation he was able to inspect the right femur and confirmed how much it had been corrupted.  The FHO would likely have failed or, at best, would have been a ticking time bomb.  The amputation will allow us to move on and get started on rehabilitation.  First however, his wound has to heal.  It has to heal without infection.  Another infection could be a disaster.

We're back to waiting.  I'm not sure when Bentley can come home.  The Dr. seemed very optimistic, but I don't want him here if he's safer there.  I like him being with experts. 



So this is the new Bentley.  When I visited today, he was the happiest I have seen him since before the accident.  He was sliding all over the place, shaking his nub, and trying to sit up.  He did sit up a little bit.  He hasn't gotten it all figured out just yet.  To my amazement, he doesn't seem to care that his leg is gone.  It's almost like it was never there.  It's more of a "confusion" as to why certain things are difficult.  He's smiling and genuinely seemed to feel good.  When I left, he drug himself out of his pen and followed me like that's what he was supposed to do.  When I finally got him secured and transitioned back to the waiting room, he let out the most extraordinary howl.  I've never heard him howl like that.  I didn't even know he could do that.  I guess that's clear evidence that he was raised with huskies. (Don't tell him he's not a husky).   

This was the last photo I took today.  Yes, that's a grin on his face.  Like I said, he has no clue that he's not the same dog he was a month ago.  He's determined and he's supported. 

Thanks for staying with us and thanks for the tremendous support you have provided to this family.  We are reading every comment and feeling every bit of love.

Please continue to share his story.  That's especially true for those of you who are local.  There are two more things that I still need to accomplish.  The first, is rehabilitating this dog and improving his quality of life.  The second is about closure.  Krysta and I need to speak with the girl who hit him.  We may never get that chance, but maybe she is reading this, or maybe she will.  Once again, we need her to know that he's alive and that it wasn't her fault.  Please help me get that message to her.

Love ya'll.