Determination

Blackie,

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Determination, that’s what it took, that and believing in the impossible.

We didn’t know about puppy mills when we saw him in the window of the local Pet Store at the

Mall. I must have stopped there five times and gone in to pick up that fluffy black puppy. He was a pure bread German Shepherd and he was adorable. I fretted when I saw others look at him, or have him taken out to play with. I had to have that baby dog.

We’d just lost our first German Shepherd, he was rescued from a place where his owner had died, and my heart had a hole in it only a baby doggie could fill. It took some talking to get my husband to agree to buy him. I don’t know what it was, but when I looked into those big golden brown eyes there was a connection. I knew he had to come home with me. My heart about burst when I held him in my arms. He smelled so good, like a baby of any kind usually does. Little dog kisses washed me face and I fell in love.

That night we had spaghetti for dinner and the little boy just tried to dive into a plate of it. I gave him a tiny piece of meatball and he attacked it. He chewed merrily through the evening on all of his new toys and rawhide strips. We had a great evening and he slept on the end of our bed. Little doggie breaths and grunts made us smile. My husband wanted to call him Blackie and though I had better names I let it be Blackie, just because he got me the dog.

Then morning came. The night and day difference scared me to death. The little fellow was so lethargic and I barely got him outside to go when the first bouts of diarrhea hit. What didn’t come out of that end came out of the other and he coughed a lot too. I freaked, so we rushed to the pet store and they sent us to a local veterinarian. He diagnosed kennel cough, gave us medicine and we went home feeling much better.

He didn’t improve and I brought him back to the vet again and again. His kennel cough turned into pneumonia and antibiotics were added. He didn’t eat at all and I tried every food I could think of.

He got even worse and finally the vet told me he had distemper. He suggested we put the puppy down, would give me another dog. Put him down! What! I had this little bundle of sweetness in my heart already. Put him down, not on my watch. So here’s what I was stuck with. Lots of medicines and something from the pharmacy called parapectolin. I had to sign for it but it was an over the counter medication at that time. It had a small amount of codeine in it and it kept the poor baby sleepy, but it stopped the runs. How could I get him to eat?

I went and bought baby food, there were several kinds of meat foods and I added water to them to thin them down. I used a large syringe to draw up the food and them I put the tip of it behind his back teeth in that little area dogs have back there. I forced syringe by syringe full of food down him mouth and gave him the other medications and carried him in and out to do his duty. He slept most of the time.

I cared for him for six months and then one day he tried to eat out of my plate. I bought dog food and for the first time in six months, he ate on his own. Eureka! Victory! He got better every day and he became a wonderful family member. He was a wonderful dog and we loved every minute of the ten years he lived.

He ended up to be a huge dog at 140 lbs. Black as night the only marking on him was a small white patch on his chest. What a beautiful and affectionate animal he turned into, he seemed grateful for every day of life. I was grateful for every day of his life and I will never stop missing him. Someday I hope to see him in heaven, I know he will make it there, I hope I do too!

So, to me the moral of the story is. Never say die!