Three Feet

Cricket.

Three Feet

I looked down and saw multiple red colored bumps, each approaching the diameter of a quarter, all over her rear right foot.  They looked sore and when she began to keep that leg cocked and elevated as she walked I could tell they were causing her pain.

Pain is no stranger to this large black dog.  She’s been through so much.  I worried about her welfare in coping with a fourth surgery.  But, it was now blatantly obvious that if her life were to be spared I would need to take her for an examination sooner than later.  I made the appointment for the next day, Wednesday morning.

Such appointments are always hard for me.  I go in not knowing what the outcome is going to be.  Two other times, with two other pets, I went in with my pet only to exit the building without my companion, having tears stream down my cheeks and trying to catch my breath.  I didn’t want to have that experience again, especially on this particular Wednesday. 

We walked into the veterinary hospital and were ushered into a small room where I sat while Cricket paced.  She was in good spirits, though a little nervous. 

Another door opened.  Cricket cowered.

“She recognizes you!”  I said to Jon, our veterinarian.

Jon gently looked at her foot and then looked up to me through concerned eyes.

“This is very aggressive cancer.” He explained.  “The only thing we can do to save her is to remove her leg, try to get ahead of it.”

This wasn’t the news I was hoping for, but it wasn’t the worst of my fears.  A fourth surgery!  It would take place the next day.  There was not a moment to lose in Cricket’s fight for life.  She could still live a fine life with three legs.

I had known one three-legged dog early in my life.  He had been energetic and fun.  I was hoping the result would be the same for this pal of mine.

When I picked my buddy up from the hospital on Friday she was in misery.  I carried her from the car into our house.  She cried a little, but was glad to be back home.  The pain she was feeling showed in her eyes.  It was hard for both of us.  But, it wasn’t the hardest thing to come for me.

The next evening when it was time for me to take my dogs for their walk, she watched intently as I performed my usual ritual of preparation.  Then, as I walked past her, she rose to her three feet and dutifully hobbled along with me to the door.  That moment forced me to make a decision.  Could I tell her she can’t go after such a show of bravery?

I decided to let her come.

We went out the front door and made it just about five feet from the porch onto the lush green grass.  It was then that she had done as much as she could do.  She stood, looking forward, unable to make her body continue no matter how much her heart wanted to proceed.  Her bravery and displayed loyalty, at that moment, will remain with me for the rest of my days!

Cricket has taught me more about bravery and loyalty than anyone.  As her days of healing progress I can only hope to return such character traits back in her direction.  She wears no shoes, but if she did, they’d be mighty big ones to fill. 

I will never be able to fill her sized shoes.  Three feet and still standing.