Puppies Can Be Hazadous To Your Health
The Love
In a bookstore, on a discount table, there was a big coffee-table book on dogs. Maddie flipped through its glossy color-filled pages, then her heart stopped. The photo was of a soft-coated wheaten terrier, often called a wheaten in reference to its color, a long-haired breed with long whiskers, big brown round friendly eyes vailed under sweeping bangs. It was described as a working farm dog, a ratter, with a friendly, loyal but fiesty disposition that originated from Ireland. Maddie was in love.
Several weeks later, she picked up a wheaten puppy from the airport, having purchased it from a Midwest breeder. It was her very first dog, all brown as wheatens are born, and with the classic short black whiskers that fan outward. “Well, hello sweetie, ah, I mean Tess . . . hello Tess,” Maddie greeted her puppy, showering her with kisses, “I am so ready for you.”
On the ride home, she told Tess all the wonderful things she had in store for her. Maddie went down her checklist: “I bought a couple of books all about puppies, for me of course; made an appointment with a vet for your wellness checkup, shots, and a microchip; a ten-pound bag of food to transition your diet to a yummy organic chicken and veggies with probiotics, and healthy treats; and lots and lots of toys,” Maddie chatter on to say, “Like your pink collar? It matches the leash, but that too is for me. How about this cute heart-shaped ID tag? When we get to the condo, your new home, you’ll see your own private space in the kitchen, decked out with a crate and a plushy cushion bed.” Maddie had even scheduled future appointments with a dog trainer. Nothing was too good for her little girl, no matter the strain on her budget.
The first night sleeping arrangements did not go well. Tess cried all night from being left along in the kitchen. By four o’clock in the morning, Maddie was crying too from lack of sleep and not knowing what to do. The second night, Maddie informed Tess, “I’m moving you and your crate to my bedroom.” By night four, ‘Okay . . . Tess, would you like to sleep in the bed with me?” sighed Maddie. That next morning, she woke, thinking finally, sleep uninterrupted, as she looked up at a bright-eyed Tess who was already awake, sitting, and looking triumphant. That’s how things went for the following weeks, as Tess trained Maddie right up to the first appointment with the professional dog trainer.
The Training
Her name was Jane. She came highly recommended. She was short and stocky with broad shoulders. Her hair was short, curly and brown, piercing brown eyes that matched a tight knowing smile. Tess loved her. Maddie feared her. In less than 30 minutes, Tess learned to respond to the sit command, the down command, and to walk next to Jane’s side. The puppy always attentively looked up to her. “The dog knows what to do,” Jane announced, “Now it’s your turn.” She instructed Maddie on how to give commands, how to say, "Tess, sit. Tess, down;” even when and how to say ‘good girl, Tess,’ all without excessive verbiage; how to hold the leach, how to walk with Tess on on the left side, not allowing the puppy to walk ahead. “The dog does not lead! You do! You are the leader of this pack or Tess will take over. And stop chasing her around the condo to brush her hair! Make her lay down on her side and then brush her,” Jane was firm, yet sympathetic to the anxieties of the new dog owner.
Maddie took it all in, took a deep breath, and focused on being the pack leader, although her heart pounded with doubt. She wasn’t sure of who frightened her more, Tess the tail wagging puppy or Jane the no nonsense dog trainer. Maddie told herself, “I can do this, I can do this.” As the weeks went by, Tess and Maddie learned new commands and tricks. Her confidence grew. She adopted a routine to practice the commands, followed with treats and play time. She found a perfect spot near her condo, where a hill sloped down to a small cove. It opened to a busy avenue, but was private enough to shield against distractions. “Free dog!'“ Maddie would say at the end of practice, and the beginning of play time as they would run up the hill.
The Hazard
One day, play time did not go well. Maddie accidently dropped the leash, Tess kept running up the hill, over the top, and out of site. Chasing after her, Maddie tripped, her chest crashed against a concrete curb, the air in her lungs rushed out, leaving her breathless as her brain registered a sharp pain. She struggled to her knees, slowly got to her feet, then walked on weak shaky legs to the top of the hill. Images of Tess running into the street raced through her mind where it braced for the sound of screeching cars. But no such sound came. What she did see when she reached the top was Tess sitting, looking out at the cars. “Tess . . . Tess,” Maddie whispered haltingly through the chest pain, “What a good dog you are,” picked up the leash, and they sat together for a while looking at the cars, then slowly walked home.
“I’ll just change into my night gown, go to bed and take a nap,” she thought, walking up the stairs to the bedroom. Tess joined her. Hours later, Maddie opened her eyes to a dark room and called, “Tess.” Nothing. She called a little louder, as much as the pain in her chest would allow. Still, no Tess. Painfully, Maddie lifted herself out of bed, using the wall as support. She turned on the ceiling light and made her way to the top of the stairs, where she fainted. Totally unaware that her body was free falling backwards down the stairs, she twisted a wrist on the railing, banged her head against the wall and all fifteen steps. At the bottom of the stairs, her body crumpled onto the floor. Moments later, she opened her eyes. Tess was sitting next to her, gazing down into her face. “I wish you could bring me my cell phone,” Maddie whispered. Tess only licked Maddie’s face.
An ambulance brought three burly men to her door. One picked up the puppy by the back of the neck and placed her in the kitchen, locking the puppy gate behind him. Maddie strained to recount her now two accidents. At the hospital, she got to describe her accidents two more times, once to an emergency room nurse and then the attending emergency doctor on duty. She was soon after rolled into an x-ray room where her body was transferred to a MRI bed. “Ms. Manners, I’m going to need you to be very still. It’s cold inside the machine but imaging will be over in just a few minutes,” said the technician. Maddie tried to look around the lighted tube but was unable to focus, when she thought, “Don’t worry, I won’t move, I can hardly breathe. I just wanna’ throw up and sleep, and she drifted off.
Ms. Manners, Ms. Manners, “This is Dr. Brown again. Can you hear me? There you are,” he said with a gentle smile. She partly opened her eyes and nodded her head to say yes. “You had quite a fall, uh . . . I mean falls. You have a cracked rib. It punctured your spleen which is causing internal bleeding. That’s why you fainted. When you fell down the stairs, you bumped your head, causing a slight concussion. That explains the headaches and feeling nauseated. You complained that your wrist hurts. The bone isn’t broken, but you do have a little swelling. We’ll wrap it for now, and check it again in the morning.” He went on to explain that he wanted to keep her in the hospital on complete bed rest for seven days; no trips to the bathroom, just the bedpan and sponge baths; an IV to start with; then a liquid diet. His plan was a hope that the punctured spleen would heal naturally, he didn’t want to remove it, if possible. “Just rest,” Dr. Brown said, then, “Do you have any questions?” Maddie closed her eyes as the tears rolled down the side of her face.
A transport technician and nurse came into the room to prepare Maddie for the trip to a hospital room. They tightly tucked her in, pulled up the bed rails, when the nurse leaned over close to Maddie’s face and asked, “Did anyone ever tell you that puppies can be hazardous to your health?
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