You Think You’re Tough? Meet Jodi

While there is Yet Another Dog that I have not even mentioned here, I have more to say about our Tiny Tyrant. I didn’t post any photos before, but how about this one:

Getting this x-ray was not simple. We gave her sedatives the night before and the day of, and she shrugged them off. “Is that the best you got?” she asked over her fifth martini, a forgotten cigarette hanging out of the corner of her mouth. “Because I call that breakfast.” Under the heavy drugs that followed she was sure she could drive home.

She is already a legend at the vet’s office.

But levity aside, above you are looking at Jodi’s insides, and you do not have to stare too long to see that all is not well. On the R side (your L), her entire hip and femur are kerploded. On her left, you can see how the bone fits into its socket. On the right, the bone is crushed and also the socket is destroyed. That little cup-shaped structure on the right below the break is part of the healthy socked on the left. It’s a mess in there! Farther down the leg, you can see how things are crooked on that side where they are straight on the other. Although over on the left side it looks like the wing of the pelvis is messed up.

This has to hurt. It probably happened in 2019, the result of getting hit by a car. The people who (probably) loved her then recovered her from the pound and, most likely, simply could not afford the medical care she needed. They probably couldn’t even afford to discover what care that was.

Animal welfare follows human welfare.

Having seen the x-ray, I’ve been alert to times she uses her left leg over her right. But watching her, you would never know that she is supported by muscle rather than bone. It’s going to take more than a shattered leg and a destroyed pelvis to stop this girl, and I love her for it.

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Welcome, Jodi Foster

I have been traveling. It was planned that when I got home that we would be taking in a dog with serious anger and fear issues. But while I was away, The Official Sweetie of Muddled Ramblings and Half-Baked Ideas started watching another little dog.

The girl has a rap sheet that goes back to 2014; she was a young adult the first time she was brought in. Now she was in the pokey again, and she was not doing well, snapping at the staff, defending herself and living in fear. The shelter scheduled her death.

Official Sweetie understood instantly that she was not a bad dog, not even a biting dog. She was simply a dog that could not cope with living in a shelter, a dog that had been through some shit and just needed a little space. Official Sweetie worked with other rescues to find help, but there was never a question: Jodi would not die there.

And now she lives here.

I was nervous, coming home from my travels, that the new dog would see me as an intruder in her new, most excellent life. Not so! Jodi was curious about me and not the least defensive, and hours later she was curled up next to me on the couch. I let her be, mostly. I didn’t want to push it.

Last night, on the couch again, I dared to give her skricthins and lovins, and she was all for it. We’re going to be all right.

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