Luck Be a Lady

We have two new puppies.  Yes, you heard me.  Two…new…puppies.  One boy and one girl.  Before anyone reminds me about putting my foot down and other nonsense like that, let me make one thing perfectly clear.  The puppies are not permanent residents.  They are a business proposition.  They were acquired to be trained and sold.  Period.  They are not staying.  At least not without someone else going, preferably not me.  I refuse to become attached to them.  In fact, they don’t even have names.  I don’t intend to name them.  Well, one of them might have already earned a name because of his recent adventure.  Why is it that most of our adventures involve our dogs?  Maybe that is inevitable when you have a pack as large as ours.  One thing I know for sure is that the male puppy is very lucky to be here.

Since the puppies arrived at our house three weeks ago, John has been very conscientious about knowing their location whenever a vehicle is moving.  He goes out every morning when I leave for work, and he shuts them in their pen when he is using the tractor so he doesn’t have to be aware of their movements.  That’s why it was surprising last week when he got distracted by a phone call and started his pickup without doing puppy reconnaissance.  He only moved a few feet when an odd thud caused him to stop abruptly with a sick feeling in his stomach.

The male puppy was screaming and flopping around under the pickup.  His location indicated that his head must have been run over by one of the front tires, and the dirt and gravel in his mouth seemed to support that conclusion.  John carried him to a shady spot in the grass for observation to determine if he needed to take action to end his suffering.  As his cries subsided, John began to clean the dirt and gravel out of his mouth.  As he dug out the last of the rocks, the puppy bit down on his finger.  John wasn’t sure if he was trying to play with him or get even.  He brought the puppy some water, and he began to drink.  That was certainly a good sign, but not a guarantee of survival.  Within minutes he was taking some tentative steps.  He had some mild paralysis on one side for a couple of days, but in less than 72 hours, he was completely recovered.

We decided that it surely must have been a glancing blow from the tire rather than a direct hit, and the vehicle that inflicted the damage was a small Toyota rather than a full size pickup.  Nonetheless, such a narrow escape has us calling the male, Lucky.  That means we probably need to find a name for the little lady as well, but even with names, Lucky and Lady are not staying.  Luck can only take you so far!

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