Cheyenne
After leaving you all with that last tidbit I find my mind swimming with memories. I felt it only fair to you, and to my sanity (which walks a very fine line weighted with pregnancy hormones these days)to give you the whole story. I will also post pictures of her as soon as I can get them uploaded.
CHEYENNE
When I first laid eyes on her I knew she had somehow lost her soul. She had given up, her emotions drained until she was dry as dust inside. The veterinarian suggested she was between a year and eighteen months. A delicate little female of blonde and white who was pulled from animal control with a badly broken front leg. At the pound she had been thrown in a cage with three larger dogs who felt it necessary to continuously attack such an easy target. The rescuer simply couldn't walk away. Knowing she would never be adopted when she was so obviously injured, animal control released her to the local animal rescue group, one I also worked with on occasion. Working as a veterinary technician for the vet who handled most of their intakes, it was impossible not to get involved. This little girl was carried in and placed on the scale in front of me, her little leg twisted at an odd angle and her gaze completely empty. When the rescuer stepped away, the dog didn't so much as twitch.
"I'll leave her with you, just give us a call and let us know what she'll need," the rescuer told me, already halfway out the door. "Oh, and she'll need a name. They didn't know what it was at the pound." The bell above the door chimed as it closed.
"Cheyenne. Her name is Cheyenne." I told the vet, and the suggestion was accepted with no arguement.
Through the entire examination, Cheyenne barely moved. The bony protrusion of her hips from each side revealed her lack of proper nutrition, that she was seriously underweight, and her coat was dingy and flecked with flea dirt. The leg had been left without medical care for weeks, and her tiny bones had begun to heal back in the wrong direction, making it look as if her foot was trying to somehow escape from her knee. To ensure she would be able to walk correctly again, the leg was rebroken and set. Though she was not concious at the time, the procedure nonetheless had the rest of us wincing in pain. When she awoke a few hours later, I had already fitted her with a clumpy green cast to hop around on. After a few days of rest, a few good meals and round of vaccinations, it was time for Cheyenne to leave the hospital. It was discovered during her stay that Cheyenne had some serious trust issues. She was deathly afraid of anyone loud, and would submissively cower and wet if someone approached her head on. Her absolute fear and misunderstanding tugged at my heartstrings. I called the rescue coordinator to let her know I would take Cheyenne home with me as a foster. It was going to take some serious work and lots of TLC to help destroy her demons.
*As I get further into this story I realize that it may take some time to complete. I will return with the next installment tomorrow. - Dixee
CHEYENNE
When I first laid eyes on her I knew she had somehow lost her soul. She had given up, her emotions drained until she was dry as dust inside. The veterinarian suggested she was between a year and eighteen months. A delicate little female of blonde and white who was pulled from animal control with a badly broken front leg. At the pound she had been thrown in a cage with three larger dogs who felt it necessary to continuously attack such an easy target. The rescuer simply couldn't walk away. Knowing she would never be adopted when she was so obviously injured, animal control released her to the local animal rescue group, one I also worked with on occasion. Working as a veterinary technician for the vet who handled most of their intakes, it was impossible not to get involved. This little girl was carried in and placed on the scale in front of me, her little leg twisted at an odd angle and her gaze completely empty. When the rescuer stepped away, the dog didn't so much as twitch.
"I'll leave her with you, just give us a call and let us know what she'll need," the rescuer told me, already halfway out the door. "Oh, and she'll need a name. They didn't know what it was at the pound." The bell above the door chimed as it closed.
"Cheyenne. Her name is Cheyenne." I told the vet, and the suggestion was accepted with no arguement.
Through the entire examination, Cheyenne barely moved. The bony protrusion of her hips from each side revealed her lack of proper nutrition, that she was seriously underweight, and her coat was dingy and flecked with flea dirt. The leg had been left without medical care for weeks, and her tiny bones had begun to heal back in the wrong direction, making it look as if her foot was trying to somehow escape from her knee. To ensure she would be able to walk correctly again, the leg was rebroken and set. Though she was not concious at the time, the procedure nonetheless had the rest of us wincing in pain. When she awoke a few hours later, I had already fitted her with a clumpy green cast to hop around on. After a few days of rest, a few good meals and round of vaccinations, it was time for Cheyenne to leave the hospital. It was discovered during her stay that Cheyenne had some serious trust issues. She was deathly afraid of anyone loud, and would submissively cower and wet if someone approached her head on. Her absolute fear and misunderstanding tugged at my heartstrings. I called the rescue coordinator to let her know I would take Cheyenne home with me as a foster. It was going to take some serious work and lots of TLC to help destroy her demons.
*As I get further into this story I realize that it may take some time to complete. I will return with the next installment tomorrow. - Dixee
posted by Unknown @ 2:07 PM
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