An older picture of Bo looking sad.
Una foto vieja de Bo con una mirada triste.
My family lived through a tragic experience this weekend that ended as a miracle.
I took our dog Bobo for a run toward the Little Spokane River, but before we could arrive, he was hit by a boat. Yes, he was hit by a BOAT.
It happened like this. Bobo got ahead of me as we were running on the sidewalk of Mill Road. Thinking of his safety, I called him back to run behind me. He has become very obedient in the last year, so I didn't worry about him running off. He looked at me, and obediently turned back, but as he did so, he stepped off the curb and ran in a circle. A large truck pulling a boat passed by at a fairly fast speed. Bobo saw the truck, and started back for the sidewalk, but he didn't see the boat trailer with the extra wide tires. The back tire of the boat trailer slammed into the dog and sent him flying into the air. Blood and feces splattered onto the street and sidewalk, while the dog fell limp into a silent heap. I just stood in shock thinking he was dead.
The truck sped away without so much as a pause.
Another car stopped right away. A concerned man got out and asked, "Did that guy just hit your dig? Do you want me to run him down?"
"No," I said, "What good will that do me now? Can you just help me contact my family?"
The man offered his cell phone, but then other cars and trucks raced by with no regard for my dog lying in the middle of the street. Several cars almost ran him over again, so I grabbed him by the collar and dragged his rigid body onto the sidewalk. Bobo opened his eyes, but he still looked bad. He could hardly move, and blood was still gushing from his mouth. I thought he would die soon. I had every intention of sitting with him until my family arrived or he died.
My family was in the middle of a yard sale, so I knew they wouldn't answer the phone. Fortunately, another family passed by and agreed to drive to my house and inform my wife.
Meanwhile, the man with the cell phone found a vet down the street and brought her back to examine the dog. She arrived just a minute or so before my wife and Dakota. She helped us load him onto a stretcher and carry him to the car.
By the time the vet examined the dog, Bobo had become more alert and started to show signs of fear. He struggled to get away from the stretcher, but I held my face close to him and tried to speak as many soothing words as possible. The vet was very surprised not to find any broken bones or signs of serious injury. His lungs, temperature, heart rate... everything was normal.
Even so, the doctor wanted to order a series of tests, including an x-ray, at almost $650. For a moment, Rhonda and I were stuck with the dilemma of paying money we didn't have to possibly save his life, or to not pay and possibly let him die. It was a horrible and emotional moment for both of us, and also for Dakota, who stood by watching. We agonized over the decision, but finally decided to decline the expensive treatments. They sent pain meds and an anti-biotic and let us take him home.
In the end, Bobo got out of the car and walked back into the house. This evening, just over 24 hours later, he is up and jumping as though nothing ever happened. He shows no external sign of injury! From thinking he was dead, now he seems totally normal. We called him Bo Miracle, or Bo Lazarus.
Of course, he's not out of the woods yet. The doctor said he may have injured his liver, but we wouldn't be able to tell for a few days. He'll go back in tomorrow to find out. Until then, we'll just keep praying for our miracle dog.
I took our dog Bobo for a run toward the Little Spokane River, but before we could arrive, he was hit by a boat. Yes, he was hit by a BOAT.
It happened like this. Bobo got ahead of me as we were running on the sidewalk of Mill Road. Thinking of his safety, I called him back to run behind me. He has become very obedient in the last year, so I didn't worry about him running off. He looked at me, and obediently turned back, but as he did so, he stepped off the curb and ran in a circle. A large truck pulling a boat passed by at a fairly fast speed. Bobo saw the truck, and started back for the sidewalk, but he didn't see the boat trailer with the extra wide tires. The back tire of the boat trailer slammed into the dog and sent him flying into the air. Blood and feces splattered onto the street and sidewalk, while the dog fell limp into a silent heap. I just stood in shock thinking he was dead.
The truck sped away without so much as a pause.
Another car stopped right away. A concerned man got out and asked, "Did that guy just hit your dig? Do you want me to run him down?"
"No," I said, "What good will that do me now? Can you just help me contact my family?"
The man offered his cell phone, but then other cars and trucks raced by with no regard for my dog lying in the middle of the street. Several cars almost ran him over again, so I grabbed him by the collar and dragged his rigid body onto the sidewalk. Bobo opened his eyes, but he still looked bad. He could hardly move, and blood was still gushing from his mouth. I thought he would die soon. I had every intention of sitting with him until my family arrived or he died.
My family was in the middle of a yard sale, so I knew they wouldn't answer the phone. Fortunately, another family passed by and agreed to drive to my house and inform my wife.
Meanwhile, the man with the cell phone found a vet down the street and brought her back to examine the dog. She arrived just a minute or so before my wife and Dakota. She helped us load him onto a stretcher and carry him to the car.
By the time the vet examined the dog, Bobo had become more alert and started to show signs of fear. He struggled to get away from the stretcher, but I held my face close to him and tried to speak as many soothing words as possible. The vet was very surprised not to find any broken bones or signs of serious injury. His lungs, temperature, heart rate... everything was normal.
Even so, the doctor wanted to order a series of tests, including an x-ray, at almost $650. For a moment, Rhonda and I were stuck with the dilemma of paying money we didn't have to possibly save his life, or to not pay and possibly let him die. It was a horrible and emotional moment for both of us, and also for Dakota, who stood by watching. We agonized over the decision, but finally decided to decline the expensive treatments. They sent pain meds and an anti-biotic and let us take him home.
In the end, Bobo got out of the car and walked back into the house. This evening, just over 24 hours later, he is up and jumping as though nothing ever happened. He shows no external sign of injury! From thinking he was dead, now he seems totally normal. We called him Bo Miracle, or Bo Lazarus.
Of course, he's not out of the woods yet. The doctor said he may have injured his liver, but we wouldn't be able to tell for a few days. He'll go back in tomorrow to find out. Until then, we'll just keep praying for our miracle dog.
1 comment:
So is he ok, now. What happend at the doctor.
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