PUPPY

 PETS ARE NOT SEASONAL GIFTS

A couple of years ago, we were at the end of our morning beach walk, and instead of walking on the sand, we made a detour to the paving area to avoid a stray friend. We didn’t expect to meet a lot of strays that day, and our food had run out. (Feeding strays is unpredictable; we never know who will show up). But not to take the risk, we took the detour instead of meeting that regular fur boy in that area empty-handed.

They say that sometimes things are meant to be. 

Even though I had walked the area hundreds of times, before today, I had never ventured to the pavement nearby because I disliked the noises; there were vehicles, more people, and dustier, too.

As we were near the destination, something caught my eye. Between the parked motorcycles, a tiny puppy was sitting alone. Usually, puppies are playful, but this one was just there, looking at us. I walked closer to observe, and on his neck, there was plastic rope, usually used for tying stuff. Normally, my dog Locky would greet strays, but this time, he stayed put.

 

I took her picture, thinking to ask around if the owner was nearby. Just as I wondered why this puppy was there alone, dangerously sat among the vehicles, almost invisible because of its size, the puppy stood up and walked, and a trail of dark, thick, red blood came out of her end. It was a lot of blood, and she moved to a clean area and sat there again.

Locky was restless and tried to walk in the opposite direction. Obviously, the puppy was really unwell, but no one seemed to acknowledge her. I was panicking, too. I was not in the position to help this dog in terms of finances and availability. I really didn’t know what to do, but this dog didn’t ask for anything. While I was stressed out, she just sat there and looked at me with her very understanding eyes. A million worries went through my head, but how could I walk away?

I had to make a decision. I scooped the puppy up carefully; she weighed nothing, and we walked to the car, which was fortunately nearby. I had a plastic shoe box, and she fitted in nicely. Locky sat in the back. I tried to keep them apart and wiped my hands (although the puppy was clean even after the blood discharge). I had a suspicion about her condition, and this could be really bad.

 

 

I was unfamiliar with vets in the area, but luckily, I had heard about the animal hospital before. It was not too far. I explained the situation to the receptionist and was asked to sign a form.

“What is the name of the dog?”

“I don’t know. It’s not mine…” The sad realization hit me as the receptionist said I needed to register something for administration purposes; the poor puppy didn’t even have a name. She became Puppy. While waiting, Puppy suddenly seemed bright and okay. She sat up, wagged her tail, and exchanged friendly gestures with Locky; all the while, she was well-behaved, calm, stayed obediently in the box, and never made a peep.

 

The vet suspected Puppy had Parvovirus. Here, the mortality rate was above 95%, and judging from blood discharge, which I explained as best I could, it was not an early stage. We needed to take a costly test to ensure that was what she had, and yes, Puppy had that deadly virus.

On the examination table, Puppy was back to her early stage, barely moving and just staring with her big, understanding eyes. The vet explained that her chance was really bad and suggested putting her down. There was no cure for Parvo; all she could do was help with hydration and nutrition, and the dog had to fight it herself. But her chance was really low because she was in a malnourished condition, and it must have been days or weeks since she got the virus.

 

 

You would think you only feel for something when you know them. I didn’t know Puppy, but I was devastated, especially when the vet really leaned on putting her down. Things could get worse; the chance of survival was almost zero, and as she put it, the alternative would be very costly.

Against the advice, I thought Puppy deserved a chance to try. We checked her for an overnight stay in the hospital, and we had to say goodbye. Puppy had to be quarantined and separated from other dogs with no chance to visit, so we left with a promise from the vet that she would be well taken care of. I was sprayed with something for precaution, and even though Locky had been vaccinated against this virus, they suggested he take some immune boost supplements for two weeks with close monitoring of his health.

 

 

It was an anxious day, and I must have been terrorizing the hospital, constantly asking for updates. 

Unfortunately, around ten o’clock that night, they informed me that Puppy had lost the battle.

 

 

Puppy was an unlucky dog with a bad human as her owner. She was not even wearing a proper collar; they tied a plastic rope on her neck just like they tied groceries or trash. Most likely, the owner didn’t know or bother about vaccinations. Parvo is deadly but preventable. And worse, when she was sick, she was thrown away like garbage, left alone out there to die by herself. It's heartbreaking to think she might have been waiting there in the parking area for the owner to come back for her.

Unfortunately, here and in many places in the world, there are always abandoned dogs like Puppy. They probably started their days happy, hugged by their family, cherished as Christmas or holiday presents. But when the reality kicks in that dogs are not toys, they need maintenance, medical care, training, they can be noisy and smelly, they grow up and don’t stay as small and cute as the puppy version, kids are no longer happy with them, they get sick, and there they go to the bin, probably just like how these people treat their stuff. There is a special place in hell or whatever corner for these monsters.

I knew almost every stray around that area. They were generally healthy and vaccinated from the collective efforts of strangers. Some were bare and some wore collars we put on them to increase their safety (kidnappers for dog meat, yes, they exist), not dangerous plastic rope around their neck.

Puppy was not a stray. Puppy was abandoned by her despicable, dumbass, heartless owner. Puppy was left to death when she was found to be sick.

Pets are not seasonal gifts; they are not entertainment or temporary companions during lockdown to be abandoned after that. They are lifetime commitments.

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Sorry for the long post. 

I still see the trend every holiday season, people gifting them without feasible long-term plan, thinking pets are short-term entertainment and property.

As long as these monsters exist, there will be a Puppy somewhere.