You make my heart smile. From the first moment I saw you, I knew you were special. You were desperate for a home, you had too many owners in your short life. You were thin, your ribs showed. You were very big, intimidating by your size, but your eyes were so sad. I fell in love with those eyes, you looked scared and you were hungry. Previous owners had no idea what your breed was, they thought they were getting a Pitbull. You grew so large and they couldn’t accommodate your needs. You needed to be able to run and play. You required food twice a day, real dog food not leftovers from the kitchen. You wanted a home and I was ready and willing to take you when a neighbor came and knocked on my door. She only had you for two days, she was the fourth house you had lived at. I will never forget how scared you looked that first day you entered my life. Your eyes were desperate. No wonder you were sad , you felt unloved, unworthy, no one wanted you. They lost out. You are the most magnificent animal: one who protects and serves for life. You are also a wild child full of playful energy. Your breed is a Dogo Argentino. I often wish I could have seen you as a little puppy. You are so intelligent. I have read that dogs know and understand as many words as a six-year-old. You know so much more than words, you know the language of life. Now I have to see you laying still with a wire in your leg, sitting in the grass while your pack plays around you.
You play too hard, run too hard, and show off for your pack. I worry incessantly about you since you had already had a break before. That break was in your front paw, a very strange place. I saw you trip that day running down the stairs…your body is heavy on your legs when you fall. Oh, what a process that was. You would not stay still, you had a screw in the very tip of your pad. It was over six months of constant supervision and you not doing what should be done; which is rest. You ran, you played and nothing could keep you down, not even the cast that was constantly improved. You finally healed and I remember thinking “please never again!” However, here we are again, because you can’t stop when your pack calls you to play. I close the gates to the lake, but someone always opens them up and leaves them open. You love the water. I have no idea how you did this horrific injury but I am sure it was in the lake. When you enter the lake with supervision you are fine, but when you can just do what you want this is what happens. Never again will you be able to run free into the lake showing off, I will make sure of that. You cannot endure another injury. I cannot endure another injury on you.
The day of your surgery I awoke and went to you. I sat next to you just loving on you. I was very distressed to think you would be going under anesthesia just like humans do. I stayed with you and prayed for a good outcome. The surgeon is very famous in Cali, Colombia for his skills. He had just recently put a dogs leg back together who had been shot and the bone shattered. He used a metal rod to connect the bone. When I heard of his success stories I knew you would be fine, but still I could not get over the feeling of trepidation inside my stomach. I did not get much done the day of your surgery. I was watching a movie, waiting for word on when you would be put under and there was the most amazing sign that came in the form of the #89 butterfly. This butterfly is native to Colombia and has the birth year of my daughter on its wings. It came to the windows surrounding the Villa Migelita Suite, and stayed for five minutes. I knew then that you would be fine. You were a gift from Misha. I know she was sending me a sign to calm me down. I was able to relax after the visit from this gorgeous butterfly.
So here we go again: another break, another healing process. I have asked so many to pray and send healing energy to you these last few days. It is all I can do besides making you comfortable. Please my Orion, no more. Stay still, heal and let us all love your magnificent self.