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Three-Legged Dog, One-Legged Vet
by Bryan Shaw

Everyone has done it at some time. "Was that light red when I went through that last intersection?" "Can't remember coming round by the Centre, but how did I get here?" Driving has become so automatic that it's easy to daydream.

This daydream was different. As I waited at the light my mind told me I had seen something out of the ordinary about 200 metres back: a young woman kneeling over a body on the grass berm.

Now fully awake, I negotiated my delivery van through a U-turn and headed back the way I came. Sure enough, in the distance the two figures were still there. As I approached I saw a distraught young woman kneeling over the inert body on the grass.

Not sure what I would find, I moved with a great deal of hesitation and nervousness.

Tyson was a mixed breed, but with a large dose of ridgeback. He lay inert, fearul, clearly in considerable pain from a badly injured hind leg which he protected with menacing growls as I drew closer.

The young Polynesian woman did not speak English very well, either because it was not her native tongue, or because of her distress, but it was clear Tyson had been run over and needed help. Polly (not her real name) indicated she lived close by, and gladly accepted my offer of a lift. Tyson vehemently refused. He struggled onto three legs, and limped and hopped along the footpath towards home leaving a bloody trail.

Home was ony 200 metres away, and Tyson got there first. He went straight to his kennel, but refused any attention from anyone. The house was homely but money was obviously in short supply.

Polly, still nearly incoherent, was grateful of my offer to telephone for a vet.

I explained the situation to the vet, who appeared to be more concerned about who would pay the bill. I assured her I would guarantee payment if Polly defaulted, and as I was unable to help further, I went back to work.

I repeatedly thought about Tyson's frightened eyes and mangled hind leg over the following couple of weeks. I telephoned the vet to ask about the treatment he was receiving and how he was doing.

It wasn’t promising."The ligaments are badly torn, and it may be necessary to amputate", said the vet.

He was a such a young dog to sustain such a horrible injury. “Wouldn’t it be more humane to euthanase him?" I imagined the difficulty the Polynesian family would have paying and providing adequate care and rehabilitation for a three-legged dog. And what would his quality of life be?

My comment obviously touched a nerve.

"I only have one leg, and I manage just fine thanks!" she retorted and hung up!