Chapter 34 (Animals I’ve Known and Loved, cont.)

BAD BREAK FOR BARNEY

The Ashe’s were moving. Buck, Karen’s husband had been transferred, so they set their house up for sale. I wondered what Wendy would do without Barney… but maybe we’d have our family dog back… not just this hunting dog that would come back for rest and meals.

We had our Sunday New York Times saved for us at Marty’s Market in Vestal Center. Instead of church, I chose to take Wendy for a walk to Marty’s Market by cutting down through the field and wood, across Route 26, and walking along Choconut Creek south to Vestal Center. Sometimes I felt I got a better sermon from Nature.

We had got to the foot of the hill and had safely crossed Route 26 with the aid of the leash, when I realized Barney had been trailing us about 100 feet behind. I didn’t want to trek back home just to bring him home. He sensed my impatience with him and kept his distance. I figured I would somehow link both dogs to the same leash once I got back near the route in Vestal Center. Barney seemed to like my being the leader for a change, and was fascinated with the wild new territory which we were going through. We were close enough to hear traffic in the distance, but the area was so wild that you felt hundreds of miles away from civilization.

Once I got to Vestal Center, Barney sensed I was going to do something and skirted the parking lot in front of Marty’s getting too close to the road. While trying to control Wendy while approaching Barney with the leash, Barney jumped backwards watching me and the leash instead of the traffic, and a car clipped him …and went on ignorant of the havoc it put upon the pathetic dog. I had thought it only had ran over his tail at first. He howled... And howled! hopping around.

In a kind of dazed shock, I realized one of his hind legs was fractured and dangling helplessly. I was converted instantly into someone I didn’t even recognize who snapped into action, taking the leash, I swiftly wrapped Barney’s mouth muzzling him, as injured dogs bite what ever is close, then picked him up with one arm, while slipping my other arm around him and splinting his broken leg with my free hand.

I then ran up to a young man who had just pulled up to the market in a Volkswagen, not if he could drive me, but if he knew where Dr. Norris’ office was. He did, I think, or knew I’d tell him how to get there. I clambered into his back seat holding Barney who was quivering in pain. Wendy jumped into the front seat, and the man drove us to good ol’ Dr. Norris’… and on a Sunday again. Thank goodness Norris was there… I think he was always there. He was the finest Vet I ever knew even though he confessed that what he knew about some small animals, like guinea pigs, “…wouldn’t fill a thimble.”

I thanked the young man profusely and said I'd call to get a ride from here. Dr. Norris took me and Barney with Wendy in tow into the examination room. Checking out the break, he called the Ashe’s to ask if they wanted their dog treated. I couldn’t blame him for that, as I think if I had a pistol, I’d have put the poor dog out of his misery in the first place. That horror, though, showed me that in a tight situation, I was no longer a Mrs. Milktoast.

The Ashes said yes to his question, and, since I’d sent the Volkswagen driver along, my husband eventually came down to pick me up. I left poor Barney to the Doctor’s tender care. Later that day when telling Karen about how sorry I was about the situation, I broke down into tears, feeling Barney’s injury was totally my fault. I loved Karen. She was a beautiful and gentle blonde woman who had humility that gave me the impression that she had no idea how impressively lovely and gentle a person she really was. She was surprised that I blamed myself or even felt that way, as she too felt guilty that she had let Barney out running, and reassured me that what happened was no fault of mine.

Because of Barney’s injuries still in the process of healing, when the Ashes moved, Barney stayed with us. I had one of those old dangerous accordion type baby gates stretched across the top of the stairs from the balcony out back. Rather than a plaster cast, Barney’s leg was set in a wire frame which outlined his whole leg, and wrapped in something like an ace bandage with a sticky side. This apparatus was lightweight enough so Barney could habble around somewhat, but he missed chasing rabbits. One time when the day was nice enough to leave the sliding door to the balcony open, Barney went out… then he must have tried to jump over the baby gate, causing the wire contraption to get caught in the diamond shaped crisscross holes of the kiddie-gate, and there he was, howling again in pain and fright, and was suspended above the steep stairs of the balcony. I extricated him from this cursed trap. Those gates have since been taken off the market as they were so dangerous. The wire outlining Barney's leg was just a little bent, and I hoped and prayed it hadn’t affected the healing of his break.

His yowling stopped immediately, and he was able to still comfortably hobble around. I was relieved, but decided from then on, each day I’d carry him down the hill to places where he wouldn’t get hung up on bushes or jammed between rocks, and would let him sniff around, feeling the warm sun on his body, hoping it would help him heal faster in giving him a little hope.

I told the Ashes about the kiddie-gate incident when they came to pick him up. Whereas he seemed just fine--no worse off for wear--they were just glad to be able to take him off our hands. A vet local to their new home near Syracuse took over his care. His leg not only healed, but Barney lived many more years, and got to know every backyard and alley within a two mile are of his new home. I doubt if he found many rabbit trails in their suburban neighborhood, but there were cats, and rats, and skunks--several raccoons--and many other dog pals with whom he could roam.