SANDY

 

Sandy was chosen by our son, Dwight, who had inherited severe hemophilia. He asked for a dog every so often during his eleven years growing up, but to me, I was already run off my feet dealing with Dwight's internal painful bleeds that averaged one to two a week. I thought dogs were big, took lots of care, and were a trouble to have. I was a cat person.  At my wits' end, trying to decide what to do after two knee surgeries had gone bad to correct chronic internal bleeds that kept flaring up, I remembered Dwight's wish for a dog.  By now, Dwight had to use a wheelchair or crutches to get around, his left knee was stiff and bent, and he spent the days doped up from constant pain meds needed to keep his pain under control. I missed my fun-loving, hyper boy and desperately wanted him back. The orthopedic surgeon had given us six weeks before he insisted on doing another knee surgery.

I ached to see the spark of life once more in Dwight's eyes. So, I agreed to get a dog, a small dog. We had looked at and considered different dogs. One day, my husband came home and told me about some people who bred lab puppies in the area. They had a six-month-old pup left that they were willing to give us when they heard about Dwight. I was busy making supper, so Dana took Dwight to see this pup. Guess what? About half an hour later, with big smiles, they came home with the pup. I looked at the big paws on the six-month-old lab and asked, "Just how big does a lab get?" Because of her unique, sandy-looking color (as most labs are black), Dwight named his dog Sandy.

The first thing I discovered is that pups love to chew on things, when I found teeth marks on my wooden porch rocking chair, anything they could get their teeth on.  But how could I stay angry at a dog who every morning sat outside the front door waiting until Dwight came out. Instead of staying in bed all day, now propped up with pillows, Dwight would spend the day on the porch swing with Sandy keeping guard beside him. 

Soon, Dwight was slowly walking down to the yard, on crutches, as Sandy ran wild circles around him. In the afternoon, he began to lie on the ground to rest, using his six-month-old pup as a pillow. Then, hanging onto a crutch, Dwight tried to play with Sandy. I was afraid that this exuberant, strong puppy could potentially hurt Dwight if she jumped on him, so I tried to keep a close eye on them. One day, I ran outside, hearing Sandy barking and whining, and found Dwight on the ground where Sandy had knocked Dwight over. That was the last time Sandy played rough with Dwight. After that, she was always careful with Dwight.

A couple of weeks later, Dwight asked my husband if he could raise the seat on his bike, as with his bent knee, he couldn't pedal the bike. The raised seat made it where he could sit and balance while using his foot to push the bike. Dwight began "walking" Sandy out of the driveway and then down our gravel-dirt road. Soon, he was pedaling the bike with one foot and then with both feet, taking Sandy for a walk each day further down the road. As Dwight rode his bike, Sandy would run in circles around him, until after days had passed, they were both racing up and down the road together, with Sandy barking, having a huge doggy grin.

Six weeks later, we took Dwight back to the orthopedic surgeon.

The specialist's jaw dropped when he saw Dwight walking into the examination room.  The surgeon turned to me and asked, "What on earth did you do to make Dwight able to walk?" I replied, "Well, you're never going to believe this, but we got a dog." The surgeon kept shaking his head in amazement as Dwight, all smiles, showed how he could bend what had been a stiff knee, back and forth.

Sandy saved Dwight from having another knee surgery!

Sandy later became a wonderful mother to the two eight-week-old German Shepherd pups. She always had a generous heart, later welcoming Lucy Lou and Lady to the household as she grew older. 

In her senior years, Sandy began to develop arthritis, slowly making it more difficult to go up and down steps. It was a sad day when we made the difficult decision to let Sandy go to sleep for the last time. We buried Dwight's faithful companion in our backyard.