I need to preface post by saying that Bella is gonna be okay – she is well on the road to recovery. And by saying a big thanks to everyone who called emailed etc. to check in on her and especially to Carrie and Dara who took such good care of her.
She is gonna be okay, but she has been really sick. We’re still not sure what caused it or why but a few days ago she developed what appeared to be a nasty – but not completely unordinary – UTI. Then her temp skyrocketed and her white cell count went up up up and off the charts. I was really really worried about her. Our friend, (also Bella’s vet) was really worried about her.
Wednesday night I spent the night getting up every few hours to check her temperature. I slept in my clothes ready to race off to the emergency vet at the first sign of it going up. By morning she seemed to have turned the corner, but still pretty miserable and not at all her usual high energy, pig-dog self. So we took one more trip to the vet – just to be sure.
Coming home I decided to try a short cut. Now, ya’ll may or may not know my track record with short cuts. Suffice to say they are not always shorter, but sometimes they really are. They are usually much prettier and tend to be full of adventure.
I was tired and not really in the mood for adventure so I should have known better.
The road I attempted to zip on down was closed. So I found myself zigging and zagging on back country roads that I hoped, were moving me back toward the main road. None of the roads seemed to be coming out where I expected and so many seemed to just end. So yeah, I was a bit lost. And rather frustrated. I was also trying to hurry having just told Abby I’d come by and pick her up.
So when I came up over the small hill I was probably going too fast. Okay…no probably, I was. Still one does not expect to find a donkey standing in the middle of the road. Slamming on my breaks so hard that poor, sick Bella fell off the back seat I managed not to hit it.
I confess that I drove around it and for a moment started to drive on. I try to be a good friend to the animals we share this planet with. I try to help where I can. And I’m a bit of a “stray magnet” – I’ve found lots and lots of stray dogs and cats that I have returned to their homes – or found them foster homes, or new homes. And I’ve rescued stray horses and a goat…. but I was stressed and the dog was still not feeling well… and it was really really cold and – oh, shit. I cannot just leave it where it can so easily get hit.
I park the car off to the side and get out – come on donkey. Ya know how they say donkeys are stubborn? Well, they are. At least this one was. I’m trying to pull it, to push it, to startle it… anything. No joy – this donkey ain’t moving.
Now, for some reason I take this very personally. Suddenly, everything I’ve been stressed about – the bank, the dog, things at home all comes flooding in. I am standing in the middle of the road pushing on an ass and sobbing.
Really. Sobbing. Nose running, loud, hysterical sobbing. And it dawns on me how funny this all looks. So I start laughing. You know, snorting, crying, woman on the verge kind of laughing…. and yes, I am still crying.
At this point, as I am clearly losing it I say out loud to everyone and noone — really out loud. I need some help here… donkey, goddess, universe… anyone. And the donkey moves. Slowly by pulling, pushing, begging, prodding… I get it to a house w/ a padock, and horses.
I put donkey in with the horses and go to the door. At boy opens it. He looks to be about 12 or so, and seems to be home sick from school judging from the red nose, and general look. He is at that age where one bounces from hating everyone to being too cool, to being embarrassed just to exist – let alone to have some crazy lady show up at your door with a donkey.
He opens the door just a crack, and the chain lock stops it from going further. “I have a donkey” I start to say. He looks like he is going to shut the door fast, so I talk faster. “What I mean is I found a donkey. In the road. My dog is in the car. She is sick. I can’t deal with a donkey. I put it in with your horses. I’m leaving it here. Is that okay….” I say this all in a rush, one breath – really fast. The boy grunts. Really he grunts. I take this as a “yes, it’s fine.” And I leave – With one less donkey.