Save Our Tails: Timmy

Timmy is making tremendous strides (literally!).

His staples are out -- the incision is fast becoming a barely discernible scar -- he had his first post-op bath today AND took his first leash walk around the block.

That little leg hits the ground and contributes to his stride every third step or so. I have no doubt Timmy will one day run and play. We will return to the surgeon in South Carolina in four weeks for more x-rays and a final assessment.

Right now he is belly up on the dog bed and relishing in his first day without that awful E-collar. Life is good for Timmy.

Timmy and I just returned from a walk down to the boat launch to show Virgil and Betty just how far Timmy has come.
When I told Virgil about Timmy's secret guardian angel -- who paid $1500 toward his $1900 surgery, tears welled in that old man's eyes.

"I reckon there are some good folks left."

"Of course there are, Virgil."

And that moment reminded me of the most important personal benefit of animal rescue: connecting with good people.

There are actually quite a few out there. Each person who contributed to save Timmy, for starters. Thank you. Rest assured, he is saved. Soon enough, the search for his perfect forever family begins. If you are interested in adopting Timmy, please email adoptions@oldfella.org

I am inspired by things that define...words that explain other words and actions of others that show me the way I wish to be.

On Friday I met Timmy -- on Saturday I asked for help -- and by Sunday, the help came pouring in. One call in particular made today possible. You see, today I picked Timmy up from South Carolina Veterinary Specialists where he received an operation to repair his broken hip joint. When I arrived, I was able to present a check for $1500 and then pay the rest out of funds raised by this ChipIn Challenge.

A Burke County family who wishes to remain anonymous donated $1500 to Timmy.

The antonym to Timmy's tormentors.

Timmy's angels.

Thank you.


We will return to the surgeon's office in ten days for suture removal. I will be working with Timmy three to four times a day with physical therapy motions. And then, in six weeks, he will again return to the surgeon's office for more x-rays to check on his healing.


Thank you Timmy's Angels!
(you know who you are)

Timmy and his sister Twiggy are living in a Old Fella foster home.

Twiggy is available for adoption.

Timmy has a broken hip and awaits surgery. The estimated cost of this surgery is $2000.

Please ChipIn for Timmy.

Read his foster mom's account of how she met Timmy & Twiggy.

I try to view the hard challenges as lead-up to the great lessons. Lately though, I wonder about the conclusions life ushers me to draw. I don't need practice being jaded.

This is the story of my introduction to this dog (Timmy)....

On Monday I was out walking dogs and mediating on fence posts. My cell phone rang -- it was a Midville number. 478-589...... I answered to the sound of a voice I could tell never got used to the idea of speaking on the telephone.

It was Virgil.

Virgil and Betty run the service station that sits at the top of the boat launch into the Ogeechee River. Straight out of Fried Green Tomatoes.

Some dogs. Two, in fact. Last Friday, Virgil saw a truck roll down to the boat landing -- toss out two puppies and take off. One black -- one white. The white dog ran toward the truck as it sped up the boat ramp. That truck ran right over the little white dog. Virgil witnessed it. Said the little dog flopped around screaming in agony for several long and tortured minutes.

By the time Virgil was able to get down the boat ramp, the dogs were gone--scampered into the tall brush that lines the curve of the river.

A dog. One, actually. After Virgil finished telling me this, he asked me to come down to the river. The black one was back. Could I help this dog?

I detoured to the river and down the boat launch. A little black head with bright orange eyes popped out from around the base of the bridge. She was no more than 5 months -- petite with spindly legs capped off by little moppy feet. She reminded me of a resident of the world of Dr. Seuss. I called to her in a gentle falsetto. That was all it took. She danced up the boat ramp and didn't hesitate to follow us back through town to my house. I named her Twiggy.

On Friday, Virgil called again. The white dog returned. Could I help this dog?

I put Twiggy on a leash and we walked down to the river. As a approached the old service station, Betty waved from inside the garage. She had a skinny white dog leaning against her legs. He had the head of a Beagle and the body of a short haired Bird Dog. His face had the markings of a bandit's mask. And his tail was beating a mile a minute.

Virgil came out of the station, keys in hand to drive me and the two dogs back to my house. This little dog can't really walk, he explained. I think his leg is broken.

Me and Twiggy hopped into the cab of that late 60s blue Ford pick-up and Betty lifted the little white dog into my lap. I was struck by his angles and bony juts. His skin was drawn taut against ribs and spine. The bones of one hip were boldly defined. But the other hip was rounded out to the size of a ripe melon.

His front leg had a angry red gash -- swollen and slick. His body was covered with abrasions and his hind end eaten up with bites--probably from hours immobile while ants ravaged his skin.

Despite all, this little dog made no whimper as we drove over the bumpy road to my house. I carried him into the house and set up a bed at the end of the hallway. I drew a warm bath and dumped an entire can of sea salt in it and gently lowered his worn out little frame into the tub. I could feel his muscles relax as the buoyancy took away some of the pain of gravity on a broken frame. We soaked all of his wounds in that warm salty water for the better part of 20 minutes.

From the tub to towels to bed. He ate--drank--and fell fast asleep. His relief was visible.

The next morning--yesterday--I drove Timmy to Dr. Ford's in Waynesboro where I left him for the afternoon. She put him under to get a better idea of what was going on with his injury.

I picked him up later that day -- and his prognosis is still uncertain. He goes back to Dr. Ford on Tuesday for X-Rays (her machine was down yesterday). She thinks we will probably have to do surgery to put Timmy back together again, as his hip is broken. He will most likely need a Femoral Head Osteotomy.

A modest estimate of the cost of this procedure is $2000.

I have faith in the compassion of Old Fella supporters, friends, family and the strangers who understand.