VICTORIA.....Victory is Hers
If you're going to be flat out in the market place in Granada, Nicaragua, with a broken leg...exposed bone...nearly starved to death and if people walk around you, their eyes avoiding your pain and the wound that will surely lead to your death....well, you might as well hope that a visiting veterinarian and a vet student will find you before death claims you.
The dirty white dog wasn't making a lot of points with the vendors and customers in the market. They stepped over her, around her, but no one helped her. She was just a larger pile of the garbage strewn on the sidewalk, something to look around or over, but definitely not "at".
If you're going to be flat out in the market place in Granada, Nicaragua, with a broken leg...exposed bone...nearly starved to death and if people walk around you, their eyes avoiding your pain and the wound that will surely lead to your death....well, you might as well hope that a visiting veterinarian and a vet student will find you before death claims you.
The dirty white dog wasn't making a lot of points with the vendors and customers in the market. They stepped over her, around her, but no one helped her. She was just a larger pile of the garbage strewn on the sidewalk, something to look around or over, but definitely not "at".
But Heidi Paulson, a Granada resident, saw the injured dog through different eyes. Those of a veterinarian. Well, almost. Heidi is studying veterinary medicine, and she was definitely in the right place at the right time.
She called me to report the dog. I relayed a call to Lynn Wimmer, a volunteer vet. We clicked.
Lynn and Heidi rallied around the wounded dog, waiting for me to find them among the crowds.
It was worse than Heidi had described. I cringed while they loaded the dog in the back of the truck. But the dog never whimpered or complained, perhaps aware that it was in safe hands.
We headed for Casa Lupita, a place that has seen its share of animal disasters. This one was as bad as any before it.
Lynn assessed the situation and made the decision I didn't want to hear. The leg would have to be amputated. She cleaned it, swathed it in honey, wrapped it with gauze. We kenneled the dog with soft blankets and hoped it would sleep well after a dose of pain meds and an antibiotic.
The next day Lynn removed the leg and spayed her as well, saving her from a surgery down the road. Lynn fashioned a rather remarkable, not to mention comical, collar that prevented the dog from agitating post -surgery stitches. The patient rested well.
In a week-plus time, and in spite of having to re-stitch the amputation wound (obviously the collar didn't work all the time), the dog began to heal and maneuver on three legs. She revealed a personality of sweetness, soothing calm, and a kind of gratitude for a circle of friends that cared enough to save her.
We named her Victoria. The meaning is obvious. She won a tough fight and victory was hers.
Then the bittersweet road of her journey faced us. She would be leaving the comfortable clinic home as soon as we could find a real home for her. Our demands were simple but steadfast for all of our dogs ready for adoption. She would go where love and tenderness would be served with her Alpo, enough to make up for the years when she had no one who cared about her.
She called me to report the dog. I relayed a call to Lynn Wimmer, a volunteer vet. We clicked.
Lynn and Heidi rallied around the wounded dog, waiting for me to find them among the crowds.
It was worse than Heidi had described. I cringed while they loaded the dog in the back of the truck. But the dog never whimpered or complained, perhaps aware that it was in safe hands.
We headed for Casa Lupita, a place that has seen its share of animal disasters. This one was as bad as any before it.
Lynn assessed the situation and made the decision I didn't want to hear. The leg would have to be amputated. She cleaned it, swathed it in honey, wrapped it with gauze. We kenneled the dog with soft blankets and hoped it would sleep well after a dose of pain meds and an antibiotic.
The next day Lynn removed the leg and spayed her as well, saving her from a surgery down the road. Lynn fashioned a rather remarkable, not to mention comical, collar that prevented the dog from agitating post -surgery stitches. The patient rested well.
In a week-plus time, and in spite of having to re-stitch the amputation wound (obviously the collar didn't work all the time), the dog began to heal and maneuver on three legs. She revealed a personality of sweetness, soothing calm, and a kind of gratitude for a circle of friends that cared enough to save her.
We named her Victoria. The meaning is obvious. She won a tough fight and victory was hers.
Then the bittersweet road of her journey faced us. She would be leaving the comfortable clinic home as soon as we could find a real home for her. Our demands were simple but steadfast for all of our dogs ready for adoption. She would go where love and tenderness would be served with her Alpo, enough to make up for the years when she had no one who cared about her.
Soon Victoria wouldn’t notice her missing limb. She may not be up for a game of frisbee in the park, but she would be able to walk without falling over. We knew that for a fact. Our previous three-legged patient, Tripod, is living, tail-wagging proof of that. She now resides in Colorado with a former Peace Corps volunteer where both are happy to have found each other.
A letter went to out to adoption possibilities…through the U.S., to Canada, and to our Nicaraguan mailing list. We weren’t surprised that 10 responses from the U.S. and Canada asked for the honor of adopting Victoria.
Then came a local American ex-pat, Susan Money, and one with experience. She had adopted Josefina from Casa Luta two years ago. Josefina, a scabby street mongrel, changed into a regal princess in a week’s time.
For Susan and Victoria, it was love at first sight. The missing leg wasn’t an issue, not when there was so much heart at stake. A click of a camera caught the proof. Susan knelt down to pet Victoria, and an exuberant, grateful Victoria licked her face.
High in the breezy loft of Nicaragua's Laguna Apoyo …. free of speeding cars and menacing people, Victoria lives like the queen that she was meant to be. May she live happily ever after.
~Donna Tabor
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