I have two dogs, Bodhi and Saul. They’re littermates, about four years old, and three-quarters mini-poodle, a quarter Australian Shepherd. Saul’s coat is the shaggy blue merle of a shepherd; Bodhi’s is the curly phantom black and gray of a poodle. They’re both leggy and about 17 lbs. with the sensitive feelings and chill vibe of most doodles. Equally down to watch Netflix or go on a hike, they’ve been good companions to us.
Saul’s the lover. Nothing makes him happier than having his whole pack around him. Consequently, nothing makes him sadder than when people he loves leave. One of his favorite people is our adult daughter Claire.
So it makes sense that he was anxious and trying to herd her car back into the driveway as she was leaving. What doesn’t make sense is what happens next.
She hit him.
Hard.
A lot of what happened is a blank spot in her memory. The cameras didn’t record it, only her carrying him back from the house to her car.
She remembers a big thump and him howling in pain. He ran into the house. She threw her car into park and ran after him, afraid of what she’d see and feel when she picked him up.
She called us in a panic, and we met her at a local gas station. She had both dogs with her. Frank—my husband and Claire’s dad—and Claire had to take Saul all the way to a big city—there’s no emergency afterhours vet services where we live. They left and I took Bohdi back home where he circled and circled, trying to find Saul.
Saul and I waited on the couch for the phone to ring.
Eventually, we learned that Saul didn’t break any bones. He had some bleeding in a lung and some fluid in his abdomen, plus a few bruises and a bloody eye. I heard he melted into the med tech’s arms when she picked him up, snuggling and wrapping his neck around hers.
He’s no dummy.
He’s also going to be fine.
He’s hobbling a bit and thinking twice before jumping on a bed or couch. We’re giving him some anti-inflammation drugs and weaning him off painkillers that he doesn’t seem to need. We’re a couple days post-accident now and he’s more and more like himself. We’re restricting his access to the yard to keep him from running around too much. It’s obvious he’s a bit bored but loving all the extra attention and treats.
The night of the accident Claire slept on the floor next to his kennel. The next day she worked from our house, Zoom calling from a makeshift office in her brother’s old room with Saul cuddled on her lap.
There’s a reason she’s one of his favorite people.
Left-brained and analytical, Claire has tried to pinpoint what actually happened. Like I said, it doesn’t make sense. She’s walked the long driveway again and again, backed her Jeep in and out, and watched all the camera footage, but can’t figure out how she hit Saul or why he wasn’t hurt far worse. It’s a 4,000 lbs. Jeep vs a 17 lbs. dog with a big thump at the end that rocked the entire Jeep.
But do we have to know to recognize a miracle when it happens?
Saul says no.
And we’re just eternally thankful.
(Just don’t ask about the vet bill!)
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