The animals are counting on you!
On the lighter side, submitted by Sandi O'Brien1. If you like it, it's mine.
2. If it's in my mouth, it's mine.
3. If I can take if from you, it's mine.
4. If I had it a little while ago, it's mine.
5. If it's mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.
6. If I'm chewing something up, all the pieces are mine.
7. If it just looks like mine, it's mine.
8. If I saw it first, it's mine.
9. If you are playing with something and put it down, it automatically becomes mine.
10. If it's broken, it's yours.
We told you about Bertha, back in the summer of 1997 - hers was a story we were very hesitant to tell. I had her picture safely tucked away, as I had tucked her story safe within my heart. I had vowed to myself that this was one story that would remain unwritten, in deference to those who had gotten to know this sweet dog during her stay at the shelter... and perhaps more so, for the heartbreak that I myself felt.
The animal control office that brought the stray brown dog to the shelter said ruefully, "I don't know if there is anything you can do for her, she's due to have pups anytime, and from the looks of her, she's been out on the street a long time..." As he turned to walk away, he gave the dog another look, pausing to add, "but she's a very nice dog."
We all stared at the emaciated brown dog that stood before us... a walking bag of bones with a big belly. She was about six years old, and had definitely led a hard lfe from the looks of her. We had planned to change all of that. To begin with we had to give her a name... we dubbed her Bertha. We knew that as pathetic as she looked, underneath all that, we could see that this dog had a heart of gold, but little did we know what else her heart held.
Bertha went in for her checkup, but none of us were prepared for what we would hear. She was not pregnant! Bertha had a very severe case of heartworm, that had taken a major toll on her body, affecting more than just her heart. Her body was severely bloated from all the fluid around her heart, and her kidneys were failing. The chances of her surviving treatment were non-existant. With heavy hearts we made the decision on what had to be done. It was not an easy decision to make, but we did it out of love. We had to put Bertha to sleep.
Then why are we bringing this up now? As mentioned in the fall 1999 issue of Paw Prints, we had a greater influx of dogs with heartworm last year than ever before. The majority of the affected dogs were strays, but there were also a few that were owner give ups. (Of course on the owner give ups they "failed to tell us" that their dog had heartworm). Although in the majority of cases heartworm is curable if caught soon enough, but... it costs money. To treat a dog with heartworm costs a minimum of $400.00 on up. Treatment is also time consuming, and the dog must be kept quiet during the duration of the treatment period, which is about a month. We often wonder if that isn't the reason why some of these dogs were abandoned by their owners, the cost and time factor.
Bertha did not die in vain. Her memory will live on. We are starting the Bertha Fund, to provide treatment for dogs brought to T.L.C. and found to have heartworm. If you would like to contribute to this fund, please let us know. Others will live through Bertha's legacy.
Our Hostesses Annie Coleman and P.J. Fitzgerald did a great job, running the raffle and showing folks where the refreshment table was. We also want to thank Claire Paskiet for the items she donated for the mini-raffle. Thanks again to each and every one of you for helping Santa take care of the critters at the shelter.
