That is no idle threat. I got this mutt at 8 weeks old, his stomach was the size of a hardball, I could count every rib on his body, and every vertebrae down his back. His eyes were plastered together from eye snot, and he had sores all over. His ears were literally a clump of scabs on both sides of his head. You couldn't even make out their shape.
The 'person' who owned his dam thought she was helping him, because ever since he was able, he would bite at different places on his body, his fur wasn't coming in, and she thought he had mange. She was bathing him in mange shampoos every day. And was literally giving him chemical burns over most of his body. He wouldn't eat, or drink. I believe he had given up. How could death be worse than being in constant pain from burns?
Turns out he's allergic to fleas. Something she didn't seem to take care of on her dogs.
I spent the next 2 months spreading A&D ointment on his ears, slowly loosening the clump of scabs, and recently spent actual money to get one of his teeth pulled that he somehow managed to break. Dumbass. I've solved every other medical problems with my mutts with a case of lead poisoning.
He sits on my neck if we go in the car, he walks with me if we go to the store, (no leash, but I carry it), he is my constant friend, and he is as important to me as my kids. I know he will pass well before I do, and I will be sad when he is gone. But it will be in his OWN time. He will have lived as much of a pain and deprivation free life as I can give, if I have to deprive myself.
Do THIS to my dog. You better pray to whatever god you can that I don't find you.
I'll gladly hold your coat while you drive the stakes thru his/her wrists and leg bones to pin em to the fire ant hill.
ReplyDeleteThen I'll gladly share a beer with you while lounging in front of the fire and listening to the screams.
Sounds like a helluva good way to spend an afternoon!
ReplyDelete