Who Rescued Whom?...............by Lisa of OBXPuparazzi

Stormy was a dog I rescued from a horrible living situation.  Her owner neglected her terribly and kept her tied outside, with an extension cord that was plugged in and was wrapped several times around a post, to keep her from escaping.  The owner fed it whenever he remembered to, which was apparently not often, and never groomed her.

When my favorite dog, Navajo, had to be put down, I was devastated at his loss.  Stormy's owner offered her to me, and I couldn't say no to her.  She was supposed to be a Golden Retriever and Collie mix, but she was muddy, matted and emaciated.

She patiently tolerated being bathed and clipped nearly bald to release her from a felted mass of fur that encased her like armor.  I nursed her through a very tough heartworm treatment that I wasn't sure she would survive.  Stormy slowly recovered from the treatment, and filled out from a scrawny 46 pounds to a healthy 75-pound dog with flowing golden fur.  You could see both the Golden Retriever and Collie in her then.  She learned how to play with dog toys and developed a sly sense of humor.

Nearly two years later, she returned the favor when I found out I had cancer.  It was found late, totally by accident, and the doctors were concerned that it might not be treatable.  Stormy stuck to me like Velcro while I cried my way through the first few days after the diagnosis.

After my surgery, which was successful, she stayed next to the recliner or laid next to me on the bed as I slowly recovered.  She grew to hate Wednesdays, which were my chemo days.  She would pace and huff when I was getting ready to go, and glare sternly at my husband.

When I returned home, with often barely enough energy to crawl off to bed and sleep until the next day, she would give my husband the most disgusted looks, as if to say, "I knew I shouldn't have trusted you to keep her safe!" and she would curl up next to me, giving Dave "The Look" every time he came to check on me.  If I was restless at night, she was up to follow me around the house.  She took to laying on top of my slippers, to make sure I didn't sneak off without her knowing.  Several times, when I woke up feeling very ill, she would wake my husband.  He and I both appreciated her attentiveness and her good nurse instincts.

Having Stormy's company made a tough time in my life a lot easier to bear, and I like to think she was paying me back for rescuing her from hell on earth.  Stormy had been 9 years old when she was rescued, and lived to the surprising age of 19.  I've always thought that the Lord gave her a whole other life to make up for the first part that was so awful.

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Written by Lisa of OBXPuparazzi on ArtFire where you will find many handmade dog bandanas sewn by Lisa (the crazy dog lady!) and delightful wooden toys made by Dave who is a self-taught woodworker whose intarsia pieces are sought out by galleries in their local area. Be sure to check out these items and more in Lisa's studio and contact her with any questions.