Saving Sadie Read online

  Negative media coverage, we knew, would be worse than no coverage at all and could actually set back Sadie’s cause significantly. We realized that not everyone understood or approved of putting so many resources into saving one disabled dog when there were so many people in need, and we had to always be prepared to handle any negative backlash.

  And then at last the article appeared! Sunday, August 19, 2012, we had front-page coverage yet again, with Burt’s column in the lower right-hand corner of the cover of the Daily Herald. Beneath the byline Burt Constable’s Suburban Stories was the headline, AFTER SHE WAS SHOT IN HEAD, SADIE’S NOW RELEARNING TO WALK. And below the headline was a cute photo of Sadie sitting in the grass and “smiling,” with a yellow bandanna knotted around her neck.

  My eye jumped down farther and I saw that the article itself got right to the point: The only thing veterinarians know for certain is that shortly after giving birth to her litter of puppies, the lovable mutt known as Sadie was shot in the head . . .

  As I read onward, my excitement grew. The article did a terrific job of relating Sadie’s backstory, how she and I met, her ongoing treatment and therapy, and her hopes and prospects for the future.

  “Sadie, you’re an absolute star,” I told her as I carefully refolded the paper and smoothed out any creases, saving it for Sadie’s burgeoning scrapbook that was now bursting at the seams with photographs, notes, articles, printouts, and clippings.

  Sure enough, we saw a bump in donations and online traffic after the Daily Herald article ran. By now Sadie’s presence was global, and she was receiving messages and support from places as far away as Russia, China, Ireland, Switzerland, Canada, Norway, England, France, and Australia, in addition to her fans and supporters in almost all fifty states.

  * * *

  Labor Day weekend 2012 offered the perfect opportunity to sit back, relax for a few days, reflect on the incredible summer we’d just had, and refocus our energies for the remainder of the year. As of Sunday, September 2, 289 people had donated a total of $7,300 to Saving Sadie via our ChipIn account, while many more had contributed via checks to the credit union.

  Originally we had earmarked those donations for surgery to have Sadie’s leg amputated, back when we thought that would be part of her rehab plan, but once that option was off the table, we refocused our fund-raising on supporting Sadie’s ongoing care. Fortunately, Sadie’s friends and contributors totally supported that decision. Like all of us on Team Sadie, they only wanted what was best for her.

  I thought it was important to take some time over that weekend, during a rare and precious quiet moment, to sit down on the floor in the living room with Sadie at my side, surrounded by brown paper grocery bags full of the hundreds of letters of support and encouragement that people had sent. I held Sadie’s head in my lap, resting her chin on my knee and stroking her velvety ears as I read the messages to her aloud. Sparky stretched out along my other side as Kit Kat and Miss Kitty observed from a distance, perched on either arm of the couch, paws folded serenely beneath them as they gazed on us and blinked sleepily.

  None of us really knows how much dogs truly comprehend of human speech; perhaps nothing more than a handful of trained commands. (Even though they give us those sweet, innocent looks with their cocked heads and expressive faces, when we just know they are only pretending not to understand what we’re saying.)

  I believe with all my heart that dogs can sense, experience, and interpret emotion, intuiting and responding to their person’s feelings in a form of communication that goes far deeper than anything mere language can ever touch; when it comes to dogs, it is truly possible to talk without ever uttering a single word.

  Sadie’s supporters, these people whose names we’d never heard before and whose faces we’d never seen, had taken the time and energy and effort to write to Sadie. They deserved to have her hear their words, regardless of how much of the content Sadie understood. So I randomly grabbed a note from the top of the pile, opened it, and started reading aloud. “This one is from Ann in California,” I explained to Sadie. “It says, ‘You can do it, girl.’ ”

  “ ‘Sadie, you are so brave.’ From Megan in the UK.”

  “ ‘Give Sadie a big kiss for me and tell her I love her, and I will pray every night for her, always.’ That’s from Brooke.”

  “Your ‘adopted Aunt Linda’ writes, ‘Please give Sadie hugs and kisses for me.’ ”

  I wanted to keep reading, but I couldn’t see through the tears filling my eyes. The love, care, and affection for Sadie that I could feel in these simple yet heartfelt words were overwhelming.

  “What a miracle you are, Sadie,” I whispered to her, staring down into her deep amber eyes. “And to think, just a little over four months ago you were considered a throwaway dog, a piece of living, breathing garbage, with nothing to offer the world, doomed to spend the rest of your life locked in a metal cage at a shelter, just waiting to die. And look at you now! If only more people could see you and understand the power of what love and faith and hope can make happen in the world.”

  Sadie wagged her tail, seeming to understand. I pulled her into my lap and wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tight. I let her stay up well past her ten p.m. bedtime that night, reading note after note full of tender hope, fervent wishes, and endless good cheer. “Sadie, you are loved,” I told her simply as I finally kissed her forehead and tucked her into her bed. “You are nothing but loved in this world.”

  The next day we were back to therapy as usual, Power Plate before breakfast, swimming, peanut ball, massage, and a few new exercises I had invented, too. But when I made her work for food to go up the stairs, something changed. On the second-to-the-top step, after much cajoling from me, Sadie raised herself from a sitting position and went up the final step all on her own! I still held out my arms to make sure she didn’t fall, but she had clearly taken the final step under her own power. “You did it, Sadie, you did it!” I walloped in joy. She seemed a little startled by my outburst, but I stroked her and ruffled her fur to let her know it was okay. “You are my amazing girl!”

  I had always referred to her weak, shaky back legs as “noodles.” I guessed that now those wiggly noodles were firming up and becoming “al dente”! I couldn’t wait to share this amazing news with all of Sadie’s fans and followers in my Labor Day newsletter that I posted on our website the next day.

  After giving a recap of Sadie’s exciting breakthrough, I ended with, “For all of your encouragement, I say THANK YOU to each and every one of you! YOU are the people who made this happen! Thank you for all of your kind words, funding, and love that made this very special moment possible!”

  I was truly humbled by the support we were receiving, and realized that all my years of fiercely proud independence had prevented me from truly understanding what teamwork was all about. “It takes a village,” indeed. This was just another of Sadie’s remarkable gifts to me, during this time when I was “supposedly” saving her. Clearly, the reverse was true, and she had led me to a higher purpose, lifting me up from the somewhat mundane and predictable life I hadn’t even realized I was living before she came into my world. One helpless, hopeless little dog had truly blessed me beyond anything I could ever have imagined.

  * * *

  Ever since I had met Lisa and Noah, the young man injured in Iraq, at Jammin’ on Janesville in July, I had been meaning to visit Acres of Hope and Aspirations, the nearby rehab facility that Lisa owned and where Noah and many other brain-damaged people worked to relearn and regain the basic life skills they had lost due to traumatic brain injury. Finally, in early September, the perfect opportunity presented itself when I was invited to a silent auction and fund-raising event there, where the special guest speaker would be the nationally known stand-up comedian Dobie Maxwell.

  As soon as I entered the grounds of Acres of Hope and Aspirations, I knew I was someplace special, a place where magic happened every day. Set on nearly five acres of dense, rural, beautifully rugg
ed woodland, the complex included a rehab center, a log cabin, and a small working farm, along with relaxing gardens, a large pond with a fountain, and glorious waterfalls.

  Lisa, a registered nurse, had started the center in 2010 after years of working with brain-injured people and witnessing firsthand the toll these injuries took on people’s lives, personally, professionally, financially, and emotionally. She was committed to creating a warm, nurturing, supportive environment—completely opposite to the cold, clinical, sterile environment of most hospitals and rehab centers—where the beauty of nature and the love of animals could play a major role in the healing process. Care at Acres of Hope and Aspirations was available as day treatment, respite care, or short- and long-term rehabilitation, and all care was provided by RNs, CNAs, and certified rehab case managers.

  Acres of Hope and Aspirations’ two mottos were Where Healing Is Nurtured by Nature, and Where Ordinary Rehab Is Transformed into the Extra-Ordinary. I thought to myself, The mottos are certainly appropriate—this place IS extraordinary. I wandered the grounds, feeling the first chill of autumn in the air and noticing the first edges of orange, red, and goldenrod in the leaves of the majestic oak and maple trees. Everywhere I turned I was struck by the understated grace and beauty of the place—the solemn, therapeutic gardens, colorful eruptions of wildflowers, and narrow, winding, muddy paths that led deep into the forest’s dark and shadowy heart.

  As beautiful as the setting was, though, it was the numerous animals that delighted my eye and stirred my soul, all uncaged, unrestrained, and wandering the grounds freely—pet deer, a miniature donkey, ponies, duck, geese, chickens, tortoises, peacocks, cats, and rabbits. The animals were part of “Creatures of Rehab,” a program of animal-assisted therapy that Acres of Hope and Aspirations offered its patients.

  By helping care for the animals, the brain-injured patients enhanced their cognitive skills and self-esteem while simultaneously receiving the love, support, and nurturing that the animals provided. Some of the animals were even disabled themselves, including Queenie, a blind Shetland pony who gave rides to children while being led around the grounds by her seeing-eye guide, an enormous potbellied pig named Batman, and Kisses, a miniature donkey who limped due to a disabled hoof.

  My heart was touched so deeply by what I was seeing, and the possibilities that were unfolding right in front of me. Magic. It was absolute magic, pure and simple. These animals, just like Sadie, have a special role to play. They can be inspiring, they can be symbolic, they can represent hope. Their very presence can be therapeutic. They can touch people on a deeper level, reaching inside to a place beyond words, especially for adults and children with special needs, who may not be able to communicate verbally or in traditional ways. These animals can help people heal their broken bodies, repair their damaged brains, and soothe their troubled souls. This is all part of Sadie’s mission. I need to find a way to make it happen. I need to do this—I have received a calling, and it is my life’s work now.

  * * *

  Later, when Dobie Maxwell, the comedian performing that night, came onstage to do his show, he was amazing! A Milwaukee native now based in Chicago, he toured nationally with his stand-up routine, having appeared with famous comics such as Jay Leno, Jerry Seinfeld, Chris Rock, and Tim Allen, to name a few. It was his love for, and commitment to, animals that brought him to this fund-raising event in little old Muskego, and I had an inkling that he could become a valuable addition to Team Sadie. I just had to get up the courage to ask him.

  When he finished his set and came offstage, I swallowed hard and approached him nervously. I asked if he’d like to learn more about Sadie and then handed him one of Sadie’s business cards. Dobie, a tall, gregarious guy with slicked-back brown hair and a big, booming voice and an even bigger smile, immediately put me at ease with his warmth and kindness, banishing my nerves.

  As we talked he was very interested in Sadie, and even suggested Sadie and I join him as guests on The Mothership Connection, the Sunday-night talk show he hosted on WLIP, an AM radio station in Kenosha. (I later learned that Dobie had been involved in a near-fatal car accident in 1993. He was badly injured and it took him six months to learn to walk again—no doubt he was relating to Sadie’s saga on a deeply personal level.)

  Dobie suggested I be a guest on his show along with his friend Asia Voight. Asia Voight! Of course I knew of her, the famous intuitive guide and animal communicator. It would be an incredible opportunity to have Asia do a reading with Sadie and help me understand what Sadie was thinking and feeling about all she had gone through and the things we were doing now to rehab her. Dobie and I exchanged contact info and he promised to call me in a few weeks to schedule the radio show with me and Sadie and Asia.

  As I drove home that evening, excited to tell Sadie all about my amazing day, I thought about all the incredible people I was meeting: brave Noah and his struggle to walk and talk again after a horrific injury; Lisa, a devoted nurse who’d built a sanctuary of hope, healing, and second chances in the leafy Wisconsin woods; Dobie Maxwell, the warmhearted comic with the razor-sharp wit and the broad, generous soul; and now Asia Voight, world-famous inspirational speaker and medium.

  All this is because of Sadie, I thought in amazement as I pulled into my driveway and doused the headlights. None of these people would have come into my life without her. This is Sadie, working her life-altering magic on me yet again.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Mothership Connection

  The autumn and winter of 2012 was a busy time for Sadie and me, full of several significant milestones. She continued to make progress in her rehab, slowly but steadily. Her legs had strengthened and improved so much that she was now placing the bottoms of her paws on the ground to walk, maybe not every time, but most of the time. This meant that the chronic abrasion she’d had on her back left leg from dragging it had healed so much that I no longer needed to cover it with a vet wrap.

  We were still working on her stair exercises, and her “al dente” back legs were more stable now and had started reaching for the next step, which was a huge improvement. By the second of November, she was able to do one full step on her own, without my help. I truly felt that we were on the verge of a major breakthrough and that Sadie would be walking again very, very soon. I was confident that all the toil, sweat, and tears of the past six months were about to blossom into something wonderful.

  The most extraordinary thing that happened during this time was that Sadie got out of diapers at last! The vets (other than Dr. Jodie) who’d first seen Sadie projected that, because of her spinal injuries, she’d be urinary and fecally incontinent for the rest of her life. But Sadie proved them wrong, wrong, wrong! She had been gradually gaining better control over her bodily functions, and so I had been able to keep her out of diapers for longer and longer periods of time during the day. It was mostly at night when she’d have problems, or first thing in the morning, when her bladder was too full for her to go on her own and I had to help her empty it.

  Dr. Laurie from TOPS had recommended a homeopathic remedy for dogs with urinary incontinence called Leaks No More, and that had helped greatly. Now Sadie was staying dry all night and then rushing down the stairs by herself in the morning when she needed to go. I would let her outside and she would urinate without any help! She had been detoxing on her own almost since the beginning, so now she had achieved true independence in the “bathroom department.”

  I think my constantly reinforcing the command of “go potty, go potty” had helped Sadie make the connection, along with watching Sparky “go potty,” too. I was so proud of what Sadie had accomplished! Not to mention how much easier it made my life, no longer having to diaper a nearly fifty-pound dog several times a day.

  Meanwhile, in addition to all our at-home efforts, Sadie was now back to swimming several times a week at Think Pawsitive while also still getting intensive treatment at Dr. Jodie’s and at TOPS. Originally we had thought Sadie would only need to go to TOPS unt
il the end of October, but she was doing so well, and making so much progress, that we decided to continue her treatments there for at least the rest of the year.

  For all the fantastic physical progress Sadie was making, I noticed the biggest improvements in her mental and emotional state. There was no longer any trace of the blank, empty-eyed, detached Sadie I had seen at the shelter and in our first days together. She was now a bright, energetic, curious dog who loved people and loved life and never complained about her limitations. She adored trips in the car, when she could sit up tall and straight and press her nose firmly against the window, watching everything that flew by in a state of delighted wonder.

  Sadie savored every little detail in life, from the smell of fresh-cut grass to a sticky hug and sloppy ice cream kiss from a toddler to a dish of raw food placed in front of her. I had had dogs all my life, but I had never seen a dog eat the way Sadie did. Most dogs bolt their food like crazed lunatics whose lives depend on devouring the entire meal in under twelve seconds, but Sadie actually took her time to smell and taste and thoroughly chew every little morsel, reveling in the pleasure it gave her.

  I often felt that Sadie understood the fate she had been saved from, and having that awareness allowed her to appreciate life so much more than most humans do. Animals, especially animals like Sadie, have so much to teach us about our own lives, if we would only listen.

  * * *

  Gearing up for the holidays was especially fun with Sadie around. There were so many people to reach out to and thank for all their support during the year. I decided a good way to do this was through a mass Christmas card mailing. I didn’t have the budget to hire a professional photographer and designer, so I plopped a Santa stocking cap on Sadie’s head, gave her a teddy bear, and posed her beneath the Christmas tree in the front lobby of Dr. Jodie’s clinic, then took a photo. I used that photo on the front of the card along with the phrase, “Don’t Stop Believing,” and then inside I put a reproduction of Sadie’s paw print with the message, “Greeting you with my paws extended for this holiday season and all year long. Love, Sadie.”