Saving Sadie Page 12
Together Sadie and I signed, addressed, and mailed over 250 cards to friends, family, and Sadie supporters worldwide. I wished we could do more and thank every person individually, especially all the people who had donated money toward her care, but for now, this would have to do. “Next year,” I promised her, “we’ll find a way to do even more to thank your friends and fans.” In my mind I was thinking, Next year we’ll be sending out a Christmas card that shows Sadie standing up and walking. What holiday gift could be better than that?
* * *
Dobie Maxwell, the comedian I’d met in September at Acres of Hope and Aspirations, made good on his promise to keep in touch and have Sadie and me as guests on his program along with famed animal communicator Asia Voight. Our first appearance was scheduled for Sunday, December 16, but Sadie and I actually made our first radio appearance a week earlier, on a different station, WKLH, a classic rock FM station in Milwaukee.
That appearance came about when my friend Chris and I attended a fund-raiser at a local concert venue a few weeks earlier, for a police officer who’d been severely injured on his way home from work when he was struck by a wrong-way drunk driver on the expressway. At that fund-raising event WKLH was auctioning off a Sunday-night spot on their popular program, Hey Mom, I’m on WKLH, and Chris and I were the winning bidders!
So on Sunday, December 9, Chris, Sadie, and I took our places behind the microphone with the host for the six-to-seven-p. m. show. I was a little nervous, this being my first time on the radio, but I so appreciated the opportunity to share Sadie’s story with an increasingly wide audience. We had been determined to extend our media outreach beyond newspapers and the Internet, and now here we were, establishing a presence on the radio, too.
Part of the fun of being guests on the program was getting to choose my own playlist of songs from the many thousands in WKLH’s library. I didn’t want to just choose random songs, or songs that were necessarily personal favorites; I wanted to somehow honor Sadie with my choices, even if only indirectly.
After much thought, I settled on Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’,” Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run,” Joni Mitchell’s “Help Me,” “O-o-h Child” by the Five Stairsteps (for the line “things are gonna get easier . . .”), “Imagine” by John Lennon, and a handful of others. Chris was initially horrified when I told her I wanted to use “Legs” by ZZ Top, because of the line, “She’s got legs, she knows how to use them,” in reference to Sadie.
“Joal! You can’t use that—it’s horrible,” Chris complained.
“Why not?” I replied. “Sadie’s story is not all doom and gloom. Sadie has a sense of humor—she likes to make people laugh. I actually sing this song to her all the time and she thinks it’s hilarious. So why not play it on the radio?”
Having convinced Chris, I added ZZ Top’s “Legs” to my playlist. Between playing the songs and sharing Sadie’s story with listeners all over Southeast Wisconsin, the hour passed quickly and in no time, it was over. Sadie had been so perfectly well behaved in the studio, greeting everyone like a pro and sitting quietly at my feet while we were on the air, I had no qualms about pursuing future radio and even TV appearances for her. Clearly, Sadie was a media darling in the making.
* * *
After WKLH we were excited, gearing up for our next radio show, scheduled for the following Sunday on WLIP AM 1050 with Dobie Maxwell, when the unimaginable happened. On December 14, a deeply troubled young man named Adam Lanza walked into Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut, and murdered twenty children and six adults in cold blood. Like the rest of America and the rest of the world, I was shocked and horrified beyond belief as I watched the news unfold.
As a mother and grandmother myself, I couldn’t begin to imagine the anguish and grief of those families, to lose those sweet, precious little lives in such a violent and brutal way. I wondered, too, about the killer, about what could make someone so young act out with such rage, hatred, and hopelessness. I knew there were a lot of adolescents like Adam out there, even if most of them didn’t express themselves through such extreme measures.
It was said that Adam, like many young men who commit mass murder, had been teased and bullied in school. “Kids need to feel welcomed and embraced, whatever their challenges and differences,” I said to myself. “They need to hear and learn the message that being different is okay. Sadie, in overcoming her challenges, can be an example of that; she can teach people, especially kids, how to embrace differences. That’s an essential part of her story.”
I believe that was the first moment I realized that Sadie and I would eventually take up the banner of the anti-bullying movement, but I just wasn’t sure yet exactly how to make that happen. Even with all of Sadie’s remarkable progress and improvement, her care was still essentially a full-time job, and given my other “real” full-time job, I couldn’t yet see how we could take on even more challenges and add more commitments to the mix. For the moment I just needed to be patient and have faith—everything would happen, in its own time.
We were still reeling following the news from Newtown, and our hearts were still heavy with grief two days later, on Sunday, December 16, when Chris, Sadie, and I drove to Kenosha to appear on Dobie’s show, The Mothership Connection. The show tended to highlight subjects with a paranormal theme (hence the name), but since it was Dobie’s show, he was free to book guests on a wide range of topics, and given his support of animal issues, Sadie was a natural fit.
Unfortunately, Asia was not able to join us for the show that night, but Dobie promised that he’d get us all together on the show sometime in the future. We could have chosen to do the show remotely, via telephone, but Chris and I (and Sadie!) decided to drive to the studio in Kenosha to appear in person, so Dobie and everyone else could meet Sadie and she could work her magic on them, just as she had on all the folks at WKLH.
Dobie’s show was a blast! Again the hour passed so quickly, and we found that Dobie is a real showman, a natural entertainer, and a genuinely nice man who was so kind, warm, and funny, allowing us to tell Sadie’s story and really connect with his audience of devoted listeners.
The news got even better two days later, when Dobie featured Sadie in his “Dobie Maxwell’s ‘Dented Can’ Diary,” a blog/column he regularly wrote for onmilwaukee.com, Milwaukee’s biggest and best known online digital magazine. The blog post was titled, “Sadie Steals the Show,” and after providing a bit of Sadie’s backstory, Dobie wrote, Sadie was pure magic and made everyone feel great. She has a very tangible vibe that radiates from her at all times, and she was the undisputed star of the evening from the instant she got out of the car and limped up to the door of the radio station.
“Sadie!” I shouted to her as I read the computer screen in my study. “Dobie says you were the ‘undisputed star of the evening!’ ” She smiled and wagged her tail. I continued reading in earnest.
Seeing her in person and feeling her wonderful energy was one of the most inspiring moments I think I’ve ever had, Dobie’s article continued. She will be an inspiration to all who see her. Normally I would have squealed with delight at reading those words, but my throat was too clogged with tears for me to even utter a sound.
What a beautiful article, and a beautiful tribute. I spent so much time with Sadie on a daily basis, twenty-four/seven when I wasn’t at work, that I sometimes felt I had developed a type of tunnel vision where she was concerned. Of course to me Sadie was beautiful and wonderful and remarkable and inspirational, but I was her mom and I loved her, so my opinion was not exactly objective. Maybe other people saw her as just an ordinary dog, or worse, as a disabled dog with a multitude of special needs, a dog who sucked up lots of valuable resources and had nothing meaningful to offer in return.
But when I read an article like Dobie’s, or saw some of the hope-filled and inspiring messages posted on Sadie’s Facebook page, or watched the way Sadie interacted with special needs people like Noah from Acres of Hope and As
pirations, all my doubts and fears and reservations disappeared. Other people were able to feel and experience and be moved by Sadie’s magic; they only had to be willing to open their eyes and their hearts wide enough to do so.
* * *
When Christmas 2012 arrived I was fortunate to be able to spend the day enjoying a fantastic Christmas Day brunch with my extended family—daughters, sons-in-law, grandchildren—at my older daughter Joey’s home, celebrating as we always did, with a formal brunch in our pj’s, drinking mimosas and coffee and opening presents under a gigantic tree. Joey is a natural-born hostess, and she knew just the right touches to make it an extra-special event.
It was wonderful to share quality time with my family when we all had such busy lives, but there was some discomfort in the air as well. We didn’t talk much about Sadie, but I got the sense that my daughters were still coming to terms with Sadie and the way she had completely taken over my life. I was sorry for the tension it was causing, but I truly believed that ultimately they would see that all the effort on Sadie’s behalf would be worth it in the end. Until then, we were all slightly walking on eggshells around one another, and that caused me deep sadness and concern.
One of the highlights of my Christmas was spending quiet time at home with Sadie, Sparky, Kit Kat, and Miss Kitty. My special gift to Sadie was a sled, just a kids’ plastic sled from Target. The wonderful Beth, a local law enforcement officer, had sewn a custom-made cushioned fabric insert for the sled with an attached blanket that featured Sadie’s paw print in green (her signature color). The insert had shiny red ribbons on the edges so it could be tied down and secured inside the sled, thereby keeping Sadie warm and protecting her from all the bumps and other rough spots in the snow.
On the day after Christmas I took Sadie to a local dog park, where I let her try out the sled for the very first time. The weather was perfect for sledding, with bright, unfiltered sunshine filling the sky and temperatures just above freezing. The air was crisp and quiet, all harsh sounds muffled, right angles softened, and sharp edges blunted by a fresh, downy shroud of snow. The trees in the distance were shorn of all leaves but still managed to look elegant, their branches encased in lacy gloves and frozen sleeves of ice.
As I pulled Sadie in her brand-new sled up the gently rolling hills packed hard with snow, the air was fresh with notes of evergreen and peppermint, and my breath came fast as I stomped through the rutted tracks and frozen impressions of heavy-soled boots. Initially I thought Sadie might be scared of sledding, but she absolutely loved it! She took to the sled like it was made for her, sitting up tall and proud as I pulled her to the top of a hill and gave her a determined push.
I laughed so hard when the sled hurtled down the hill like a bowling ball and people scattered like pins to get out of her way! I ran down to the bottom of the hill and as soon as I got there, Sadie refused to get out of the sled and instead begged me to take her back to the top again.
This dog park was a kind of hidden gem, located in the Milwaukee suburbs on the county grounds, where for years an old sanitarium stood, a looming, shadowy, dark-windowed relic of the Victorian age, a time not so different from ours, when people with diseases and differences were shunned, shamed, and marginalized, left to wither in institutions until they died, conveniently out of sight and out of mind. Just like what would have happened to Sadie, had fate not intervened, I thought with a shudder.
After a few trips down the hill, I guided the sled to flat land and after pulling Sadie for a short distance to introduce her to the feeling, I took off at a run, sprinting across the open field, building up speed so she could feel the breeze parting her fur and the wind buffeting her face.
Sadie absolutely loved riding fast on the sled. Her tongue wagged, her eyes glowed, and her whole body seemed to vibrate with life, energy, and excitement. I had never before seen her so fully engaged, so fully immersed, in anything.
Then I realized that Sadie must love this feeling so much because it reminded her what it felt like to run. She wasn’t born this way, hobbled, hopping, and reduced to dragging herself across the floor. I had only known her in this diminished state, but she had had an entire life before I met her, a life where she was tall and straight and strong, a muscular hunting dog with powerful legs that propelled her forward, from a slow trot to a loping gallop to a flat-out run, racing through the rough Appalachian hills of her home, sniffing out pheasants and badgers and fleet-footed hare. That memory still lived somewhere deep inside her, like a dormant muscle just begging to be exercised, a tiny flame always flickering, waiting for someone to throw open the doors and let oxygen rush in, whipping that nascent flame back to full, glorious, blazing life.
We were both exhausted, invigorated but also spent, as I pulled her in the sled back to the parking lot and popped open the hatch on my SUV. I lifted Sadie from the sled and placed her inside, then I jumped in and sat beside her with my legs dangling over the edge, knocking snow from my boots and rubbing my mittened hands for warmth. Our breath was visible, clouds wreathing our mouths as we watched the sun dip, tipping toward its early, post-solstice descent into darkness.
I wrapped my arms around Sadie’s shoulders and cuddled her for warmth. “Thank you, Sadie,” I whispered against her ear, “for making 2012 one of the best years of my life. You have taught me so much, inspired me to dream bigger, to try so many new and different things. In exchange I promise to make your 2013 amazing, and to make it the year you will walk again.”
CHAPTER NINE
Sadie Goes to Asia
The year 2013 began with a bang, and a full slate of Sadie meet-and-greets, now taking place every two weeks at various Pet Worlds around southeastern Wisconsin, along with other personal appearances, interviews, and media bookings. We scored a major coup with our first TV interview and profile on Today’s TMJ4, Milwaukee’s local NBC affiliate. This was a huge step forward in our plan to expand media coverage of Sadie beyond print and Internet to radio, television, and more.
Today’s TMJ4 reporter Stephanie Graham met us on January 9 at the Pet World in Menomonee Falls, during one of Sadie’s regular meet-and-greets with customers, staff, and the general public. With us was Jessica, the massage therapist for humans who had been giving Sadie massage as part of her ongoing therapy.
Stephanie and her cameraman spent a long time filming Sadie in action, from her being massaged by Jessica and demonstrating her attempts at walking to being wheeled in a shopping cart and interacting with kids. Stephanie also interviewed me on camera, asking about how I found Sadie, the logistics of her care, how she had changed my life, and so forth. Afterward I felt the interview had gone really well, but as always we couldn’t know how the final product turned out until we actually saw the segment on TV, and as always we worried a little bit about negative media coverage and the impact something like that would have on Saving Sadie.
It was a bit of a wait, but on January 22, the story was finally broadcast! I was curled up in bed in my flannel pj’s, anxiously clutching the remote and with all the animals huddled around me for warmth as our segment began. We had scored the all-important Special Assignment spot on the ten p.m. newscast. “Okay, guys, this is it!” I said, turning up the volume.
Longtime Channel 4 anchorman Mike Jacobs, looking distinguished in his dark blazer and colorfully striped tie, introduces the piece. “A Muskego woman has made it her mission to save a dog that nobody wanted,” he begins.
Muskego woman—that’s me!
Co-anchor Carole Meekins continues, “Susan Kim has an inspiring story of perseverance.” The camera cuts to reporter Susan in the studio, positioned in front of a wide screen with SAVING SADIE in large block letters among a collage of Sadie photos. “What started as a tragedy is now a blessing for a Muskego woman and her special dog,” Susan reports. The scene moves to Pet World, with Sadie relaxing on a Turkish carpet as Jessica gives her a luxurious, head-to-tail, deep-muscle massage.
“Sadie! There you are!” I squealed, pointing the r
emote at the screen. “Look at you, Boo-boo!” I was dazzled by how telegenic Sadie was. She truly looked amazing on film, with her glossy black fur and warm brown markings clear and vividly defined. She gazed straight into the camera as her amber eyes lit up and her face glowed, intelligent and expressive.
“For Sadie, I have to be careful when working the neck muscles,” Jessica explains. “There’s some extra straining going on there, just because she can’t use those hind legs.”
Now cut to me with Sadie in a shopping cart. “Believe me, this was not on my bucket list, to rehab a paralyzed dog,” I say, stroking her head. “It just wasn’t. However, she’s just very thankful, and that’s what makes it all worthwhile.”
Despite her challenges, you can tell this persevering pooch is very happy, and loving her second chance at life, Susan explains in voiceover.
“She’s just taught me so much,” I add, rubbing Sadie’s shoulders as she sits up in the shopping cart looking absolutely adorable. “She just will not sit down in the car because she’s absorbing all the traffic and everything that life has to offer. She has taught me we have to love not only animals and people, no matter what kind of baggage they have, and I think it’s absolutely huge, because we all have baggage.”
Back to the anchors in the studio. Carole Meekins says with an admiring smile, “Well, Sadie does have some guardian angels.”