Saving Sadie Page 15

  Undaunted, I began contacting the airlines directly via email. My emails began with, “I’m interested in taking a flight to New Orleans with my dog, Sadie. Let me tell you a little bit about Sadie first. She was found in Kentucky after being shot in the head and the back after delivering a litter of puppies . . .” People needed to be introduced to Sadie, they needed to know her background and her story to understand why this was so important.

  Every person I contacted replied personally and said, “What an amazing story.” But even though they were touched and amazed by Sadie’s story, they were unable to help. So I put this project on hold for the moment, but I had every intention of coming back to it in the not-too-distant future. Sadie was clearly ready to spread her wings, in more ways than one.

  * * *

  Later that autumn Dr. Jodie recommended that we take Sadie to be evaluated and assessed at the prestigious University of Wisconsin School of Veterinary Medicine in Madison. Dr. Jodie wasn’t concerned that anything in particular might be wrong or that Sadie was failing to make progress in her rehab. She simply felt that now that we had been working with Sadie so intensely for eighteen months, this would be a great time to get a second opinion about where Sadie was, rehab-wise, if there were other treatments and therapies that we should be trying, and what her prospects and prognosis looked like for the future.

  I thought this was a fantastic idea and couldn’t wait to do it. I had always felt that there was a missing piece in terms of Sadie’s ability to walk, something that, if we could just figure out what it was and address it, would allow her to ambulate again like a normal dog.

  We were able to arrange an appointment for the end of October. I was really excited and optimistic, looking forward to what the doctors would say and to finally getting Sadie some much-deserved answers.

  Looking back at it now, I realize I probably should have taken the weather that day as an omen for what was to come. It was Halloween, Thursday, October 31. The wind howled, dark clouds massed overhead, and intermittent sheets of rain lashed my SUV as Dr. Jodie, Sadie, and I drove the hour and a half to Madison. Sadie was her usual curious, chipper self as she sat up straight and tall in the back with her nose pressed to the window, her breath fogging the glass as she intently watched the world flying by.

  The appointment itself lasted for several hours as Sadie was tested and evaluated by a team of neurologists and several other veterinary specialists. As this was a teaching hospital there were also dozens of veterinary students there observing and coming in and out of the exam rooms at all times, adding to the chaotic atmosphere.

  Sometimes Dr. Jodie and I were allowed to be in the room with Sadie and sometimes not, depending on what they were doing to her, but Sadie was a trouper regardless, even when one of the vets pressed down as hard as possible on Sadie’s back legs to gauge her pain response. As a mom, it was really hard for me to watch my baby being forced to endure this, even though intellectually I understood that it was a necessary part of the examination. I couldn’t wait to take Sadie home and give her extra kisses and cuddles that night, along with all kinds of treats for being such a good girl.

  The vets seemed especially interested in evaluating how Sadie walked, or tried to walk, as they placed her on the floor and she demonstrated, reaching forward with her front paws. Her back end moved up and in, propelled forward by her upper body as her lower body followed with her left leg dragging behind on the ground.

  As the doctors watched and took notes, Sadie traversed the length of the exam room. They also asked a lot of detailed questions about Sadie’s diet, therapy, treatments, and exercises. I emphasized how we had focused on maintaining her upper body strength to help compensate for what her lower body lacked. I also told them about her wagon and the Walkin’ Wheels, which she still hadn’t embraced, even though we worked with them a few hours every week, trying to increase her comfort with the device.

  When at last all the testing and evaluation was finished, I asked Dr. Jodie how she thought it had gone. The doctors had promised to email me the full results in a few days, so I was just looking for her first impressions rather than anything definitive.

  “I thought it went really well,” she said with a satisfied nod. “I’m interested to hear what they thought, but I’m not expecting any major surprises.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I replied. “I’m just hoping they have some new ideas and recommendations for what it will take to get Sadie walking again.”

  Over the next few days I was so busy scheduling Sadie’s meet-and-greets and arranging interviews and media coverage for her upcoming appearances and events that I almost forgot about our trip to Madison. I just happened to be checking my email late on Saturday afternoon, November 2, when I saw that I’d received something from the UW-Madison School of Veterinary Medicine. Okay! I thought excitedly. At last we’ll get some answers!

  After reading the brief cover letter, I downloaded and opened the attached pdf. Nothing in the world could have prepared me for what greeted me inside that document. The words stole my breath away, shattering my heart into a million little pieces. Some of the medical and veterinary jargon was hard to interpret, but most of what was written couldn’t be clearer:

  DIAGNOSIS

  L4-S1 myelopathy

  Paraplegic, deep pain negative

  Secondary to historical gunshot and shrapnel injury

  COMMENTS

  Sadie has no deep pain or voluntary motor in either pelvic limbs. The motions she makes with the hind limbs when she tries to walk is a reflex called “spinal walking” that she is unable to voluntarily control. Unfortunately, the chronic nature of her injuries and neurologic status indicate that she will never be able to regain the ability to feel her feet or walk voluntarily with her pelvic limbs.

  I stopped reading. I stopped breathing. Never be able to regain the ability to feel her feet or walk voluntarily. No. No. No. My spirits were crushed. Not my Sadie. Please, God, how can this be? I’ve spent literally every waking moment of the past eighteen months working with Sadie to get her walking again. And now the doctors are saying that will never happen. They are telling us there is no hope. Has all this been for nothing, then?

  * * *

  Forcing my eyes back to the screen, I continued to, “Additional instructions and comments.”

  Sadie’s ability to move about unassisted is wonderful to see. Unfortunately, we have no therapies to offer that will bring back the ability to use her pelvic limbs voluntarily.

  E-stim or other therapies directed towards regaining voluntary motor of her pelvic limbs are unlikely to have any effect.

  No therapies to offer . . . unlikely to have any effect. I reread those words as my eyes burned with tears. Steeling all the courage I could, I scrolled to the final page and read the results of the physical exam:

  Non-ambulatory paraplegic. Able to walk on thoracic limbs while dragging pelvic limbs . . . Severe muscle atrophy of pelvic limb musculature.

  Non-ambulatory paraplegic. The vets are calling my baby a paraplegic. A paraplegic who will never walk again. How dare they steal her hope?

  Devastated, I logged off, closed the computer, and went downstairs, where Sadie was relaxing, snoozing beside Sparky as they spooned in a patch of sunlight, so rare and so welcome on a November late afternoon. I sat down next to Sadie and pulled her into my lap. “I’m so sorry, Sadie,” I whispered gently, stroking her head. “But I’m not ready to give up on you. Doctors are often wrong. Remember all the experts who said you’d be urinary and fecally incontinent forever? Well, you proved them wrong. The experts can be wrong about this, too.”

  As I stroked her head and massaged her shoulders, I felt the deep heat of her fur where the sun had done its magic, warming her deep down to the skin. She turned her head and gazed up at me with her soft, drowsy, golden amber eyes, blinking slowly.

  Suddenly I recalled something Keri Davis had said during her reading of Sadie. Keri had emphasized that Sadie’s journey was more a
bout her changing me, forcing me to open my mind and my heart, than it was about me rehabbing her, or returning her to the state of physical wholeness that she’d existed in before she’d been shot. That was the message I’d been missing, the real message embedded deep within Keri’s words. “Sustain Sadie, support her, and let her be who she needs to be,” Keri had insisted. “Where there is acceptance, true healing begins.”

  “Oh Sadie, why did it take me so long to understand?” I asked in a broken voice. “You are whole; you are perfect just the way you are. You are perfect even if you never walk again. You have been perfect from the day I first found you.”

  I was the one who was lacking, not Sadie. I was the one so focused on one goal, getting her walking again, that I totally missed the big picture. But now the scales had fallen from my eyes and the truth appeared to me with crystal clarity. “We’re no longer going to wait, wait until you’re perfect, until you’re healed, until you can walk again,” I promised Sadie. “The next phase of your life starts right now. Your mission is too important to postpone any longer. You don’t need to stand on four legs in order to get your message across.”

  I hugged her again, holding her close and pressing my chin against her forehead. “Thank you, my perfect Sadie, for being just the way you are. Thank you for being my greatest teacher, and for teaching me the most valuable lesson of all.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Going Gaga for GooFurr

  The results from our meeting with the neurologists in Madison were devastating, but in truth I hardly had time to think about that as we moved into the 2013 holiday season. This year the holidays were even busier than they had been during Sadie’s first Christmas with me the year before. We sent out over five hundred Christmas cards to friends and supporters around the country and around the world as more and more people had joined our mailing lists and donated funds at the credit union or online.

  We marched in several Christmas parades that season, including the Muskego Christmas parade, for which our friend Beth decorated Sadie’s wagon so it looked like a sleigh while Sadie dressed up as Santa with a red stocking cap and fake white beard. I, of course, dressed as one of Santa’s reindeer, pulling “Santa” in her sleigh!

  Events like these weren’t just fun ways to get out and meet people; they served an important marketing purpose as well. I had enlisted the help of numerous “elves” to hand out little packages of Dr. Jodie’s natural pet treats along with Sadie information cards to people along the parade route, introducing more and more people to Sadie’s remarkable story.

  Sadie was also invited to participate in the Trees of Hope charity event that Christmas. We were given the opportunity to create a Christmas tree with a Saving Sadie theme, and then beautiful ornaments for that tree were made and donated by Sadie supporters all over the world. Once Sadie’s and all the other trees were decorated, the trees were auctioned off, with the money raised going toward cancer research. Sadie’s supporters were beyond generous in this cause and we received literally hundreds of stunning ornaments for her tree.

  The Trees of Hope charity was founded by Karen and Gene Wenzel in honor of their daughter, Lindsay, who died of leukemia in 2010 at the age of thirty-two. It meant so much to Sadie and me to be a part of something like this; although what the Wenzel family endured was very different from Sadie’s situation, we shared with them the desire to promote hope and healing, and to create something positive out of personal despair.

  During this season we were also doing tons of meet-and-greets, especially at Pet World and other stores that were jam-packed with holiday shoppers, and we had started visiting a number of local businesses as well to do meet-and-greets with employees and staff. Sadie just has such a special ability to inspire people and cheer them up; a boring old office full of tired and overstressed employees was transformed into a party as soon as I entered wheeling Sadie in her wagon.

  I couldn’t believe how much fun Sadie and I were having. I had expected I’d be starting to wind down by this time in my life, cutting back, thinking about retirement. Instead, I was busier, more active, more engaged, and more fulfilled than ever. I was working on something so much bigger than me now, and that made waking up each day a new and exciting adventure. It was an honor and a privilege to be the one helping Sadie work her magic.

  I never would have imagined, that day at the shelter back in 2012, that this was where we’d end up. I thought I was going to rehab a disabled dog; I never dreamed I’d be changing the world. But Sadie was a force to be reckoned with, and I was just grateful that she had chosen me to join her on the ride.

  * * *

  But even with all the fun we were having, the hard work of rehab never let up. Despite the discouraging prognosis from the vets at the University of Wisconsin hospital, we chose not only to continue Sadie’s intense treatments, exercise, and therapies, but actually to increase our efforts. I still believed there was a chance that Sadie could regain enough strength and feeling in her spine and back legs to walk again, even though that was no longer our primary goal. Sadie had already proven the experts wrong so many times before.

  And if it were true that she would never walk again—especially if she never walked again—it was vitally important that she maintain as much strength, flexibility, and mobility in her limbs and upper body as possible, so she could continue doing all the things she could do. Therefore, her schedule never slackened as she kept pace with swimming, acupuncture, aqua puncture, e-stim, physical therapy, massage, and our various at-home exercises.

  We had also gotten some new, custom-made braces for Sadie’s back legs from a place called Paws to Embrace. She made it clear she did not love them, but they were useful, especially in helping her to stand when we did exercises that involved stretching and reaching for spoonfuls of peanut butter.

  Sadie was also still taking more than twenty-five vitamins, minerals, and supplements twice every day. It usually took me about forty-five minutes per session to get all these pills and tablets into her, by hiding them in raw meat and feeding her each pill individually with a special spoon. I never knew for sure how many of the pills actually ended up inside of Sadie and how many of them ended up on the kitchen floor.

  But then Dr. Jodie introduced me to a new product she was carrying at the clinic called GooFurr and suggested Sadie and I try it. GooFurr was a delivery system for pills and supplements. It had been designed primarily for cats but worked just as well with dogs. GooFurr comes in a tube and is a paste made of smoked wild salmon, cornstarch, and water. The pill or supplement is crushed into powder, mixed with the GooFurr paste, and then fed to the animal (or, in the case of cats, the paste mixture can also be spread onto the fur where the cat will lick it off and thereby ingest the vitamin or supplement).

  When I took GooFurr home and tried it, Sadie loved it immediately! Perhaps because she loved canned cat food so much, the salmon flavor of the paste appealed to her right away and she happily consumed her crushed-up pills. For me the product was a godsend, cutting down my dosing time with Sadie from forty-five to ten minutes per session, freeing up more than an hour of my day in total time saved.

  I was so impressed with the product that I wrote to the inventor and founder of GooFurr, Barbara Capelli, and asked her if I might get a discount on GooFurr if I ordered in bulk. She very kindly sent me a large shipment of the product, and we started a casual correspondence. Just a few weeks later she asked me out of the blue, “How would Sadie like to become the official celebrity ‘spokes-puppy’ for GooFurr? That way you could join me in Hollywood in January to help promote GooFurr at the gifting party before the Golden Globe awards.”

  What? The Golden Globes? I was floored. I hadn’t known Barbara long, but I was intrigued by the possibility. Barbara explained that GooFurr had been selected to be one of the products given away in the “swag bags” at the gifting party that would be held for celebrities and other VIPs at a swanky Beverly Hills hotel the day before the Golden Globes awards ceremony. I wouldn’
t be able to bring Sadie along, unfortunately, but I could bring Sadie’s business cards, flyers, and postcards, and talk to as many people as possible, not just about how much Sadie loved GooFurr, but also about Sadie’s story overall, further raising her profile at the national level.

  This was just too good an opportunity to miss and we quickly made arrangements for the trip. Barbara, who’s originally from Italy, was now living in Hawaii so we met in Los Angeles. It took some juggling to rearrange my work schedule and also make arrangements for Jeff to babysit Sadie, Sparky, Miss Kitty, and Kit Kat while I was away, but, happily, all the pieces fell into place.

  When Barbara and I finally met in person at our hotel in Los Angeles, we clicked immediately, and I knew Team Sadie had just discovered another very valuable member. Barbara was an unassuming, earthy woman with thick, brown, shoulder-length hair and a lovely, mellifluous Italian accent. The gifting party itself was incredible, held on January 11, the day before the Golden Globes award ceremony, upstairs at the Andaz West Hollywood hotel on Sunset Boulevard. I saw more celebrities than I could name, and had a chance to talk to Jo Anne Worley of the ’60s TV show Laugh-In and Joan Van Ark from Knots Landing.

  The gifting party was truly a whirlwind experience, something like a very upscale trade show, as we set up our display in a large ballroom with plush carpeting and low, elegant light, and spent the whole day talking to hundreds of party guests—actors and actresses and behind-the-scenes Hollywood people—and handing out gift bags, promoting GooFurr to everyone we met. Everyone who received a gift bag received a complimentary tube of GooFurr, along with a postcard insert with Sadie’s photo, her testimonial about the product, and our Saving Sadie website URL.