After the
incident upstate, the whole drive home I knew something was wrong with Wally. He had his ears down and I was so angry at myself that I even thought to bring him on the trip. It felt like the accident was our fault.
The thing about Wally is that he's so happy all the time—so excited and playful that we tend to forget how fragile he is.
When we first adopted him, he didn't know how to play with toys. But now, he loves toys and even sleeps with them in his mouth.
When he first came home with us, he used to run like a bucking bronco. But now he races down the hallway—in a straight line!—faster than lightning as soon as we get off the elevator. Then, he'll stop at the door and nervously sneeze.
Two days after the attack incident was when Wally first let me know there was something wrong. We walked about a block from our apartment and he made the loudest screaming-crying sound I'd ever heard. He just looked up at me and cried so loudly. I didn't know what was going on. I tried laying him down on the sidewalk because I thought he might have stepped on something sharp, but he kept biting at my hands when I reached for his paws. I scooped him up and ran back up to our apartment and I was so scared, I cried and called my mom. Wally was shaking.
My mom said we needed to rush him to the emergency vet. My parents met me there. Noah was supposed to work that Sunday and had already left for work, but canceled and came to meet us instead.
We knew about VERG because we had a friend who also had a rescue dog—also named Walter. They spoke very highly of the staff there, that the staff really cared and that they were the best. VERG is also located in Brooklyn, which is a lot more convenient and faster for us to get to than the big emergency vet in the city.
When we got there, the vets examined Wally. He could walk okay at this point, but kept having moments of pain when he would cry out. We told VERG about Wally's back condition and they said they could do an MRI but they weren't sure he needed one because he was able to walk. My family and I discussed the options and decided to take a more conservative approach and give him a week to recover.
The next couple of days were depressing. Wally wasn't able to walk when we got him outside. I would just cry and say, "Come on, Wally, come to me!" And he would just sit there. I was a mess. I was scared our boy was never going to be the same, and that it was all our fault for taking him to that barbecue.
After a week of steroids and painkillers, Wally seemed to be back on track. He was good old Wally again and we went on a family vacation to Block Island. He was happy to come with us, and we bought him a dog tent to protect him from the sun.
About a month later, Wally all of a sudden became very low-energy and I noticed he'd let out a soft cry every couple of minutes while he was lying down. This happened all through the night and the next day. That next night, around 9 p.m., we decided he was suffering and brought him back to VERG. They examined him and conducted one of those reflex tests, where they positioned his back leg so that the top of his paw touched the ground. A normal dog would correct this awkward position right away. Wally didn't.
The vet told us to schedule an appointment with the neurologist right away, so, the next day, we took him in at 9 a.m. The doctor assumed it was a ruptured disk and told us that if it were her dog, she would take him for an MRI and he'd probably wind up needing surgery. I looked at all the thank you cards on her bulletin board filled with happy dog photos and success stories and then I looked at her and said, "Let's do it."
Wally went in on Wednesday. He had an MRI in the morning and was in surgery by 3 p.m. I definitely called too much to check in on him. Hours later, we finally got a call from our doctor saying Wally was doing really well and that all the nurses love him. We were so relieved. Our little boy was okay!
Noah and I went to visit him that night. Wally was doped up on morphine and his tongue was hanging out. He was hooked up to an IV and had a crazy wound on his back from the stitches. He was in a cage, but as soon as he saw us, he got so excited and moaned with happiness. We carefully opened the cage door to pet him. He was so happy. And we each took turns putting our faces in the cage to let him smell us. But we were getting nervous about how over-excited he was getting and thought we should go. We slowly shut the cage door and Wally started crying. It was a really haunting cry. I knew he'd been abandoned once before and then I felt horrible—like he thought we were doing the same. But there was no way to reassure him that we were coming back. Even when we got back to the waiting room, we could hear Wally crying for us. It was heartbreaking.
On Sunday at 9:05 a.m. we went back to VERG and got our baby. Wally looked great. He could walk and was so happy.
Wally got his stitches out that following Wednesday and he's still doing great. We are so happy to have him back!
Wally's surgery cost $4,500 and we're looking for a way to help defray the cost. We've set up a Paypal account, and there's a donation button on the right.
In the meantime, we'll be posting photos and stories about Wally and his ongoing recovery.
Thank you for reading and please spread the word!
