When I woke up in the morning, I went downstairs and slipped Joey out the back door into our enclosed back yard so he could take a pee until I could walk him. I noted a good day, a beautiful Spring morning, the sun now starting to rise high in the eastern sky.
One half hour later, I opened the 2nd floor deck door look out and say "Hi Joey!" and to see him run upto the house, wagging his eager tail.
My eyes reached across the yard for Joey's usual spot under the apple tree. No Joey! My eyes panned the backyard - no Joey! No movement I could perceive. My eyes then panned in a downard direction to the steps just outside the back door and there - on the wrong side of the fence - sat our beautiful chocolate Lab, quietly. Just sitting. And looking up at me. Joey is on the wrong side of the fence, I thought to myself. Joey is on the wrong side of the fence. This couldn't be good.
I left the deck in an instant, ran downstairs, opened the door to the outside yard, ran down our three little steps, and pulled open the gate to "the other side". There he sat. Rather relaxed, actually. A closer look revealed a bloody and injured dog - big brown eyes looking at me intently, and trustingly.
What happened next? For that, you will have to read quite accurate Joey's description in his blog.
It wasn't until the veterinarian at the Rotherwood Animal Hospital showed me proof that our dog had been hit by a car that I actually believed it.
That is, until the astute veterinarian showed me where the car had run over and broken three of his toes, I had thought maybe a wild animal had attacked him, since there are woods all about our home and we've seen and heard deer, coyotes, fisher cats, wild turkeys and all sorts of animals on our street.
It was daytime though, and not entirely probable.
Joey, to be sure, didn't recount or offer any hints as to how he had been hurt - or even if he was hurting or feeling pain inside.
And that's when everything started changing - for me. And - down the road (metaphorically speaking) - for Joey.
Of course my husband and I had a lot of questions and no answers: What direction did Joey go in when he tunneled out? Had he actually run into the street? What street had he been on when he got hit?
It wasn't until the ensuing weeks that my husband and I actually learned what had happened that Spring morning because the only thing that mattered in the beginning, those first days, was that Joey get the medical care he needed.
Please continue with "Visiting Our Dog in the Animal Medical Center."