Last week a boxer was brought in to the animal clinic where Misty works. He'd been shot in the hind leg with a shotgun. His owner doesn't know who did it or whether it was an accident or intentional, just that the dog drug himself home with a huge hole in him, covered in blood.
I was over at the clinic waiting to pick up Misty so we could go home, and she brought me in to see the boxer. He'd been stitched up to some extent, but there was still a hole in him about the size of a silver dollar. The vets weren't going to be able to sew that part up. There was a tube running out of his leg for drainage. It was speculated that he might have to lose his leg.
He needed a friend, so I sat with him for a while, talking to him. He was pretty doped up on pain medication, but it was obvious that he was still scared. He just laid there, though, as if he trusted me.
A few days ago, Misty delivered the news that the boxer would not lose his leg. Today she told me that he was walking again.
Dogs are pretty amazing animals.