Wednesday, May 17, 2006

And You'd Think Burbank Was Safe...

I mentioned my dogs in the previous post; I had a collie my oldest niece named Barbie, so that was that. And here is the photo I end up posting. I moved from Chicago in the summer of 1999, when Barbie was four, because I got tired of living across the street from a kid who ran a crack house while his mother worked in City Hall and several instances involving semi-automatic weapons on neighbors front porches made me worried more about my nieces than my somewhat-immortal self. I think a little of my "Unbreakableness" rubbed off on my dog. I'm now five blocks east of the big, bad city, in bucolic Burbank. I turned 40 on 9/9/99 and three days later, my dog started barking when two local thugs tried to steal something from the widow Debo's garage. (After she died, her son sold the place, and it became that Czech rabbit farm for awhile). One of the guys--they both were caught at another garage break-in--stabbed Barbie twice to try and shut her up, so I can imagine what might've happened to frail Ruth Debo. The vet put tampons into the puncture wounds and later put 211 stitches into my dog. He took the tampons out and inserted a kind of rope inside of Barbie, and I would pull on either side of the rope several times a day to keep the blood from clotting. Through that winter, Barbie wore my Superman t-shirt so her wounds would stay covered. She survived, but died of cancer three years ago yesterday. The photo I posted is one that reminds me of the vileness in so many humans. I would force feed Barbie crushed codiene tablets and lay on the living room floor with her as she whined, not truly understanding what had happened to her. I felt cheated that, after surviving the stabbing, that cancer would take her so soon after. I have had dogs that lived over the course of three decades. But I will always remember sleeping with my collie in the Superman shirt for weeks on end...Wayne


Blogger chris said...

People are so cruel. I'm sorry about your loss. I am a pet owner myself and I understand the attachment.

Thursday, May 18, 2006 10:28:00 AM  
Blogger ├ůsa said...

Wayne Allen Sallee: I'm so sorry to hear what happened to your pooch! That is awful! Good thing they finally got caught. Dogs are such survivors and endurers. I don't know what I would do if anything (more...) happened to my dog Simon. (he already has a steel-rod in his back leg).

Hope you feel better soon.

Thursday, May 18, 2006 10:53:00 AM  
Blogger Chris said...

for the trifecta lets have another dog photo/story for the next post.

Friday, May 19, 2006 11:43:00 AM  
Blogger Ormondroyd's Encyclopedia Esoterica said...

First sadness, then anger at the hurt inflicted on the uncomprehending Good Dog Barbie. My own much beloved Best Dog Ever lived more than 16 years only to drown while in the overnight care of an estranged relative. I don't know why such things happen to the innocent like Barbie, but such things enrage and sorrow me more than anything else in the world. I think this horror at the suffering of innocents is what Shakespeare was trying to describe with Lear's speech at the death of Cordelia, why certain "beloved" politicians will turn on the spits of Hell forever, why the Tibetan rinpoches say becoming a spiritual warrior means that at some point your heart will be broken by the world. God Bless.

Friday, May 19, 2006 6:33:00 PM  
Blogger snowywoodz said...

How sad. And she was such a sweet looking girl too. You're a good dog owner. People suck.

Saturday, May 27, 2006 11:42:00 AM  

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