This is Whimsy. Also known as the "cutest ugly girl ever", Piglet, and Pinky, Whimsy is a pit bull. She is one great dog. I worry every day about how long she'll be with me, even though she's only nine months old.
Whimsy came to me Aug. 4, 2007. She was four months old and in very sorry shape. I had known her as "Princess". She came into a veterinary clinic I was working at in June. I took one look and fell in love with this poor little puppy. Itchy, covered with sores, she still had a happy face, pathetic though she was. We started treatment for sarcoptic mange, dispensed antibiotics, and sent her home with instructions to come back the following week. They did. That was the last we heard of her until the clinic received a call from the Humane Society of Huron Valley in July, after her owner was reported due to her poor condition. Had the HSHV taken her, she would have been euthanized. Despite the awesome work they do there, they would have had no choice, since she had a difficult to treat, contagious infection that could have spread to the entire shelter, affecting both dogs and cats. Silly me, I just couldn't let that happen. I talked to the investigator on the case, a great guy named Matt. He was willing to work with me to try to save this poor pup. I didn't want another dog. I really, really didn't want another dog. After talking to her owner's and believing them when they said they really loved her, it was just that they had no money, I agreed to drive to their house on the south side of Ypsilanti on a weekly basis to treat her, if her owner would just give her the antibiotics that had been prescribed. My goal was to keep her in her home.
Well, after two weeks of trying to treat her in their home, I received a call from her owner saying he "didn't know if she had been poisoned or what, she just wasn't moving much anymore. Would I come get her?" I went that night to pick her up. Pulling into their driveway, there she was, 30' from Grove Rd., loose in the driveway. She walked slowly to me, wagging her tail. At this point she was covered with weeping sores from head to toe. She was missing most of her hair. Her belly and the insides of her legs were covered with hundreds of small pustules. All her lymph nodes were enlarged ("puppy strangles"). Her eyes were running. In addition to the sarcoptes, her overwhelmed immune system had allowed demodex, a mite all dogs have naturally, to take over. And she stunk. Boy, did she stink. Her owner handed me the antibiotics I'd brought for her. In 2 weeks, they'd given her a total of 3 of them. Sitting in a crate beside me on the way home, I told her over and over that I would help her while she gazed at me with intense brown eyes set in an "elephant man" head.
It's been 5 months since I brought Whimsy home. I can't remember why I didn't want another dog, because she is my "Mary Poppins" dog - practically perfect in every way. She is much improved, although she'll never be 100%. She'll always be our black and white and pink girl, since I think she has about 1 hair for every 5 a normal dog has. Her skin, especially on her face, is thickened and wrinkly, and always will be. The scarring has partially blocked her tear ducts, so she needs artificial tears. Although she is healing, her immune system is still compromised, and any little scratch or scrape seems to turn into an infection. Injections, twice weekly baths, eye meds, so many pills that when she saw me coming with one she'd yawn, so you could pop it right down, through it all she was a trooper. She's a good, good girl, who, since I live on a corner with a lot of pedestrian traffic, instantly found herself with a large group of supporters who've cheered every improvement she's had, and commiserated with every setback. Who knows, with all her problems, how long she'll be with me? I don't care. I'm just determined that for as long as she is, her life will be the best I can give her. Playing here with her best friend, Olive, she seems happy, don't you think?
There are so many "Whimsy's" out there. And there are so many ways to help. Even if you don't have room for one in your home, maybe there's room for one in your heart. Call your local shelter. They always need volunteers. If you don't want to volunteer, ask them what's on their "wish list" of items they need and go shopping. Whatever it is you can do, just do it. Every little bit helps.
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