These are the first pictures that I ever saw of Ginger. Her uterus ruptured and she had emergency surgery; only one of her puppies survived. I still don’t know how Ginger ended up in the shelter. Sometimes we don’t ever get the story. It doesn’t matter though. Look at her. Defeated. Think about her in a shelter cage, her tiny puppy so exposed. I showed these pictures to my husband and we got in the car and I drove well over the speed limit to get to the rural shelter before it closed for the evening. He kept telling me to slow down. I kept saying ok, and going faster. I didn’t want them to have to spend another night in the shelter.
The lady at the shelter slowly led her out to me on a lead. Ginger was exhausted, still recovering from her surgery. She had a long line of surgical staples across her stomach, and the tiniest little squirming puppy I have ever seen. Ginger allowed us to lead her to the car, because we held her puppy. She was lost. We brought them home and put them in a room separate from the other dogs. They were curious. Ginger growled at them, protecting her pup. She would’t eat. I tried a few different things. She would take a single piece of dogfood from my hand, but ignored the bowl of food. She just laid with her puppy; I named him Moose. He was so tiny. I wanted him to have a big, strong name to grow into. Moose was nursing and sleeping, his little eyes closed tight. He was the size of my hand, a little longer, not much. Just 9.15 oz.
I spent part of the night on the couch, and part on the floor next to Ginger and Moose. It reminded me of having a new baby, only this was in some ways harder. I was not the one nursing. I could not tell if Moose was latched on well, if he was warm enough, if he was breathing. I kept checking on him all night. I was worried that her milk wouldn’t last, because of the emergency spay. We had tiny baby bottles ready, and the nipples were too big for him, but he looked like he was nursing, and I knew that was best for both of them. Tiny Moose wriggled and squirmed his way up to his Mama. She kept him warm. She would lick him all over, pick him up in her mouth and move him. I was so worried about that, but of course that is how a dog moves her puppy.
You have to look closely to see him, but he’s there, snuggled.
I only had one night with little Moose. He passed quietly on a Saturday morning. I picked him up to check on him, that he was warm enough. He wiggled a tiny bit, and then he went still. We cried. A lot. Could we have done anything? Was it my fault? Should we have left them somewhere with a vet? With time and distance, I know that we did the right thing. We did all that we could. Moose got to be home, if only for one night and one morning. He was loved. And we treasure our time with Ginger.
Ginger is a gentle, kind soul. She grieved with us. She stayed by my side. Her favorite spot was on the front porch, sitting next to me, watching the world go by and napping while I write. She likes to be close, to be touching. After a few days, she stopped growling at the other dogs. She let them become friends. I watched her become happy and healthy again. The day we lost Moose, that was a really hard day. It was worth it though. As soon as Ginger was feeling better and finished with her pain meds, she found a ball. That ball was never again far from her. Although she was pretty sedentary in general, she loved to play fetch. We had to take it easy while she had those surgical staples, but we played fetch in the yard quite a lot. It made her so happy. It made me happy to see her happy.
Ginger came to us heartworm positive. She would have to go through treatment to be healthy again. We were thinking that Ginger, an older girl, was going to be with us a long while. I wouldn’t mind one bit. She is a gentle, calming presence. She is serene. I was surprised and delighted when there was an adoption inquiry. It wasn’t long before a local couple had come to our hotel for dogs to meet Ginger, to take her for a walk, to ask if they could be her forever home. It was a perfect match, happily ever after. The kids went with me, to take Ginger and her ball to her forever home. I was so happy to hear them say, I will miss her, but I’m so happy for her. Me too.
Ginger - fostered 10 February - 6 March 2017 ; adopted in New Orleans
