Abbi (originally written in 1988)

My Dad and I had heard the howling from deep within the woods for quite some time.  We figured that it was just a coyote or perhaps a dog from one of the farms on the other side of the forest.   Neither of us thought much of it as we went about our business, until we got the call.

           For all of my eleven years my family had lived on a short dead-end street.  The street is surrounded on three sides by forest which is home to many animals. There are only a few houses on the road and not all of them were inhabited.  Just a couple of houses down from mine, a divorced woman and her two young children had just moved in.  She seemed like a very nice woman and had already become friends with my mother.  In fact, we were the only people she knew in the town.  The call was her, needing our help.

           “Betty, calm down!  I’m sure she’s alright.   How long has it been?”   I could hear my mother talking on the phone in the hallway.  “Three hours really isn’t that long.  It may not even be her that you hear.  Bring the children over here and Lisa and my husband will go with you to look for her.”

As my mother hung up the phone, my father and I were summoned.

           We were informed that the Stewart’s Border collie, Abbi, was missing.  Ms. Stewart feared that the horrible howling might be Abbi in some kind of trouble.  I knew this meant that I would get to go into the forest.

           I loved the forest.  My parents always thought of it as a dangerous place for a kid to play.

Too many dark places for evil to lurk.  Of course I had sneaked into the forest many times and luckily had never found the danger that my parents had warned me of.   I knew those woods like I knew my own house and I knew it would be up to me to find Abbi.

           Within ten minutes Ms. Stewart had arrived with her children.  In another five minutes we were on our way out the door. As we approached the forest the howling grew louder.  Whatever it was that was making that noise, it was hurt badly. 

My father ran back and got a blanket and his hunting knife.  The path in the woods runs parallel to the road and starts at either end, but I knew a shorter route through, one that brought us straight from the house.  As we neared the path we could hear the howling even better.  We could tell that the animal was still a long way deeper into the woods. I knew the area well.

           “She must be nearer to the farms, we should hurry!”  There are no direct paths to that area, we had to cut our way through.  I was the smallest and knew where I was going, so I took off through the bramble.

           I moved as fast as I could through the bushes and under the low pine branches, trying desperately not to trip.  I went quickly through the blur of green and brown, over the fallen trees, around the swampy marsh, up the hill, and across the clearing.  Then, on the other side of the clearing, I found the bloody, mud-covered dog. 

           It was much worse than I could have ever imagined.  She was caught in an illegal steel leg hold trap, probably set up to snag the coyote that had been terrorizing the farms.  By the looks of the poor dog’s leg, she’d been there a while.   All I could see was blood, tissue and bone.  I moved slowly and talked calmly to the terrified creature.  Her growling stopped as she realized that I was there to help.

           She laid quiet now, panting. Her big brown eyes did most of the talking as we awaited my father and her master.  She looked at me in such a way as to say “thank you for coming, am I going to die?”  The dog had a certain gleam of hope and at the same time she carried a look of despair.  I sat down on the ground placing her head on my lap.  I gently stroked her face and spoke softly to her, telling her she would be alright.  I could feel her fear.

           Dad and Ms. Stewart arrived a few minutes later, though it seemed like hours.  Dad released the trap and lifted Abbi out.  The sight of the bloody white fur, torn muscle tissue and raw bone sickened us as we hurried out of the woods.

           The journey out of the forest seemed to take forever, by the time we finally made it back to the house Abbi had lost a lot of blood.  We rushed her into the cellar of our house and placed her upon dad’s workbench.  The trap, combined with her efforts to escape, had ripped the flesh clear through to the bone.  The lower part of the leg was dangling with just chipped and fractured bone holding it on.  The pain must have been excruciating, yet the dog only whimpered slightly.

           The nearest veterinary hospital was more than an hour’s drive.  If Abbi lost any more blood.... well, we just couldn’t take that risk!  Ms. Stewart went upstairs to be with her children.  Surely, the sight of her beautiful border collie in so much pain and dripping with blood had to be hard for her.

Mother brought down a bottle of peroxide, a kettle of hot water and some old white sheets.

I tore the sheets into strips while dad cleaned the mud from the injured leg.  We made the best splint we could from a piece of stiff cardboard.  First, we tied a piece of the sheet around the upper part of Abbi’s leg, in order to stop the bleeding.  Next, I carefully placed the raw muscle of the lower leg back around the bone.  (The feel of it sent chills up my spine)  I then wrapped another strip of the sheet tightly around the lower part of the leg, much like a cast.  We then set the leg up with the cardboard and wrapped on more piece of sheet around the outside.  The bleeding finally stopped and we were safely able to take her to the vet.

           I will never forget the quiet cries of Abbi, and the way she looked at me in despair.  Those big brown eyes full of hope and fear.  I will always cherish the memories of her special way of silent communication.  I also remember the slight limp she walked with the rest of her long life.  I will always remember that day in the woods with Abbi, as the day that I realized  my  calling:  to become a veterinarian.