REALIZATION AND RECOVERY (PART TWO)

While we were waiting to pick up Abby, we had the task of nursing and loving on Sky.  I had thought that the only good thing about having to wait for Abby was spending much needed time nursing Sky back to health.   Nevertheless, I was up and getting ready at the crack of dawn, getting ready to go pick up Abby. 

At 9:30am I was ready to go but not understanding the apprehension I was feeling.  The shelter is off highway 127 and if you pass the turn up to the County Shelter you find yourself heading out of town.  However, once you make the turn you head up a hill. The road is paved but as you arrive at the shelter you find the road unkempt and erie. As we made the last turn before the "gate" that blocks the road up to the buildings I held my breath until we turned the curve and saw the gate was open. This was a big plus since we sat in front of that gate for many hours the day before mentally willing it to open.  As Brian parked the truck, I twisted my head in every direction looking for the kennel my baby was held hostage in. 

She was not in the "front" kennels, but I knew they had many more in the back, but was still disappointed not to see my sweet, scared pup.  So, we open the office door and the administrator comes out and we tell her we've come for our dog;  big black and white with a purple harness.  She got a very confused look on her face and told us that she didn't think she had a dog by that description.  My panic set in and told her she must be wrong, "Animal Control called me Saturday morning and assured me he picked up my dog and brought her here."  Matter of factly, she mentioned that she did have a dog escape over the weekend but would double check.  I stood at the counter with tears running down my face; this COULD NOT BE HAPPENING.  

She came back in with that same bewildered look and I could tell she was trying to figure out what to "tell these people" (us).  About that same time a woman came in to the office on other business and obviously saw the distress happening in that small reception room.  Right away she "picked up" on the issue and at her confused expression the Shelter Warden briefly explained what happened.

She took a deep breath, let out a sigh and mentioned that on Saturday night she saw a big black and white dog on the road.  We showed her the photo and she said she could not be sure, but would go back to the location and see what she could find.  That's when it hit me.  The dog she saw on the road had been run down.  I can't explain the desperation I felt, the desperation that Brian felt.  I sobbed and all he could do was hold me.

I walked out side the compound gates and yelled at the top of my lungs into those Tennessee hills, "ABBY, ABBY, ABBY".  It was so quiet I was hoping to hear that bark in the distance telling me she heard me and to wait.  Nothing.  We finally got in the truck and drove slowly down that dreaded road that I had been up so many times in the last couple of days.

We got to the highway and normally where we would turn right toward home, we turned left (which headed out of town).  We saw Karen crossing the street so we pulled over to see what we could find out.  She explained that she found a patch of black fur across the road but did not find anything.  Brian got out of the truck while I stayed behind and crossed the street.  He ventured down off the side of the road and that's where he found the remains of my sweet baby Abby.

She had been hit Saturday night and this was Wednesday.  I cannot tell you the awful condition she was in.  I was pacing behind the truck, sobbing because I knew in my heart she was gone.  Both Brian and Karen suggest that I NOT go look.  But wisely, Brian asked me if I wanted closure, "did you want to know for sure?" I don't know what it was, but for some reason I felt I owed it to Abby to tell her goodbye to her face, regardless of how empty it was.  It was awful, but I dont' regret it.  I don't think about it, I can't let myself.

Brian asked me what I wanted to do. All I could think of was that I had to get away, I needed to get off this road and go home.  She was gone and the pile of fur was not her.  We got in the truck and headed to the nearest place where Brian could wash his hands and again, he met Karen in the store.  She told him that if he wanted to get some bags and gloves she would help him retrieve her and the she assured him that the shelter would cremate her and give me her ashes.  So that's what they did.  My husband is a saint and Karen was my angel.

That was the first time Abby ever rode in the back of the truck.  When we got back to the shelter the shelter lady met us at the gate.  I watched her cradle that garbage bag as she carried Abby to the cooler.  It did give me some comfort that she wasn't on the side of the road and that I would get her back.

It is worth mentioning again that my husband is a saint and this stranger, Karen, was our angel.  I believe that it was Divine timing that Karen was on the road that night and saw Abby and looked hard enough to be able to tell that she was a big, black and white dog.  I believe it was Divine timing that she came into the shelter just at the precise moment that I was hysterical.  I believe it was a gift from on high that she helped us in the way she did.  Would I do the same? Probably not, but I would like to think I would. 

During the course of all that happened, we found out that she volunteers her time helping unclaimed, adoptable animals get on transports to rescue organizations. 85% of the dogs that come into that shelter never leave. She is also in the process of building a Sanctuary for the purpose of taking as many of the unwanted animals and rehabilitating them and keeping them until they find a home... or not.   She also owns "A Time 4 Paws Pet Hotel" where all proceeds from the Hotel go to a Time 4 Paws Sanctuary Fund.

When I told her that I would be willing to help in anyway I could, she gave me a card with her info. Since I had her info, I felt it was important to get her photos of my Abby so she would know her as she really was, not what she saw on the side of the road. 

In response to my email she wrote, "I'm so sorry you are in pain at this time. I know how hard it is. I truly believe in my heart she was trying to find her way back to you. That is why she broke out. The love and dedication these dogs give us is amazing. I am sorry for your loss.



I am thankful for you though that you can have closure unlike so many that go lost. It was truly a miracle that I so clearly saw her colors and marking in that dark nite. I didn't want to go to that party I was tired from a long day of yard saleing to make money for my sanctuary. But now I know the reason why the universe was telling me to go. And as distraught as I was that day going to see Andrea over some sick parvo pups, I was able to take my mind off of my own tragedy and help you, SO thank you as well. I have been overloaded helping everyone since this community is in the shape its in with animal care. I am glad I was able to help you in your time of need. I hope us getting your babies ashes will once again help with the pain. Best wishes. Karen McMeekin"

If is wasn't for this person, I would probably still be looking for my dog. I'm grateful that I know, but it does not give me comfort when I think about the last 24 hours of her life she spent frightened, alone and lost.  It breaks my heart.  I cannot imagine the desperation of losing a human child.  This must be tantamount to it because it hurts so much.  I just can't say, "she was just a dog", she was my companion that gave me unconditional love, that looked me in the eye and tried to tell me what she wanted, that demanded my love and attention.    I miss her so much.

Abby Wilkins
November 24, 2001 - July 3, 2010