The right attitude

Over the past six months I've learned a little wisdom from an injured dog.

On 22 Dec 2021, Cooper broke his back chasing squirrels that weren't even there. Fortunately he didn't sever his spinal cord and the veterinary conclusion was that it was probable that he'd recover some or even most movement. Eventually. Probably. But maybe not.

And in the meantime he was paralyzed from the midsection down. Not a twitch. Back legs, tail, all immobile and useless. He wasn't in pain because he really couldn't feel anything. Which was something.

So we brought him with us to my mother's house for Christmas and carried him around so that he could be with us. We carried him outside every couple of hours to do his regular duties, but much of the time he had already done it in his bed and we were going through nappy pads at a startling pace. When we came home we sat him on the balcony so that he could watch the foxes.

And persistently, all this time, though he HATED wetting and dirtying the bed and would crawl away from the mess as much as he could (not a lot) he remained Cooper.

As long as he was with his people, he was happy.

He couldn't move his legs and he's a big dog so we eventually figured out how to support his back half in a sling and walk him around rather than carrying him around. Half-dog, half-handbag.

Dog walk was a huge and undignified struggle for him and he often fell, or tore toenails when we didn't hold him up high enough and he was dragging his rear toes across the ground. But he kept trying and his legs were starting to twitch slightly when he dreamed, still chasing squirrels. And he tried to move his legs as we carried him along.

By mid-late February he could stand up long enough to let me take a picture. Though if you'd nudged him even slightly he wouldn't stay straight and his back half would just twist out of control and over he'd go.

All this time he just kept trying to do what he could do. Still visibly embarrassed when he wet the bed, he just kept trying to walk. Every day he got a tiny bit stronger.

By March he could walk, though he walked like a drunk and his back half often got out of control and brought him down in a flopped heap. By May he was starting to try to run, though it was undignified and often unsuccessful and he occasionally made his fleet bleed if he tried to run on a hard surface.

Now in June it seems clear he's never going to run again like he once did. But he IS going to make the best of what he can do, and he does not worry about what he can't do any more or about what he might be able to do some day in the future or - frankly - about how undignified he looks much of the time.

He's doing what he can. He's doing what he can. He's doing what he can.

And getting fun out of it all, all the time. Or at least most of the time.

I think if I'd suffered an injury like Cooper's before seeing Cooper, I'd have sunk into a pretty terminally morose funk. I really would.

But after seeing Cooper, I can see that there's another way that is at least worth considering.

Now - to be fair - Cooper did recover. And there are lots of worse things that could have happened. And many bad things happen to people where I am still astonished how they can live with them.

Quadriplegic from the neck down? I have no idea how to deal with that.

MS? I have no idea how to deal with that.

But perhaps now a glimpse. And perhaps also more compassion than I had before.

And Cooper lies here on the floor beside Missie and me and snores gently.

Perhaps dogs are the people we strive to be.

Take it one day at a time. Make the best of it. Don't wish too much for impossible things (he still looks at a long thrown ball with longing). Do what you can do. And do what you can do as much as you can do it. Don't hold back. What's the British Army recruiting line "Be all you can be"?

That's Cooper's attitude. That's a good attitude

Thanks Coops.