It has been said that bad things happen in “threes.” Those sentiments are usually expressed by the downtrodden as they search for a predictable end to their despair. In baseball, three strikes signify a defeated return to a silent dugout. “Three strikes against you” has become a metaphor for failure. Children hear the number three and know that parental discipline is imminent. Blind mice even come in threes.

For my dog Dixie, three is just a number she is grateful to live with. On Thursday, October 6, 2005, Dixie was struck by a car and seriously injured. Dixie, an 18-month-old yellow Labrador mix, was in the front yard for the remainder of the day and through the night while the owners contemplated her fate. Remarkably, Dixie survived into the following day and was eventually delivered to HHHS. The intake staff examined her badly mangled left front leg and were confronted with a decision only the most compassionate of us can rightfully make. Dixie experienced pain few ever realize yet remained calm and cooperative while Carol Stubbs and the shelter staff conferred.

There was just something about this dog. Maybe it was her eyes. Perhaps the way she gently licked the staff’s hand as they treated her wounds. No one really knows for sure. But in a place where humane death due to inhumanity is a part of everyday life, all agreed to choose life. Several generous Topeka area veterinarians treat shelter animals regularly; however, few have had a greater love for shelter refugees than Dr. Darrell Carder of Stone House Animal Hospital. Dixie was transported to Stone House where Dr. Carder performed an emergency amputation of Dixie’s leg. He also spayed her with the hopes that the procedure would expedite a quick adoption. Dixie was hospitalized for twelve days and was returned to HHHS on the morning of Tuesday, October 18.

It had been five years since Princess succumbed to bone cancer. She too was a yellow lab mix – full of life and vitality uniquely expressed by a smile. Yes, a smile. In her case, it was a submissive behavior. To unknowing sales people and mail carriers, it was a scene out of the Stephen King thriller “Cujo.” A mock scolding was all it took to bring those pearly whites to bare – always to the amusement of friends and family. Just before Princess was euthanized at age 13, I told her I would see her on the “other side” and I believe that I will. I never thought she would pay me a visit while I was an earthly resident.

On a whim, I headed back to Topeka from Kansas City on Highway 24 after a morning business meeting on October 18. I knew that route would take me right by HHHS where I could spend a few minutes browsing the kennels. The idea of having another lab intrigued me so I had completed the pre-adoption paperwork the week before. With Princess gently guiding my steps, I came upon Dixie and the image I could not shake from my conscious thoughts for the next 24 hours. I quickly returned to the lobby where Sabra told me Dixie’s story. An adoption counselor then brought her to me. One staff member, Nicki, even owned a three-legged dog. She assured me that Dixie would be no different than any other dog. Meanwhile, Dixie rested her head gently on my knee as I rubbed her forehead in the quiet sanctuary of the HHHS visitation room.

I was skeptical even though I felt the counselors were on the level. What do I know about three-legged dogs? Being a person of limited means, I wondered if I could afford veterinary care for a dog with a disability. The counselors recommended that I call Dr. Carder so I did later that day. He visited with me for several minutes and assured me that Dixie would be a happy, healthy companion oblivious to her limitation if adopted into a loving home. In short, he told me exactly what the HHHS counselors had said earlier. On Thursday, October 20, Dixie came home.

So many wonderful people rallied behind my Dixie. I would like to publicly thank Carol Stubbs and the HHHS staff for making the right choice for Dixie’s life. I am also grateful to Dr. Carder and his fine staff at Stone House Animal Hospital for saving Dixie’s life. Her adoption into my home would not have happened without their support and encouragement.

We understand adoption at my house. I am adopted. So is my 11-year-old son. And now we have Dixie. Gee, doesn’t that add up to three?

Tim McHenry

Back | Return to Index | Next