Monday, March 26, 2007

Happy Anniversary, Mercy!


Sunday, March 18th marked our one-year anniversary with Mercy, the girl who sent us down the dane-hole.

Although we would never have guessed it at the time.

Folks who know our story are familiar with the background – we happened across Mercy on petfinder.com as I was innocently looking for a male, fawn Dane to bring to MisFit Farm and name Aslan. Six rescues later, we are still looking for our Aslan.

Mercy was perfect for us. As our Vet says,"You girls and your hard-luck cases." MisFit Farm is fully accessible, so we felt like we had the understanding, the commitment, and the accommodations to meet the needs of a dog with Mercy's physical conditions. We had a series of detailed conversations with Mercy's foster family about her health conditions, her best interests, her ideal family, etc. . . and when our adoption application had all checked out - complete with a home visit, we were green lighted to come and get her.

As luck would have it (not), K's aunt passed away the previous week, so she had funeral and family obligations to attend to, and I was left to my own devices to make my way Springfield, MO to bring Mercy home. I took Coffee with me (Duh - I take him everywhere with me) and hit the road. A few short hours later, I found myself wandering around Springfield, MO until I found the place.

Words cannot describe how stunned I was when I met Mercy for the first time. She has social anxiety and is a nervous drooler, both very attractive features in a large dog. Despite the fastidious and conscientious care from her foster family, she was bone thin with legs all the way up to her ass. She was so tall, Coffee walked right under her. She "fishtailed" when she walked and had no ability to pull herself into the back of the SUV when it was time to load up and head north for home, causing her to produce a sort of "c-clamp" effect on the back bumper of the car until I boosted her into the back. For the first 40 miles home, I just shook my head and repeated, "holy sh*t," over and over.

As we watch her romp and run, scold her for her diva-like possessiveness of "her corner" of the living room which seems to expand with every day, offer her up twice-daily feedings with her litany of medications, supplements, vitamins and culinary enticements, and encourage her to pull herself back up from repeated sit-and-spins, it is difficult to remember the girl we brought home a year ago. It is hard to remember life before we fell down the dane-hole.

The past year has been filled with unexplained medical phenomenon, unanticipated excitement, uninhibited tears, and unbelievable happiness. Welcome home, Mercy.

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat. "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."
"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.
"You must be," said the Cat. "or you wouldn't have come here." – Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland