Meet Annie, our 10-year-old dog. As near as anyone can guess, she's part chow, part labrador retriever. She's all love and trust.

I'll begin at the beginning.

Annie (see photo, right) came to us in January 1995 as a 6-week-old puppy. Her mother was an abandoned, frightened dog who had been living on the side of a nearby highway. She gave birth to Annie and her littermates in a small cave she'd dug under the roots of a large, rotting stump in the nearby woods. Luckily for Annie and her dog-family, a very kind young woman befriended the mother, tracked her to the litter, and rescued the whole family. I was acquainted with the rescuing angel, so I went to visit the puppies. Annie came home with me a few days later.

She's been a great dog. In her youth she had pretensions of rising to alpha in the pack-household, but she's put that ambition aside.

Annie is a survivor, that much is clear.

When she was two years old, she developed 26 allergies, ranging from fleas, mildew and dust, to tree pollen to grass. All of her fur fell out. I thought we'd have to put her down. But some environmental adjustment (we put in a central air conditioner that summer, more for my allergies than hers) brought her around. She still has flareups from time to time, but minor ones.

Her greatest test came earlier this month.

During the Christmas holiday, I noticed that she had a swelling on one of the joints on her back right leg, which had as a result gone lame. Arthritis, I assumed. Maybe rheumatism. But no, the vet drew a sample and sent it out for testing. The diagnosis: soft tissue cancer of the nerve sheath lining. The good news: the tumor was of a sort that is not inclined to spread to vital organs--although growing in the joint, it would cause the dog more and more pain. The cure: amputation of the leg.

The surgery was performed on January 20. She came home the next day with about 35 staples where her leg used to be. Almost immediately she began getting around. Today, a little more than a week after surgery, she played chase-the-toy (see photo above - her favorite toy), and she's even been venturing out carefully into the front yard for her "constitutional" walk.

The cats know she's all talk as she growls over food and water, and they act accordingly as she hobbles about. Her favorite activities have included playing chase-the-squeak-toy and guarding the bird feeder on the back deck against marauding squirrels. We're working up to these slowly.

It's not been as easy for her as for some dogs. Her rear quarters have never been as strong as her front end, which has a classic chow massive sturdiness to it. The remaining back leg doesn't always hold her up, especially on hardwood and tile floors. She has to lose some weight to compensate. We'll work on this.

As I write, she's lying next to me, sleeping with a hint of a dog-smile on her face. (See Annie's recovery bed, left.)

I look at her, and I remember the tiny puppy from the forest cave, the young suffering dog crying from allergies, the lame dog chasing her new toy this winter, the recovery process so far for my three-legged friend. I wonder what's in store for this strong, devoted dog. And I'm grateful that my path and hers will run side by side for a few more years.

Peace to all--

Kathleen at Cat's Cradle Used, Rare and Out of Print Books

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