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I walked over to the undergrowth calling his name with the edge of panic in my voice. Then I stopped. It was like being in a dream. I just stood there not knowing what to do. I turned to look at the car in the distance. Binda rarely, if ever, left my side. It just wasn't his way. Then as I turned back around, Binda appeared in front of me on the path gently wagging his tail. I did not know how he could have come from nowhere, to directly in front of me so quickly. I felt myself not being able to cope. The fact is, that ever since that experience, I've had the feeling that at any moment I might also just disappear. I took Binda back to the car putting this event to the back of my mind.
A few nights later I was sitting at the desk on a phonecall to a friend, when Binda came in to me after eating his dinner and threw up all over the floor. "Oh my God!" I made a grab for him as he went stumbling out into the hallway and then fell onto his back vomiting again with his entire body convulsing. He then staggered into the loungeroom and fell over with all four legs in the air and for a moment it looked like he had let go of his body and that he was dead. "BINDA!" I screamed and he came around. I rang the emergency 'after-hours' vet at Rapid Creek and rushed him around there. The vet couldn't find anything wrong with him, but Binda spent the next day in the Parap Veterinary Hospital, caged and under observation.
When I brought him back home late that afternoon, he sat by my feet swaying to the left and staring off into space. I immediately rang Parap Vet and told them, "You've got to do something! Something is very wrong with my dog! HE IS DYING!" They told me to bring him in, which I did. They took an X-ray and found that a stone was lodged in his small intestine. "So, what does that mean? What do we have to do to get it out?" The vet and the nurse looked concerned. They told me that there were two options, that they could either perform a major operation they were not sure Binda would survive, or I could put him down there and then. I told them to operate.
As Binda was taken away into surgery, a young man, who seemed to be suffering from a mental illness, came into the waiting room at the surgery and said to Binda, "Good luck mate. Good luck." He left the surgery several more times coming in and out and speaking to Binda directly. I knew that he was picking up on something and that he was directing positive thoughts towards Binda. The vets at Parap then performed an operation on Binda that was not finished until 11.30pm that night. When I rang Parap Hospital, the vets told me that Binda had survived the operation, but that he was very sore and only time would tell whether he would be okay. I trembled and sobbed inside. It felt as if I was clutching at fog.
Binda was kept under observation at the Veterinary Hospital for several days while I received daily updates and went to visit him. He remained in a cage in the surgery while the vets were operating on other animals. Once when I went in he was lying on the floor at their feet on a mat. I sensed that the vets were actually afraid that Binda would die. After he was woken up and placed back in the cage, I sat on the floor with my head resting on the bars. I opened the cage and moved around his toys that I had brought with me. He was very dopey and on a drip but he did not appear to be in any pain. I looked up at the girl next to us, who was visiting her cat. She came in to visit him each day at the same time that I was there. Her cat, who hated everything in the world except her, purred loudly and smooched up to her. I thought about how attached people were to their beloved companion animals. I was wondering if I would disturb Binda by being there every day, when he suddenly leaned forward and gave me a gentle lick on the cheek.
After a few days the vets allowed me to bring Binda home, as long as I took him back during the day to be on the drip and so that they could have him under observation. His pancreas was now infected and he was on antibiotics. On the first night I brought him back to Giuseppe Court, I wrapped both dogs up in quilts and looked at them in the mirrored robe. The three of us were together again. Later Binda wandered around looking for something to eat. He was not allowed to eat or drink, so I had been letting him lick the moisture off ice cubes while his intestine healed. When he had first got through the front door he had raced out to the water dish and taken a few laps of water before I could get to him. This caused him to fall onto his back, his legs stiffening as he retched. I thought he would die there and then as I lunged towards him in order to get him upright. I gently wrapped him up in the quilts and noticed that a small trail of watery mucus was dripping from his nose. I wiped this intermittently. While he rested I cleaned up the blood and wound drip from the large white tiles throughout the unit.
On the second afternoon after I'd brought Binda home, I took both dogs out into the backyard to do their business. I knew that the stone that Binda had accidentally swallowed had probably come from the garden, which was filled with thousands of them. I noticed him looking down at the stones and his eyes widening. He looked as if he was about to eat them. I knew he was starving and, through the haze of painkillers, perhaps he thought the stones were dog kibble. I watched both dogs diligently and made sure that Binda's mouth never got anywhere near one of those stones again. I wouldn't be letting them out there alone. |
