There are four words that will undoubtedly send a chill down the spine of any pet owner.
“Someone shot our dog.”
My wife, Maggie, uttered that phrase as she raced into the kitchen one night.
Considering I had just returned from a walk with the aforementioned four-legged friend, you can imagine my confusion. He was beside me, wagging his tail and waiting patiently for a bacon treat.
Maggie is one of the most skilled internet researchers I know, and had made a startling discovery. The story she told was both horrifying and heartwarming, but I assure you it has a happy ending.
Regular readers of Halston Media’s newspapers may recall a column I wrote last March saying farewell to our beloved dog (and my trusty editorial assistant) Mugsy. We were heartbroken, but Maggie and I agreed that we would wait a while before considering another dog. By August, the house still felt too empty and we decided it was time to find someone else who needed a good home.
We ventured down to Paws Crossed Animal Rescue in Elmsford, returning with an 80-pound lovable mush of a mutt named Dickie. The decision not to change his name was made on the car ride home, and we have cycled through every immature joke numerous times.
Dickie immediately fit in to our household and proved to be sweet, easygoing, and strangely polite. His vocalization was limited to a single “woof” a week, leading to a game of speculation as to what he would use his weekly bark on.
Like most shelter dogs, Dickie’s history was a mystery aside from a single vaccination report from a vet’s office in North Carolina. He occasionally walks with a limp and is missing some of his front teeth, but neither issue seems to cause him any discomfort and makes him an amusingly sloppy eater. We figured we would never truly know the cause of these injuries, until an internet search changed everything.
I turned the big 4-2 in February, and the celebration got us thinking that we weren’t entirely sure when Dickie’s birthday was. (How would we know when to give him cake and presents?) Maggie backtracked through the paperwork, and eventually began searching through the North Carolina clinic’s Facebook account.
To our surprise, a post from 2024 showed Dickie (younger and thinner) along with a plea trying to locate his owner. He had been found outside a convenience store walking on a completely fractured leg. The veterinarian treating him determined that the wound had been caused by a gunshot.
A call to the vet the next day provided more shocking details. Not only had the bullet broken his leg, but she provided x-rays that showed fragments had become lodged in his side and chin, likely accounting for his missing teeth. I’m certain there is a special place in hell for someone who would perpetrate such a disgusting act of cruelty against any animal, let alone one as sweet as Dickie.
Since his owner never came forward, the veterinarian personally cared for Dickie as he spent months recovering. He was turned over to a local shelter but had no luck being adopted and was eventually sent north to Paws Crossed. The rest, as they say, is history.
Knowing Dickie’s hair-raising history has left me with a bittersweet feeling. As someone who admittedly likes animals more than people sometimes, it makes me angry and sad that we live in a world where something like that can happen. But on the other hand, it makes me grateful that he finally found his way to us.
I can only hope that the memories of that incident have faded and he’s enjoying his new life of walks in the fresh air, pepperoni snacks and snoozing in a king size bed. He may still need to contend with the trauma of our robot vacuum running, but our friend is finally home safe.
Tom Walogorsky’s dog is a certified action hero. Contact him at walogorsky@halstonmedia.com.
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