Willie's Woe

Story ID:	1862
Written by:	Betty (BJ) Roan
Story type:	Family Memories
Location:	Dallas TX USA
Year:	1999
Person:	Willie Nelson Roan

It was the first Christmas in my new home. I had always secretly wanted a dog, a Toy Poodle or Chihuahua to sit on my lap while we watched TV, but I couldn’t have a pet in my apartment. Since rental agreements no longer applied, my daughter, Tami, and her husband, Chris, decided to fill my stocking with a puppy.

It was a mere two days before Christmas, a time when puppies are scarce. Tami and Chris went to a few pet stores, only to find the cost of a puppy far exceeded their holiday budget. There were no puppies left at Operation Kindness, which left the SPCA. There they hit the jackpot. A litter of puppies had been dropped off that morning.

The puppy’s feet were about the same size as his head, indicating to me that the lap dog thing wasn’t going to happen. I said goodbye to my dream of a little dog, and immediately fell in love. He was all black, with the exception of white markings on his chest. He had long floppy ears, a tail that wagged non-stop, and a tongue that managed to lick everyone within reach.

We got into the name debate while listening to a Willie Nelson CD. Willie seemed appropriate. It stuck.

Two days later, Willie’s tale stopped wagging. When I picked him up, he felt hot. I sat in the recliner, holding him most of the morning. All he wanted to do was curl up under my chin and sleep. Tami and Chris took Willie to the emergency clinic.

A few hours later, Tami called with the grim news. Willie had Parvo. The vet had advised them to put him to sleep. His chances of survival were slim. There was the implication that Willie wasn’t worth the cost of treatment. The Vet obviously didn’t understand how much we loved our mutt puppy. Looking into his wife’s pleading eyes; Chris decided to give Willie a chance.

When Willie came home, his body was hot and still. The emergency clinic advised us to take him to his regular vet the following day, that is, if he lived through the night. Since Willie was too weak to eat or drink, I boiled a chicken and fed him broth through a dropper.

The next day Willie seemed a little stronger, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. I took him to the Vet down the street. They didn’t charge for the office visit, only the medication, which led me to believe the Vet didn’t hold out much hope for my puppy. I gave Willie the medicine and continued with my regime of chicken broth.

Later in the day I added small bits of chicken and some rice. I fed him from a spoon. To my amazement, Willie seemed to feel better. By the next day I felt sure he would live.

Willie beat the odds. He survived Parvo, and all it took was a few pills, a little chicken soup, and a lot of TLC.

There was a side benefit of Willie’s illness. Because I held him so much when he was sick, he decided he liked sitting on my lap. After seven years, he is a happy, healthy dog, and occasionally still likes to sit on my lap. Looks like I got my lap dog after all, an 85 pound lap dog…