The day started like any other, I was wandering around the pound, when I heard the unmistakable noise of a dog being attacked. The dog was screaming in panic as they often do, with frenzied barking from the other dogs. As I approached the last corral I could see a dog, being literally ripped apart. Now sometimes shouting works, even banging on the cage, but these dogs wanted this dog dead. They were not going to stop, and in that split second I didn't think I simply entered the cage.
As I stood trying to pick up the large dog that was being attacked the other dogs kept coming, I was stealing their toy, and they were not happy. I soon forgot the pound was open and that the front of the corral had filed with onlookers. I lashed out at the other dogs, and suddenly realized I was in the male corral, and that I had no idea what was out the back. I knew I had to get out of there, but I also had to take the dog with me, who I was convinced was going to die in my arms.
I literally dragged him out and managed to shut the main gates behind me, so there we sat in the pound, both covered in blood. I looked down at him, and knew I had to save him, after a brief but harsh conversation with the vets I stated he was coming with me. I also discovered that he was in fact one of my reserved dogs, so this made me even more determined he was going to survive.
The dog was placed on a stretcher loaded into my car, and off we went, I kept telling him he was not going to die in my car. In my heart though I knew this was very likely the top of his head had been ripped open, and he had so many punctures and rips the outlook was not good. I called by vet on route, and told him to get ready it was going to be a long night.
We made it to the vet, and we carried him in, my vet simply shook his head, and told me he would do the best he could. My vet is incredible, and he spent hours stitching the dog back together, the dog was a fighter, and he didn't want to die. The dogs recovery was slow, but he made good progress, and slowly the wounds healed.
Duke now lives in France with an amazing woman, he is loved, and cherished. His outcome could have been so much worse, and he could have died on that cold concrete floor. When you take your dog to the pound, potentially they can die every single day. Would you want to be ripped to pieces by dogs? Then why do you think it is ok to put your dog in that situation!