I am often reminded by the gestures of certain people and even animals that it’s time for me to go the extra mile, win or lose.
It all began with

a phone call, as it often does.
“Hello, Lennie.”
“Hi, my friend, what can I do for you?”
It was my anonymous angel who paid for Snowy’s operation. Snowy, by the way, is doing wonderfully and is soon to be adopted into a loving home. More on that in the future.
After pleasantries were passed between us I was asked, “How is Jewel?”
“She’s a heartbreaker, sir, she’s young and loving and so full of problems that I’m told are irreversible.”
“Do the medicines help her?”  he asked.
“She would die quickly without them, I suppose.”
“I wish you to find out what Jewel’s medicine will cost each month and I will send a check to the Humane Society in your fund for that amount.”
Once again I nearly dropped the phone as I quickly said a prayer for this wonderful man.  This man has the ability to do to me what few people can, he puts me at a loss for words. After mumbling a few disoriented thank yous, I went on, “that would be difficult, I’m sure her care is going to fluctuate.”  “Just get me a ball park figure Lennie, that will be fine.”
After the phone call I went into action setting things in motion. I contacted Kathy Toomey, the Foothills Humane Society treasurer, and explained that when the checks arrived, that amount was to be drawn from my account and sent to Landrum vet for Jewel’s meds.  I then went to Landrum vets to explain what was going on and left some money for Jewel’s care.
I then took Jewel for a light walk. When we came back I took her in my arms.
“We’re doing all that we can to make life easier for you, sweetheart,” I told her. “I wish I could do more.”
All night long I couldn’t get the phone call I’d received on Jewel’s behalf out of my head.
Early the very next morning I headed back to the vet’s office.  Dr. Raines was off so I spoke with Dr. Maiola.
“Tommy, do you think there’s any more we can do for Jewel to give her a chance?”
“We’ll see, Lennie,” he answered and then asked the vet tech to pull up her x-rays as Gabby went to fetch her. Gabby came back with Jewel in her arms and my heart leapt as it always does upon seeing her.
Tommy checked her heart and assured me that it was sound and then we proceeded to review her x-rays. He pointed out all the fluids in her lungs and then showed me the dark spots which he called doughnuts.
“Those are air pockets,” he said.
He then ordered some antibiotics and steroids that he assured me would improve her condition.
“Is there anything else that can be done?” I asked.
“We can send her x-rays off to Upstate in Greenville. I know the doctor who treats these cases.”
“Do you think there’s a chance, Tommy?” I asked, with my hopes rising.
“There’s always a chance, Lennie.”
That answer was one of the reasons why I love this man.
“Let’s do it, doc, a friend that knows you  is paying for her medicine and I’m sure he’d approve if I used the money he saved me on Snowy to pay for Jewel.”
As of this writing the prognosis of what can be done for Jewel has not yet returned. No matter what happens, I can say that I tried and for that I wish to thank my anonymous donor.  Your faith in me and obvious love for my kids has led me to do what I should have done in the first place. And to all of you, pray for Jewel, this sweet pup is certainly worth it.
Thanks for listening.