Grace Under Fire-A Pitty Rescue Story
Burned pit bull charms her way to a better life
Dawn Turner Trice April 2, 2003
Last month, an unidentified person brought in a scruffy little dog to the Anti-Cruelty Society at Grand Avenue and LaSalle Street. The dog--called Sweetie by some staff members, Grace Kelly by others--looked as though she had been kissed by death.
The 9-month-old reddish-blond pit bull had been in a garage fire six months ago.
She was burned over 50 percent of her body. Scars shaped like lightning bolts cut a swath through her fur. Her left rear leg was so atrophied and shriveled that it dangled and was useless. Her tail was twisted and frozen to the side, as if she were going to make a left turn.
And yet, she wagged it.
After the fire she had healed haphazardly without veterinary care, doctors said. Her owner--a Chicago man whom police identified after an investigation--told officers he gave the dog home remedies and over-the-counter painkillers. He was charged with failure to provide proper veterinary care for an injured animal.
It's not that the doctors and staff at this facility hadn't seen an animal this banged up before. To the contrary. They see abused and neglected animals all the time.
But Sweetie was different.
"If you were going to vote somebody Miss Personality, it's really her," said Dr. Gene Mueller, the shelter's president. "You look at her and viscerally shrink thinking about what her last few months have been like, and yet she's still so congenial."
Upon arriving at the shelter March 10, Sweetie's first stop was the receiving room, where she got her first worming and distemper shots.
Few members of the receiving staff believed she would survive. In the receiving room, two doors lead to the area where animals are cared for as they await adoption. Another door leads to the room where the not-so-fortunate are euthanized.
To look at Sweetie, it was pretty clear which door she was headed for.
Outside of her physical ailments, there was another problem. Because she had been traumatized, there was a good chance she wouldn't trust humans. There was an even greater chance she might be holding a grudge.
Pit bulls do have a reputation.
Workers watched Sweetie carefully that first night. Would she lash out? Would she allow anyone to touch her?
Because she was considered a stray, by law the shelter had to hold her for five days. As the days passed, staffers noticed something. Every time they walked up to her cage, she would wag her disfigured tail. She doled out kisses when her head was rubbed. She never cowered or growled. She played well alone and with workers who rolled tennis balls toward her. She was in no condition to chase after the balls, so she simply batted them back and watched as workers did the chasing.
She also ate voraciously, filling out to about 35 pounds.
Some workers started calling her Grace Kelly because she managed to walk gracefully, despite her useless hind leg.
As she got healthier, she continued to be a model citizen, peering from her metal cage as other dogs with far less pluck and stamina were trotted off to the fateful room.
After a couple of weeks, word spread among the staff that this was an extraordinary dog worth saving. Word traveled up to the executive offices where Mueller and other doctors decided she had come too far to be denied a full shot at life.
To improve her quality of life, doctors knew that Sweetie's hind leg would have to be amputated. This in itself wasn't a huge deal. Dogs tend to do very well with three legs when the front two are intact. The tricky part was to see if there was enough skin to cover the void that would be left once the leg was gone.
Soon doctors decided to try the operation. It is scheduled for this week. And arrangements have been made with the Chicago Canine Rescue Foundation, which will help with Sweetie's adoption once she has recovered.
Mueller expects Sweetie will be better in a few weeks.
With a past like hers, it's hard to believe otherwise.
If I hear anymore updates on her, I'll be sure to let you guys know!
