She is a Chihuahua terrier mix.
She saved my life.
I had heard previously that having a pet improved the healing process of the sick. I searched for a couple months until I found Dingo. On 10 July 2010, Dingo came home with me. I had not had a dog since I was a kid back on Eagle Way, so it took a bit of acclimation to having a more interactive pet than my 15 year old cockatiel Larry. The more time consuming effort was to teach Dingo to do her business in the bathroom on the paper.
The day of my surgery was 23 August 2010. The surgery took approximately an hour longer than planned; but, that did not concern the surgery team. In the end, the surgery was successful. I was later told that while in my room recovering, I was having trouble coming out of the anestesia. I just was not waking up and breathing was getting shallow. The nurse, my Dad and wife were calling my name; but, I was simply not responding. Finally, in the cottony haze of dreamtime I could barely hear my mother with a demanding yet gentle interrogative repeating: What is the name of your dog?
I could hear myself groggily say, Dingo. I could remember still with eyes closed my new dog Dingo. Coming out of the dreamstate, I was dazed why the question was asked then went back to sleep. I was now officially on the recovery track. Everybody was relieved.
Into the night at about 11 PM, I spiked a temperature of 108 degrees. The nurses did the procedure to bring it down. Later when I was released to go home, my nephew told me that Dingo started barking crazy and could not be redirected to stop. I asked him what time did Dingo go crazy? He said about 11 PM.
This is my dog, Dingo.
She is a Chihuahua terrier mix.
She saved my life.
