Saving Rufus

We were feeding stray cats when we noticed Rufus. The village was pretty much deserted. The permanent population probably numbered about 5 persons. It was fairly run down. It predominantly consisted of ruins, however, due to its proximity to a number of olive groves it had a transitory population as well as the groves needed to be watered, fertilized, weeded and pruned throughout the year.

Rufus appeared to be a pedigree German wire-haired Pointer. It certainly was rather unusual to find a pedigree dog in the middle of nowhere. The most striking thing about him was his eyes. Rufus had the kindest eyes that I have ever in any dog. There was not a hint of aggression. He was totally benign. He had found shelter in one of the abandoned buildings and was fed by the locals.

An old injury

He appeared to be in reasonable condition the only obvious issue was that he had a slight limp from what appeared to be an old injury. Careful examination indicated that at some point the leg had been broken but had healed to the stage where he could use it albeit that if he attempted to run the limp became somewhat pronounced. Rufus was a happy dog, enjoyed the company of people, showed no hostility to other animals and appeared to be contented with his lifestyle. We arranged for a kennel to be placed in one of the buildings and provided warm bedding in winter and over the next few years we also made sure he didn’t go hungry, he was neutered, vaccinated, was groomed and tidied up and for a stray dog on the island of Crete, he enjoyed a fairly comfortable lifestyle. Any suggestion that I find him a proper home was met with a distinct lack of enthusiasm from the villagers.

It seemed that whilst he didn’t have a home in the accepted sense his presence in the village was viewed as a good luck charm by the villagers. In fairness, there were so many homeless dogs on the streets and anything up to 50-60 dogs in the shelter waiting to be rehomed that by comparison, Rufus was living a life of luxury. Unrestricted, fed, sheltered, able to join the olive farmers if he wanted, to sleep on sunny days which is most of the year.

We saw him most days as we had a cat feeding station in the village, however, one morning we were horrified to find Rufus unable to put his previously damaged leg to the ground.

The break was plain to see and an x-ray confirmed the fracture but also showed the true horror. The break was close to the end of the bone and the surgical procedure would require an orthopaedic specialist. Unfortunately in those days, I was unaware of anybody with that level of expertise on the island. Attempting to pin and plate that close to the end of the bone was fraught with danger. Anything less than perfection would leave an unstable mend which would make healing almost impossible.

In desperation, I made a phone call to a veterinary surgeon that I had worked with in the past. Maybe she could advise. The lady is a charity vet, she is a specialist in neutering but is used to working without the modern state-of-the-art equipment so enjoyed by veterinary surgeons in big cities. In the world of charity veterinary surgeons that work on all continents, this lady is a legend. What is sometimes known as a muck and bullets vet. Working with minimal equipment, having to improvise, operating in difficult conditions, sometimes under canvas, even working with a light bulb running off a car battery. A veterinary surgeon so dedicated to her craft and so revered that I have heard her referred to as a saint. She agreed to help. Rufus was anaesthetized, a rigid half cast was created to hold the leg firmly in place and stability was ensured by the careful application of special bandages generally only available to the medical profession. The bandages were changed every 2-3 days and a few weeks later an x-ray showed an almost perfect alignment. Rufus was able to use his leg again with the same flexibility that he had before his second accident.

The next problem was what to do with Rufus. Sending him back to his village home was not an option, let’s be honest he had survived two breaks on the same leg but a third could be catastrophic. In fairness, the villagers agreed that maybe the time had come to find him a proper home.

So what happened to Rufus?

Well, Rufus now lives in Germany.  His new owners have a large house with a very big garden and they have several German wire-haired Pointers who have accepted Rufus into “their gang.” He is so accepted that his newfound canine cousins have allowed him to take the bed closest to the radiator. It is a trifle colder in Germany than it is in Greece!! He has a new coat to protect himself from the cold and has experienced his first-ever snow. He spends his days going for walks with the “gang,” playing, retrieving a ball and generally having a good time. Does he miss his old life? Well, there is one behaviour that indicates that he has some nostalgia for the past. On sunny days when temperatures rise Rufus can be found sunbathing even when the rest of the “gang” have sought shade.

It appears that Rufus has landed on his paws!!