Saved on the Edge: The Unlucky Pup Who Became a Princess

The story of a pup who stole hearts and ruled them all.

 It all began in 2011.  A 7-month-old puppy who, unfortunately, ended up in the care of some Roma people living near our house. I say "unfortunately" because they seemed to pay little attention to the safety of their puppy, whom I often saw wandering freely, following in their footsteps—constantly weaving through people, cyclists, and cars. Her cuteness caught my eye; she resembled a small Corgi, agile and eager for adventure. At that time, I had no idea that soon, this little one would come into my care. I had grown fond of her from a distance, but I also felt pity for her because she wasn’t being protected at all. I believe my intuition was sending me signals about what was to come.

Unfolding

I discovered that the puppy's name was Nera. In May or June of 2011, less than a year after my husband’s brain surgery—which changed the course of our lives—the puppy’s family approached me. They asked if I could take her into our shelter. They faced pressure from a neighbour, a local councilman, who was annoyed by the puppy’s barking. "Even the police warned us," they explained. Unfortunately, the shelter's situation was unfavourable for taking in new cases, as the property owners had begun their reprisals—coercive measures intended to force us to move. As a result, I had to refuse to take the puppy in.

A month later, they contacted me again to inform me that Nera, who had gone missing two days earlier, had returned home, dragging her hind legs. They reached out to me at a time when I was still struggling to recover emotionally from two previous cases involving dogs that had been hit by cars. Despite our best efforts and those of the vets, neither had survived. With those images still fresh in my mind and my heart heavy with grief, the news about the neighbour’s puppy struck me like a sledgehammer. My mind quickly imagined a similar scenario, and a painful lump formed in my throat. No matter how much I swallowed, it wouldn’t go away. I realised I couldn’t escape the shock of seeing the puppy who had captured my heart from afar. Her owners were unsure of what to do and had no money for a vet. They turned to me as their only hope—not necessarily for her survival, but to be relieved of the burden she had become. 

On the way to their one-room house, which sheltered four people and a dog, the lump in my throat settled in my stomach, and my legs grew weaker with every step. The moment I saw her, I immediately understood she had been hit by a car. Her spine was curved from the middle, forming a sort of lump. Her once-springy walk had turned into a drag, her hind legs limp beneath her. She was covered in wounds, yet she didn’t seem to be in pain—because she could no longer feel anything from the waist down. The family kept lamenting, “What are we going to do with her now? Take her, we don’t need her anymore!”

When I encounter such attitudes, I lose all sense of tact and explode. My emotions surge in a wave of anger and frustration. That’s what happened then as well. I scolded the woman of the house harshly, and her growing astonishment was evident in her widening eyes. However, she didn’t say a word. I think she realised it was safer to let me vent. As my anger subsided, it turned into tears—a vulnerability I’ve never learned to control, especially when it comes to animals or children.

The path to rescue

After several examinations and visits to three different vets, the result was the same: her spine was broken and her spinal cord severed. One vertebra was shattered into splinters. A spinal operation would have been too risky because of the post-operative infection risk.

In 2011, paralysed dogs weren't being saved. At that time, veterinarians often recommended euthanasia to relieve what they viewed as a life without comfort and filled with potential complications. I will never forget how my mind struggled to reconcile the medical recommendation (which was logical) with my emotional attachment to the puppy at the beginning of her life. I understood that the vets’ position was based purely on realism. To me, little Nera wasn’t just another case. She had made her way into my subconscious and my heart with each pass by our gate, each wag of her playful tail, and each bark that celebrated her joy for life. How could I take that happiness away from her? I looked at her closely. She was very calm, patiently awaiting her verdict. But in her eyes, I saw a strong desire to continue her journey in this world. She was eager to keep exploring and to discover more of what she had only just begun to “taste” by following her people's footsteps. This was reminiscent of what had happened when they went to the city festival, where she got lost in the crowd and was then struck by a car.

Who would have thought she’d find her way back alone? Armed with determination and intelligence, she managed to crawl on two legs a distance equivalent to five bus stops. Even if, in people’s eyes, she had become a handicapped dog, she was oblivious to that. All she felt was a massive appetite for life—and food.

Inside me, anger smouldered toward the people who had so easily gotten rid of their pet-turned-burden, despite being entirely responsible for her condition. Did they learn anything from this episode? Sometime later, they got another puppy, and I was the one who had to “resolve” that situation too, after another neighbour nearly killed her.

When I find myself in extreme situations where I have to repair the irresponsible actions of others, I often feel like running away from it all. In this case, I anticipated how things would unfold and was fully aware that the decision I was making would impact me and my whole family. However, I also recognised that, in that moment, I was the puppy’s only chance at life. There was no other solution! The shelter was not equipped to handle a dog with special needs, and we wouldn’t have been able to care for her there. So, I took her home, knowing I was signing away my household peace.

 A New Beginning – Sasha

From the moment I took her in, I knew her life would change for the better, despite the price I would pay. Along with this new chapter, I decided to change her name. I wanted something with international appeal that would open better opportunities for her in a civilised world. I knew a miracle was needed, but I didn’t lose hope. Thus, Nera became Sasha.

This marked the beginning of my research journey into the care of paralysed dogs. I must admit, I was afraid at first. I had no experience whatsoever, and there were no sources of information available in my area, as cases like Sasha’s were quite rare at the time. Without accessible resources, many paralysed dogs were not kept alive.

In Sasha’s case, as well as in many others that followed, information and support came from international rescuers on Facebook. After I started sharing her story, I connected with several individuals who had extensive experience caring for special needs animals. They were incredibly open and helpful. Through Facebook, I also found organisations that specialise in such cases. A British NGO put me in touch with a gentleman who offered to create a special wheelchair for Sasha to help her move. However, I was informed that she would not be able to use the wheelchair until the formation of callus between the vertebrae stabilised her spine. Additionally, we had to wait until her bone growth had ceased, as she was still a puppy.

I received many tips on how to protect Sasha's paralysed paws, which were prone to injuries and sensitive to cold. I also learned about her predisposition to colds, especially urinary infections. She could only urinate with assistance through manual expression of her bladder, which made it a constant concern to keep her safe from potential dangers. Despite these real challenges, Sasha continued to approach life with enthusiasm and an adventurous spirit. Her puppy's energy filled our home, but it also stressed out our other dogs. She was as active as all five of them combined. Sasha would chase them around the house, bark at them, and leap around like a bunny, only to eventually collapse from exhaustion. She could fall asleep in almost any position for a few minutes before waking up and starting all over again.

 

The Search for the Right Adopter

As much as I loved her, I knew that the help I could provide was limited. In addition to caring for her, I was managing a shelter with 300 dogs, supporting my husband, who has disabilities, and trying to accommodate his grandmother, who looked at Sasha oddly. On top of that, I was neglecting five other dogs because Sasha was becoming increasingly demanding.

At first, my husband rejected Sasha, which caused me quite a headache. I had assumed that because he had experienced something similar—being paralysed after brain surgery—he would feel sympathy for her as a fellow disabled person. However, the reality was quite the opposite; he was deeply affected by her condition. He told me he couldn’t bear to see her crawling. He tried to avoid looking at her, and whenever he did, he would start to cry. I realise now that at that time, he had not yet regained his emotional balance due to his own newly acquired disability. Over time, with the help of physiotherapy, he regained mobility in his legs, although he was left with paralysis in his right arm. This improvement also helped to strengthen his self-confidence.

I began sharing Sasha’s case on Facebook, hoping that someone with experience in caring for paralysed dogs might offer to adopt her. At that time, Facebook had a much more positive atmosphere; people were more helpful, and there was less negativity. Fortunately, an animal lover from Scotland named Gail reached out to us. She had three dogs, one of which, a female named Lucy, had neurological issues that made mobility difficult. Gail had to wheel Lucy in a wheelchair. Sasha caught Gail's attention because, as she mentioned, Sasha resembled her dog during her early days. After several exchanges of messages where we opened up to each other, Gail decided to adopt Sasha, referring to her as “the smaller version of Lucy.”

Preparations

The entire adoption process took several months. In total, more than six months passed from the time Sasha came to my home until she left for the UK. When Gail entered the picture, I felt more hopeful that things would improve—for everyone, not just for Sasha. I had gone through a very demanding period, and honestly, I don't know how I managed to cope. During that same time, someone left five newborn puppies at my gate in a bag, which led to sleepless nights and even more stress. Additionally, I had Ochișor, also known as Osho, placed "on hold" at a local driving school's yard. I was responsible for visiting and feeding him daily. Each time, I walked the entire way from home to the driving school, carrying Sasha in a bag on my shoulder because she wouldn’t stay home without me.

Gail's arrival was truly a blessing. Not only did she provide reassurance by planning for Sasha, but she also checked on the puppy daily. She sent packages filled with treats, clothes, toys, and even money for diapers. It's important to note that Gail wasn't wealthy. She was a young woman who had retired due to illness and lived with her mother and their pets. However, she was incredibly dedicated and skilled at caring for disabled animals. Over time, she had specialised in looking after paralysed dogs and cats. What more could I have wished for, Sasha?


I can only express my deepest gratitude to the "light weavers" who made our connection possible. Gail, who is Scottish, became "Mama Gail" in our family, but for Sasha, she was truly a guardian angel in human form—nothing could be more humane!


Sasha – The Wild Child of the Family

Sasha was unlike any of our other dogs. Perhaps she shared a bit of stubbornness with the dachshunds, but she surpassed them in that regard. We often referred to her as the "remote-controlled dog" or "Duracell" because of her boundless energy. She was possessive, noisy, jumpy, and incredibly greedy. Initially, she took over Lucy’s little bed, which belonged to our ten-year-old dachshund. However, after a while, she noticed that Lucy and Freddy, our other dachshund, were receiving more attention simply because they were allowed to sleep in bed with us.

Every day, bit by bit, like a form of Chinese water torture, she insisted on getting into bed. Honestly, I eventually gave in, hoping to secure a few more hours of sleep and enjoy quieter mornings. If I didn’t, she would wake us up starting at 5 a.m. Our daily routine would begin with a diaper change, followed by playtime and finding activities to keep her calm.

As time went on, it became clear that Sasha was growing and keenly observing the dynamics of our household. For every newcomer, the other dogs acted as teachers and role models. Each dog adapted to the established rules based on their unique personality. And Sasha? She was truly one of a kind! From her health condition to her ADHD-like personality, there was no one else quite like her.

When we left home, she suffered from separation anxiety. The result was destruction. She chewed on doors and armchairs, and pulled down curtains. Due to her agitation, she lost her diaper, and when we returned home, unpleasant surprises were waiting for me.

 
Our Home Still Bears Sasha’s Traces

I had reached a point of despair because I didn’t know how to handle Sasha's temper tantrums. Relief came from a friend, Irina, a volunteer at our association, who had the brilliant idea of getting Sasha a travel crate. This turned out to be a lifesaver! Whenever I had to leave home, I would lock her in the crate, but not before filling her Kong toy with treats sent by Mama Gail.

Sasha, like many dogs from disadvantaged backgrounds, had never experienced affection. When she finally felt the gentle touch of a human hand, she would freeze with pleasure, as if she had transformed into a different dog. She wouldn’t even breathe, thoroughly soaking up every stroke. She eagerly anticipated the evenings, when she could crawl into bed and remain calm throughout the night without waking us. There were no more diaper accidents either, as she was so relaxed—from the pleasure of it all!

Our old dachshund, Lucy, had to make sacrifices for Sasha's happiness. Sasha took over Lucy's spot in our bed and also claimed Lucy's bed on the floor. However, Lucy was never a demanding dog. She understood that this was a temporary situation and that we all needed to adapt to Sasha.

The Dynamics of Her Relationship with Our Other Dogs

Among all the dogs in our home, Sasha was most attached to Bulita. Although Bulita was the largest and most respected dog, Sasha was not intimidated by his status. In fact, despite the size difference—he looked like a hippo next to her—Sasha boldly made the first move toward him.

At first, I was a bit worried about this unusual relationship. I feared she might get hurt, as Bulita had a rougher nature. However, Bulita understood that the little one needed protection. In their dynamic, Sasha often took the lead, playfully teasing Bulita and insisting, “Don’t worry about me; I’m not made of glass!” She would tug at him—his collar, neck, or tail—to provoke him.

Yet, Bulita remained a true gentleman, patiently enduring Sasha’s antics like a wise older brother. Despite their rough play, they also shared tender moments that are rarely seen between animals, reminiscent of the affection displayed by our dachshunds, Freddy and Lucy.

To ensure she had everyone's support, Sasha eventually tried to get closer to Zguby, another dog in the family with a fiery personality. Until then, Zguby had kept her distance from the newcomer, but seeing how much fun Sasha was having with Buliță, she wanted to join in the play. However, Zguby was proud and wouldn’t allow her pride to be hurt. The only type of play she accepted was tugging on toys—she would pull on one end while Sasha tugged on the other. Zguby's growing enthusiasm was expressed through sharp barks that matched her spirited nature. At that age, when Sasha was absorbing all the behaviours around her, she began to imitate Zguby's bark. At the time, we didn’t realise that this bark would become her distinctive “signature,” which she would use on every occasion, even in her adoptive country.

With the fifth dog, Pătrunjel (Parsley), Sasha’s relationship was less successful. He always seemed like an outsider and struggled to find his place in our large family. Eventually, I decided to give him to a neighbour's daughter, where he lived happily as the only dog for the rest of his life. Before that, Sasha, in her reckless courage, attempted to approach our family's grumpy dog but received a warning bite. After that incident, she no longer liked Pătrunjel. Whenever he came into our room, she chased him away with a fierce bark. Their relationship essentially boiled down to that, leading to the saying: Love that is forced doesn't work in any kingdom!

Farewell

Sasha departed for Scotland on January 15, 2012, aboard a special transport minibus travelling the Romania-UK route. Every dog on that bus had drawn a lucky ticket to a better life. 

Sasha’s departure left us with a bittersweet feeling. After she had deeply entered our hearts and firmly settled into our home and family, it was difficult to let her go, even though we knew it was for her good. I left her little blanket and toys in the crate in the van so she would have familiar scents around her amid that big unknown. Her eyes reflected excitement for the new adventure she was embarking on, but also confusion. At times, she looked at the unfamiliar dogs around her and then back at me, as if asking, “Mom, what’s happening? You’re not abandoning me, are you?” I spoke to her, assuring her that everything was for her benefit. I don’t know how much she understood, but something in the tone of my voice must have gotten through. Strangely, she didn’t bark at all, which was quite a contrast to her usual noisy personality. That’s when I realised she was caught in a whirlwind of chaotic emotions she was trying to make sense of, holding onto my gaze. Inside, I felt something breaking, but I tried to project an encouraging optimism on the outside. It was very hard, but it was all worth it!

Conclusion

Sasha lived a long and fulfilling life, exceeding veterinarians’ expectations, thanks to Mama Gail’s expertise. Her adventures captivated many and were regularly featured on the dedicated Facebook page, "Rina and Sasha: The Dynamic Wheeled Duo," where Gail shared updates on Sasha’s journey. Over the years, Sasha transformed from a rebellious teenager to a demanding adult and finally to a picky senior. Her intense and often "demanding" personality earned her the nickname "The Princess," and humans became her devoted servants.


You will not be forgotten! You will always be in our hearts. 💞
   



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