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?
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.
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