To say I have been through some trials in my life would be an understatement, yet somehow it is difficult to talk about them without thinking that somewhere, in another place or time, someone else is enduring far worse than I. I almost feel badly about giving in to feelings of hopelessness and despair because I should be appreciating the fact that I am alive and well. My children are thriving, I have a roof over my head and running water on the daily. However still, with this being said, I am in a storm. The dark ominous clouds swirl above my head with such intensity it scares me. When I see a break in the clouds, I raise my head with hope only to watch them close as if one would close an old wooden shutter. An abrupt end to any daylight coming forth and the end result is old paint chips from the shutter surface lying sadly on the windowsill.
I have always been the eternal optimist. When my sons father left when I was pregnant, I said “I can do this alone.” When he was diagnosed with Autism I said, “I can do this alone.” When my older boys moved out, I said “I can do this alone.” When my bones were breaking and I didn’t know why, I said, “I can do this alone.” When my husband left, I said, “I can do this alone,” but now I find myself wishing so desperately that I was not alone. How I yearn for someone to hug me and tell me it will all be ok. To tell me at the end of this storm, beauty will rise. I do not see it, but God has always shown me that there is abundant light after darkness.
So my friends, sometimes bad things happen to good people. I am proud of who I am in this world. I am proud of who I am as a mother, who I was as a wife, who I am as a daughter and friend. There isn’t anything I would not do to help someone who needed it, but asking for help myself has been the single most difficult thing I’ve had to do in a long time.
I’ve known for quite some time that Rollo had something wrong with him, I just didn’t know what to do or how to approach it. I took him to the vet, several vets actually, for them to tell me and much to my bewilderment, that nothing was wrong. How can this be? He has times when something in his body “catches” and he yelps in pain rendering him motionless for the next 24 hours. He hurts and then isolates himself. I can pick him up with no issue, but he only wants to be held, comforted. I’d move his hind quarters around with no sign of pain, massaged his back, had him walk, which he only did begrudgingly and only long enough to get him back onto a soft spot. Hard surfaces scare him as this is the only time when these recurrent injuries happen. Before it would happen maybe once a month, but lately its happening once a week or once every two weeks. With everything else crashing down around me I couldn’t ignore the fact that someone else besides me, needed help. I am his person. He relies on me to care and love him, how could I not do everything in my power to be there for him. To find and use all resources possible. How can I let my pride stand in the way?
Knowing I was down to being a single income family with a special needs child, two senior dogs and now a puppy who is clearly in pain and need of medical attention has weighed on me like never before. I did the first thing that came to my mind. I called Richard Davis. He is a member of our Schipperke community and has always been a rock in times like these for Schipperke families facing adversity. I messaged him to call me and when he did, I turned into a crying blubbery fool, telling him I was lost and I had no idea what to do to help my baby.
Richard spoke with me long enough so I could actually catch my breath and told me how when he faced his own trials, the Schipperke community rallied around him and they would do the same for me to help one of our own through this very difficult time. He encouraged me to set up a Go Fund me for Rollo, and even posted about my needs before I could, on our local Schipperke Facebook pages. So I started to write and I’m still writing.
I know that the road ahead of me will be long and arduous but I am willing to weather this storm.
I cannot let my baby hurt anymore. I cannot take “He is fine” for an answer anymore. I do not accept this. I will not.
I have set up an appointment for him this Thursday to see a neurologist and with your help I will be able to get him everything he needs to go back to being a thriving, full of life, crazy puppy.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for knowing that these dogs aren’t just “animals”. They are our most treasured beings that happen to have fur. Our hearts with four legs. Our better halves, who in a second would never show hesitation in loving us fully every minute of every day.
For those who inquired, the link to donate is https://www.facebook.com/donate/344338729766666/634863630308279/
Or you can call the vet directly at +1 (972) 820-7099, speak to the Emergency Room receptionist Courtney, and donate directly to Rollo the Schipperke. Make sure also to mention my name (Mari-Lena Heide Royer).
Mainly, above all, thank you for being my umbrella.
With all the love my heart has in it left,
Heide
