The Healing TouchYoung Tudor was only four years old when he had a terrible accident. A few months earlier he had been badly bitten, which gave him a gammy right front leg and one day, while racing after a stick, he tumbled over and curled up into a screaming bundle of pain.
When we reached him he was quiet again, but his back was twisted and his hind quarter was lame and dead. The front end was in perfect working order and he showed no distress.
Meg went for the car and I picked Tudor up to carry him towards the closest road. This was a long walk which the now painless dog spent licking my ear. We took our friend to the vet, fully prepared for the worst. While the vet gave him an injection we noticed his hind paws twitch ever so slightly - all was not lost.
Two months later he could run again, but he had a permanent twist in his spine and was liable to fall over every once in a while, but life was still enjoyable. He never forgot the journey through the forest though.
From that day on Tudor thought that I could fix
anything. Two months
later I walked him in the country park and he roamed somewhere through
the thicket. Suddenly I heard a snap followed by a yelp and then total
silence. I instantly assumed that he had hurt his back again and raced
in the direction of the sound. There was Tudor - sitting straight with
his head pointing forward and one paw in the air. He didn't move, look
at me or wag a tail - for all I knew someone had erected the statue of
a border collie in the middle of the forest. Tudor had obviously run
into some branch or other, because there was a big green mark on the
I went to him to examine the sore leg. This had an
immediate reaction. The moment I touched him he assumed that he was
healed and started to walk with a limp so well executed, that I
couldn't help laughing.
I have always been of the opinion that humans win Oscars in Hollywood only because border collies or not allowed to compete, but that limp was something special. For several minutes Tudor's nose oscillated between shoulder height and ground level in the most impressive and unlikely way and the injured leg had turned to black spotted and white jelly.
From that day on, if ever anything painful happened to Tudor, he would freeze until one of us came to touch him - which touched us.
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