For most of my career, as a journalist, columnist and freelance writer, I’ve gotten paid to write.
No one is paying me to write this.
This column is offered freely, a very inadequate but deeply genuine attempt at saying thank you.
A dozen years ago, we were a young family with a good yard. It was time for a new dog. A few minutes after walking into McKamey Animal Center, our son found the puppy kennel. That day, only one remained, the last of the litter. My son knew: He was the one for us.
What should we name him?
“Uno,” my son said. “The only one left.”
Two parts lab with one part who-knows, Uno, who never met a food he didn’t like, is the color of a well-grown sweet potato. Like all good dogs, he has some fight in him; like the best dogs, he is tender to his core. I’m a hugger; he’s a cuddler. Often, my clothes are covered in dog hair. And I never apologize for it.
Earlier this fall, our second dog - a six-year-old scrapper who chased every squirrel he could find - fell ill on Friday and died Saturday. I know intellectually how nothing lasts. Everything dies. But the reality still clobbered me, over and over, in stunned sadness.
Still grieving, I came home one December afternoon and Uno was barely standing.
We rushed him to Signal Mountain Animal Hospital’s Dr. Giglio and Dr. Cornman, who deserve the first round of gratitude; from the bottom of our heart, thank you for your immediate, direct care and life-saving response.
Uno then went to Veterinary Care and Specialty Group’s (VCSG) emergency hospital on South Broad Street.
I’ve written about VCSG before; their team of vets known internationally, their 24/7/365 emergency care, their new Pullen Cancer Center offering cancer care so advanced it will transform our region. (One local medical officer compared VCSG’s new cancer center to VW opening its plant in Chattanooga.)
So yes, I knew VCSG professionally.
Now, with our dog hovering between what seemed like life or death, things became personal.
Uno spent five nights at VCSG’s emergency care; he could barely open his eyes or stand, as if someone had sucked him nearly dry of all his energy and spirit.
Their diagnoses are stories for another day. My only pressing question today is: How can I adequately thank all the vets, surgeons, technicians and staff who cared for him and us?
Sam, Reid, Megan, Starr, Sully, Christianne, Billy, Sarah, Daniel, Katie, Maddie, Lily, Koda, Susan and so many others - whose names I will never know, who still cared for this dog like he was their own - gave us tenderness and expert professionalism that we will never forget.
Yes, it saved Uno.
In a way, it also saved me.
For five days and nights, I witnessed vets, technicians and staff treat us and Uno with immeasurable amounts of kindness, professionalism and care.
Every so often, I’d check my phone, just for distraction: headlines, wars, politics, so much of it cruel and chaotic.
Yet, within VCSG, I was constantly reminded of the even greater, unparalleled power of big-hearted, empathetic kindness.
My own fear and heartache were matched by VCSG’s stronger response of tender, devoted, vigilant, brilliant care and attention.
You loved on us at our most vulnerable time. For that, we will always say: thank you.
Today, Uno’s home, recovering grandly, back to his old ways. After all, there’s only one Uno.
And there’s only one VCSG.
For more information on VCSG, visit www.VCSGvets.com.
by David Cook
David Cook is a freelance writer and can be reached at [email protected].
No one is paying me to write this.
This column is offered freely, a very inadequate but deeply genuine attempt at saying thank you.
A dozen years ago, we were a young family with a good yard. It was time for a new dog. A few minutes after walking into McKamey Animal Center, our son found the puppy kennel. That day, only one remained, the last of the litter. My son knew: He was the one for us.
What should we name him?
“Uno,” my son said. “The only one left.”
Two parts lab with one part who-knows, Uno, who never met a food he didn’t like, is the color of a well-grown sweet potato. Like all good dogs, he has some fight in him; like the best dogs, he is tender to his core. I’m a hugger; he’s a cuddler. Often, my clothes are covered in dog hair. And I never apologize for it.
Earlier this fall, our second dog - a six-year-old scrapper who chased every squirrel he could find - fell ill on Friday and died Saturday. I know intellectually how nothing lasts. Everything dies. But the reality still clobbered me, over and over, in stunned sadness.
Still grieving, I came home one December afternoon and Uno was barely standing.
We rushed him to Signal Mountain Animal Hospital’s Dr. Giglio and Dr. Cornman, who deserve the first round of gratitude; from the bottom of our heart, thank you for your immediate, direct care and life-saving response.
Uno then went to Veterinary Care and Specialty Group’s (VCSG) emergency hospital on South Broad Street.
I’ve written about VCSG before; their team of vets known internationally, their 24/7/365 emergency care, their new Pullen Cancer Center offering cancer care so advanced it will transform our region. (One local medical officer compared VCSG’s new cancer center to VW opening its plant in Chattanooga.)
So yes, I knew VCSG professionally.
Now, with our dog hovering between what seemed like life or death, things became personal.
Uno spent five nights at VCSG’s emergency care; he could barely open his eyes or stand, as if someone had sucked him nearly dry of all his energy and spirit.
Their diagnoses are stories for another day. My only pressing question today is: How can I adequately thank all the vets, surgeons, technicians and staff who cared for him and us?
Sam, Reid, Megan, Starr, Sully, Christianne, Billy, Sarah, Daniel, Katie, Maddie, Lily, Koda, Susan and so many others - whose names I will never know, who still cared for this dog like he was their own - gave us tenderness and expert professionalism that we will never forget.
Yes, it saved Uno.
In a way, it also saved me.
For five days and nights, I witnessed vets, technicians and staff treat us and Uno with immeasurable amounts of kindness, professionalism and care.
Every so often, I’d check my phone, just for distraction: headlines, wars, politics, so much of it cruel and chaotic.
Yet, within VCSG, I was constantly reminded of the even greater, unparalleled power of big-hearted, empathetic kindness.
My own fear and heartache were matched by VCSG’s stronger response of tender, devoted, vigilant, brilliant care and attention.
You loved on us at our most vulnerable time. For that, we will always say: thank you.
Today, Uno’s home, recovering grandly, back to his old ways. After all, there’s only one Uno.
And there’s only one VCSG.
For more information on VCSG, visit www.VCSGvets.com.
by David Cook
David Cook is a freelance writer and can be reached at [email protected].
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