A year ago on the 15th, I brought Cora home as a "foster" pup. She was small, scared, defensive and determined. She still had staples from her first amputation. She walked in a faltering, circling way. She was blind. It turns out she was also drain damaged. I spent the first 3 months overwhelmed, but knowing Cora would not give up. She didn't wag her tail because her brain hadn't figured out how yet. She struggled with eating because her muzzle was numb. She was super reactive and didn't want to be touched. I watched her fight constantly to overcome challenges. I watched her play, even when most of the time life seemed so strong.

I took her to a vet office to start some PT because she was so frustrated with falling down and that vet said she was hopeless and should be put down. My regular vet also had no hope and said she would probably deteriorate over time and die young. None of us realized the stump from her first amputation was causing her pain. Because of the pain, frustration and fear she bit often. I took her to a neurologist who said it was not degenerative but he was concerned with her behavior. He was the first professional who had any hope, even though it was reserved. I took her to a behaviorist who gave me some simple but great advice. Talk to Cora. Before I touch her head, say "head". Duh.

Cora is blind and so much of her early life was painful and scary. She was picked up with mom and siblings when she was tiny and taken to a shelter. That must have been terrifying. And then began a process of vet appointments and being shuffled from place to place. Of course she had fear. And not knowing what would happen next, suddenly having a hand on her, would not help that fear. Cora and I began to understand each other.

And then she injured her stump. She was in such much pain and a gaping wound began to grow on her stump. Being blind and uncoordinated because of brain damage, she was prone to falling and each time she fell it was agonizing for her. But still, she tried to play. Still she wanted to go outside and explore. People wonder why I didn't give up on Cora and it's because she wouldn't give up. The second amputation was the turning point for Cora. 

I watched her grow in unbelievable ways. I found the lover underneath the tough exterior. I watched her curiosity and playfulness increase. I watched her learn and adapt. Cora is not afraid of new places. She is not afraid of what she can't do. Usually when she meets a barrier she gets pissed off. Sometimes this is good as she pushes her way past what was stopping her. Sometimes her anger gets the best of her and she bangs around creating havoc. The days of true temper-tantrums are gone though. She is no longer defensive and a biter. 

Each time Cora finds her way through my woodsy yard and back onto the porch without my help I rejoice. When I see her wag her tail I feel the joy of a happy dog and the knowledge that Cora has beaten the odds. Each time I say "hug" to Cora and she pushes herself into my arms, I feel love and loved and something no words can describe. Cora feels like my baby in a way no other dog has. Sharing my life with her has been hard but oh so blessed and I look forward to more years.

I know not everyone can take on a dog like Cora. That's ok. There are people like me in the world who will. But I do know that what seems impossible may not be impossible. I can't tell you how many times I thought "I can't do this". I came here to tripawds and cried and shared my feelings. I know most of you are dealing with cancer and that there is no happily ever after. But I still believe in hope. Our dogs (and cats) have amazing spirits. They don't worry about the future and what used to be. It's hard, but if you are thinking your dog (or cat) can't do something, think of Cora and some of the amazing tripawds here and find a bit of hope.