Is it not true that every feel-good story involves relationships? A sense of connection, a feeling of caring or being cared for, a moment which brings peace, or joy, or wonder…. Such moments may be on a great scale, but others are tiny, just small shining moments of human experience, which remain in one’s heart forever.

My beautiful dog, Nellie, was now nearing fourteen, a good age for a Labrador. Her greying muzzle told of a long life well-lived, and her coat was fading. We hadn’t had her for long, however – she was already approaching the end of her life when we adopted her at almost twelve years old.

She was becoming weary as the seasons followed each other with seemingly increasing rapidity. However, she still enjoyed her long daily walk, meeting people and bringing a little pleasure into their lives, as they invariably wanted to interact with this gentle soul. Her demeanour was proof that she had always known love, for she was patient and caring to everyone, from toddlers through to the elderly.

I felt that the walks were mentally stimulating for her and were keeping her body as strong and fit as possible, and although she was definitely slowing down, she was always enthusiastic and wanting to go out.

There were quite a few parks in our area, which she enjoyed visiting. One day we were returning home after a slow walk around a large park. As we crossed the main road back to the footpath, I noticed her limping; she was unsteady on her feet, and then she suddenly flopped down on the footpath, not far from the entrance to the shopping centre.

Nellie and I had often waited outside this very shopping centre while Pa took our toddler grandchild inside to buy a few items or a treat. That had been our regular Monday routine, so Nellie was quite well known in the vicinity. Everyone entering or leaving the shops always stopped to pat her and comment on her sweet nature. 

So now, I was more than a bit anxious – had the walk been too long for her? Yet, it wasn’t particularly long, nor was it a hot day. I offered her a drink of water, which she declined. However, she still would not stand up. What was I to do? I hoped she was not going to die, right there. It had always been in my mind that we would not have her for long, but I was not ready. I would never be ready.

Worried thoughts crowded my mind. She weighed more than thirty kilograms, and we were still more than a kilometre from home. There was no way I could carry her back. Perhaps if she just rested for a while ….

I crouched down beside her and stroked her gently. Nellie lifted a front paw and placed it in my hand.

A young woman stopped, alarmed, seeing me with my head down, beside my dog who could not move. She was my neighbour from the end of my street, and although we didn’t know each other well, she was ready to help. She also checked Nellie; together we tried to think what to do. Nellie kept reaching towards my hand with her paw, as though asking me to understand her problem.

A young man also stopped, seeing the two of us bent down, observing Nellie. He had thought that she must have been hit by a car and was relieved to know that was not the case. He too crouched down, trying to see what was wrong.

A small crowd was by now gathering around us, all anxious about Nellie’s well-being. Some of these were shoppers who knew her from our Monday shopping trips, others were people who had interacted with us on our regular park walks, or lonely people who no longer had a dog, young workers who wished they had a dog, and still others who were just concerned by-standers. Everyone showed compassion and care. But Nellie still refused to stand up.

 I kept examining her– and then I saw it. She had a prickle stuck in her front paw. She was patting my hand to communicate. My relief was immediate, and I mentally praised her for being so clever, constantly putting her paw into my hand.

However, try as I might, I could not get it out. Nobody had tweezers or any useful implement to help. Nellie flinched every time I touched the painful area.

Finally, I got a grip on the prickle, and pulled hard. She yelped. However, I got the prickle out cleanly, without breaking it. I did not want to leave any of it deep inside her paw or she would need a trip to the vet. She was too old for surgery, even a light anaesthetic.

Nellie lumbered unsteadily to an upright position, and tentatively touched her paw to the ground. She stayed upright, then took a few careful steps.

A cheer rose up from the crowd. Their relief and happiness were tangible. I am sure that, as Nellie faced her onlookers, she smiled. I am certain she sensed that they were wishing her well. I thanked them all for caring, and the crowd gradually dispersed, continuing with the busy-ness of their lives.

We slowly walked home. My heart was singing. Not because she had suffered, but because of the fact that it was ONLY a prickle; she was not dying. And my heart sang because of the community bonding.

It was a beautiful moment, knowing that so many people cared, and were willing to stop to help an older lady and her very old dog. Dogs bring people together, and the love they intuitively offer is reciprocated and multiplied when dogs in turn have a need. Everyone wants to help. Everyone wants a good outcome. That day, the outcome was very positive.

There are many such stories of community care, when people are brought together by an unexpected incident, and these are moments to treasure, and to store in one’s heart. These small experiences make life wonderful, meaningful and worthwhile.