Jonathan Mohr

Sophie badly injured in dog attack

The ivory-colored tubes are drains. Note the staples.

Those of you who pay attention to my Twitter feed may have noted that our family dog, Sophie, was injured yesterday afternoon in a very brutal dog attack. A couple of you have asked about this, so I thought I’d fill everyone in on the details.

I went jogging after work on Wednesday and, as usual, took Sophie along. Sophie is a small black-haired mutt, a mix of miniature Schnauzer and some sort of terrier. She usually enjoys our little excursions, as they present her with an opportunity to explore the neighborhood.

We had been out for about 20 minutes and were working our way back in the direction of home when, at approximately 5:35 p.m., we passed a small white house on a busy street. A young man (he looked to be high school age) came running around the side of the house, followed by a younger girl. The boy opened the front door to the home and appeared to be headed inside.

Sophie in happier times.

Sophie was lagging behind me at this point, a little tired from running. I was looking ahead when I heard the young man yell at what sounded like dogs. Suddenly, I felt resistance on the leash and heard dogs barking and Sophie squealing in pain.

Looking back, I saw what appeared to be two huge black rottweilers, each with Sophie’s flesh in their jaws. One had torn a large chunk of skin away from her haunch, revealing stark white flesh.

The young man was on the dogs immediately, yelling and pulling at their collars. The girl was right behind, trying to help. They succeeded in pulling their dogs away quickly, but not before the beasts had mauled both of Sophie’s sides.

The entire incident probably lasted two seconds or less. If it had lasted just a few seconds longer, I’m not sure Sophie would be alive.

As it was, I immediately could tell that her injuries were severe and, at the least, would require a significant number of stitches. After corralling the dogs and getting them back inside the house, the young man came to the sidewalk where I knelt beside Sophie. Drawn by the commotion, his mother came out from inside, yelling, trying to make sure the dogs were safely restrained.

The young man loaned me his cell phone, but I had no luck in reaching my wife, her aunt who works at Klingele Veterinary Clinic, or my sister-in-law. The mother provided me with a towel in which to wrap Sophie and agreed to take us to Klingele’s, where Sophie has gone for checkups, grooming and basic care.

Surprisingly, Sophie barely even whimpered on the way to the vet. There was blood on her side and on the towel and moisture matted in her fur. The woman kept apologizing over and over and assuring me that she would take care of the resulting bills. I finally managed to reach Tollie, who immediately headed to Klingeles to meet us.

Once we arrived, the vet checked Sophie over and notified Tollie and I that she would need surgery. Sophie had deep gashes on both sides, with the left side appearing to be worse than the right. As it turns out, looks were deceiving: the vet was able to stick her entire finger in Sophie’s right side. The vet also informed us there was a possibility that Sophie’s stomach had been punctured. If so, Sophie probably would develop a fatal infection.

As I write this 24 hours later, Sophie appears to be hanging in there. She’s scheduled to come home tomorrow (Friday), but someone will need to be at the house with her most of the time. She has numerous drains coming out of her sides, which will have to be watched closely. She also may need further surgery to repair damaged tissues. If all goes well, it probably will take at least a month for her to recover.

In normal times, Sophie has a habit of trying to sleep in our bed at night, which usually annoys me greatly. I’m constantly trying to push her away with my foot, telling her to get out. But yesterday evening I would have given anything to have Sophie at home lying at my feet. Tollie and I both said a prayer for our little dog, as well as the people we know who are suffering at this time.

Does God care about dogs? Some people might say He doesn’t. But Jesus said, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father.” (Matthew 10:29, NIV)

If God cares about a stupid bird, you can bet He cares for man’s best friend.