zipper, my buddy
I had to work late one winter evening and had just closed up shop and headed towards home. It was dark as hell and the rain was coming down in buckets. I couldn’t see the road very well, but knew there was a long curve in the road coming up.
As I rounded the curve something caught my eye. It was two sets of eyes on the side of the road. I slammed on the brakes and skidded in the muddy shoulder of Highway 29, that leads from Napa to Vallejo.
I looked back and the eyes started moving towards my truck. I leaned over and opened the passenger door. All of a sudden in jumps these two beautiful, shinny black labs. They were shivering and drenched in mud and rain water, but they looked happy to be out of the storm.
“Well, hi there” I says to my new friends. “What the hell are you doing out here in this mess” Of course they didn’t answer in english, but in dog they said “We’re only six months old and our person dropped us off right where you found us”
“Why that bastard” says I. “You’re coming home with me.” I felt that they had been put there for me to find and I considered it my lucky day.
The next day I took them to work with me. I had a glass and window business on Highway 29 at the time and it had three acres of fenced in area that they could mess around in while I did my thing.
I noticed one of them was limping and didn’t feel too good. At lunch time I put them both back in the cab of my glass truck and headed for the Veternarians office. Old Wes Walker was the vet of choice at the time. He told me it looked as if the dog had a fox tail that worked it’s way up through his foot into his lower leg and he was going to cut him open and search for this fox tail.
Wes didn’t find anything and closed up the incision and gave me some antibiotics for the infection, stating that the dog would be kind of lethargic for a day or two, but should be okay.
The next morning I didn’t notice any improvment and worried that Wes was slipping in his diagnosis of the problem. I put the poor pup back in my truck and took him to another veternarian that seemed to be pretty sharp, but very expensive.
The new doctor said “Looks like he’s got a fox tail in there and I’ll need to open him up and remove it.”
“Damn! How much more could this poor little guy take?” After the doc closed him up he gave me some antibiotics and said “He’ll be a little lethargic for a day or two, but he’ll be fine now”
The next morning he was so lethargic I had to bury him. He died sometime during the night. I actually cried because I know he was hurting and he put up with all our efforts and never complained.
The other little guy became my best friend and went with me everywhere. I never let him ride in the back of any of the trucks because I was concerned that he would get thrown out or would jump. His name was Zipper. I gave him that name because he had a white stripe running down his chest. He was a good boy and would lay around the office or play in the ample back yard of the glass shop when I was busy.
For some reason he developed a hatred for people in uniform and people riding bicycles. I think his former owner was a racist as he also didn’t like black people. I diddn’t have any problems related to Zipper’s dislike of these things until one day I took him with me to deliver window to the Christian Brothers winery in Napa valley.
We were buzzing along at about 60 mph. We had the windows down and it was a nice day all the way around. I was happy, business was booming, I had a new baby at home and a terrific outlook on life.
As I’m driving down the road with my best friend hanging his head out the passenger window yelling at everything and everybody we pass, I notice a figure coming towards us on the right side of the road. I don’t believe what I’m seeing. It’s a black dude in a uniform, riding a bicycle. We’re doing 60 mph and I feel the terror start to build up in Zipper as he also notices the rider coming closer. As I reach across the seat to restrain Zipper, he dives out the window at Mr Cool on the bicycle and disapears from sight. I skid to a stop and see Mr Cool riding down the road as if nothing happened, but I also see Zipper laying there in a pile in the ditch.
I run over and grab Zipper and rush back to my truck putting him on the seat beside me. He’s coughing up blood and he’s broken his legs and has blood coming from everywhere. As we rush down the highway looking for a doctors office or a Vets office he’s still coughing blood all over the windshield and me. I turn onto Silverodo Trail and I don’t really know where I’m going. We’re both scared and on the verge of panic when I see SIVERADO VETERNARIAN CLINIC to my right. I skid into their parking lot and run in to the reception area where there sat four or five people with their poodles and other uppity looking dogs. I was covered in blood by this time and everyone in the room looked and me with disdain and revoltion. I yelled out “My dog is hurt bad and needs a vet right now” All of a sudden a white coated man and his assistant run in from the back and he says “Grab the dog and bring him in fast.”
I run to my truck and pick up the limp, bloody figure that was once a proud, healthy black lab, but you couldn’t tell what he was at the moment. As I brought him into the office blood still flying all over the floor and walls, the doctor says to all the other people ” I’m afraid all of you folks will have to leave” He tells me “Right this way sir”
The vet explains that he will have to keep my buddy for aa few days and will keep me informed of his progress. Every night the vet called me and told me what they did each day. Zipper was in casts and IV’s for the rest of the week. He was uncontious for two days as the vet kept him that way to avoid the pain. I called my dad and told him about what had happened and he was reasurring me that it would be fine and the cost would be outragious as I picked the most expensive place in the world to have this happen.
At the start of the next week the vet called and said I could come and get Zipper. I was thinking around $4,000 to $5,000 would be about right for all the heroic efforts the vet put in and I was prepared for the shock. Upon my asking “Well doc what do I owe you?” The man says “Nothing, you couldn’t afford what it would actully cost” I was floored because I had never seen this type of reaction before. I loved this man for what he stood for. He was the best vet I had ever met and probable will ever meet. The man really loved his job and was one of the best animal surgeons in the country, I soon learned. He renewed my faith in humanity. I would still have him for a vet if I lived down there still. I lost contact with him over the years, but if anyone is living in the Napa area, please go see this wonderful man and his dedicated staff.
The rest of the Zipper saga isn’t much better as Zipper was never the same dog after this. He would attack anyone who came near my truck or if you looked in his eyes, watch out. One night I was taking a friend to his bank to pick up some money from the Versateller machine and I had Zipper in the cab, as usual. I told Nathan Osier, “Don’t look at him Nat. He’ll bite the shit out of you if you do” Nat says “I have a way with animals, don’t worry” and as he said that he looked dead ass right into Zipper’s eyes. Big mistake. Zipper bit Nat about four times across his head and then turned towards me like I should be proud of what he just did to Nat. “Damn, Zipper, what’s got in to you, Nat has a way with animals” He didn’t give a shit about that. He didn’t want anyone to look at him.
We went to the bank and Nat got back in my truck and Zipper was all calmed down now and Nat stopped bleeding for a little bit. He was feeling a little more relaxed now I guess because he thought him and Zipper were all done with the bitting and he says “Zipper, you’re a good boy. You won’t do that again will you?” As he spoke he turned to face Zipper. Big mistake. Zipper proceeded to trim Nat’s sideburns and the top of his head with four of five well place chomps. As the blood and hair flew through the air I told Nat I better take him home before Zipper really gets pissed. End of story
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