Since the moment the police arranged for me to get Shadow, a pure-bred German Shepherd, his poops were continuously softer (worms?) and stickier (blood?) until they were like thick water. Enough’s enough. I didn’t want him to bleed out. Off to the veterinarian.
Yep. The entire array of every kind of worm known to dogs were ripping his intestines to shreds. That’s why he was so thin, ribs cutting your hands just about. He was put on a course of two antibiotics for ten days, twice a day, and a large inside the throat “injection” of a good cup-full of white paste one a day for three days.
It would have made for hilarious youtube videos if I were to have filled out antics. I wanted to make sure he was going to get his medicine and not spit it out in the grass. GSDs are too smart for the own good methinks. So I put them manually down his throat. Fun! The wrestling match was on. The rules: he doesn’t bite me, and he never even thought about it, good doggie-puppy that he is. Everything went down so far. His poops became healthy poops, not sticky, not smelly, almost immediately. Father George: Dog Poop Slave.
More than half-way through the process and still having to do the pills morning and evening, and half getting a heart attack with a GSD that is now rapidly putting on healthy weight, with both of us exhausted, both out of breath, both having to sit to catch our breath, it finally hit me to pray to Saint Anthony, Saint Francis, Saint John Bosco, Saint Roch and my Guardian Angel: “Please let this go smoothly.” It’s now twice I did that. No problems at all. It wasn’t pleasant having Shadow be a mere shadow of his former shadowiness. But now he’s a healthy Shadow once again.
Meanwhile, what to do with a maggot? Kill it! We treated Jesus, God-Man, like a maggot. Psalm 22:6. A maggot nailed to the Cross. And the translation is maggot, not simply worm.
By the way, Jesus stood in our place, the Innocent for the guilty, which means that we’re the actual maggots. Humility provides the opportunity of thanksgiving to Jesus.