On our way back from the hospital after dropping off a person with chest pain, we were tasked onto a job involving an MVA, (Motor Vehicle accident), in the Castle Hill area.  We proceeded with lights and sirens activated, as it came down as someone trapped in the vehicle.

The fire brigade, and an intensive care vehicle were responded to the job as well. By the time we had arrived, the fire brigade were on scene and the police as well. The police had set up some traffic control around the site which was great, as there were a cast of thousands present.

By the initial assessment, a small sedan was travelling through a round a bout and had lost control and skidded over the curb, into a stone embankment. There were 2 occupants in the vehicle, both wearing seat belts, and the airbags had deployed, possibly preventing some serious injuries by the look of the car. The entire front of the vehicle had taken the brunt of the impact, with significant damage to the engine bay and the front suspension as well. I don’t think it was just going to buff out. (little attempt at humour there).

As we approached, we were directed to a young female, around twenty years of age, sitting in the front passenger seat. She was complaining of neck pain, pelvic pain, and a very painful knee. Seeing that she was experiencing neck pain, we place a cervical collar on her neck, and then carried out a thorough head to toe assessment on her. Throughout the entire assessment, she was still sitting in the vehicle, with her head being immobilised by my partner to prevent any unnecessary movement of her neck. Whilst this was being carried out, she continually asked about the location of her puppy.

We asked the police and fire guys if they’d seen a puppy around the scene or in the car when they had arrived, and the answer was no. the young girl adamant that her puppy had to be somewhere close by, if not in the car.

Now during the examination of the girl, a large amount of blood was noted on her right knee, and it looked like she had impacted heavily with the console in the vehicle, so I started to try to cut the jeans away, to assess the wound before we moved her in case we had to perform any, and that’s when I made what was one of the most grisly discoveries of my life.

I found the puppy. Or what was left of it.

The poor little guy was dead.

It looked as though the girl must have had him on her lap, and when they impacted with the wall, he was thrown forward, just before the girl slid under the seat belt, and her knee must have impacted into the puppy, against the front dash panel. The dogs entire back half of it’s body, and part of it’s chest were squashed. The intestines and part of the organs had burst through the abdomen, its tongue was out, and its eyes were open.

I felt sick, like you do when you are about to throw up.

I casually asked my partner to grab one of the sheets from the ambulance. When they asked why, I simply said to cover some blood as I moved the girls leg. I never mentioned a word about what I found, until we had extricated the girl from the front seat, onto the stretcher.

We needed to slide an extrication board under the girls buttocks to slide her out of the car, so I made sure that I was the one near the seat as the board went in. I needed to make sure no one else saw what I had seen in the front footwell.

I asked one of the fire brigade officers to stand at the spot near the front seat and stop anyone from picking the sheet up. I simply told him “I found the dog she was looking for”. It dawned on him immediately what I meant by the comment, and he nodded compliance.

We loaded her into the ambulance, and I casually walked back to the front of the vehicle, and very carefully picked up the puppy, and as much of him as I could, by scooping him into the sheet. I carefully carried him over to the ambulance, in as casual manner as I could, so as not to raise any questions. I then placed him into a contaminated waste bag, so he could be transported away from the scene. It was the least I could do for him.

It’s amazing to think, that the death of such a small creature, in such a traumatic and preventable manner, could have such a profound impact upon your emotions. I almost started to cry. Luckily, I kept it together in the ambulance. The girl asked about her puppy on the way to the hospital, and all I could say was that the police are keeping an eye out for him, and that he probably got scared and ran off into one of the neighbouring yards and was hiding under a bush. I’m sure he will be found, “but for now, we need to focus on you”.

I asked his name and what type of breed he was. He was a little bulldog, and he was named Dudley.

After our arrival at the hospital, and the girl was off loaded onto one of the hospital stretchers, I casually went back out to the ambulance. In our first aid kits, we carry a large indelible black marker for triage events. I took it out and wrote Dudleys’ name on the decontamination bag. The little guy deserved a better burial, but it was the best we could do. As I put him into one of the decontamination receptacles to be cremated (incinerated actually), at least heaven would know who it was. Blessed little Dudley.

Footnote

It is truly amazing how your focus of priorities can change after a few years in the job.

Most people would consider the life of a human has more value than say a dog or a cat.

Humans can be horrible, thoughtless creatures sometimes, and their value to society in general could come in to question. For those of us who have had that amazing experience of having a dog as part of our family unit, you probably understand what I mean. Take a moment to think, when was the last time you came home, and the dog was angry because you were half an hour late? When was the last time your dog was angry because you’d had a few drinks, or that you wanted to watch the footy instead of that new movie on the TV?

Animals are always glad to see you. Dogs have that indefinable devotion and love for you. They don’t judge you. They are just glad to be with you. So, when something horrific happens to them, it breaks our heart, whether you are a seasoned paramedic dealing with death on a more frequent basis than most, or not. They love us unconditionally. I’ve never forgotten poor little Dudley.