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I just know you will be so jealous when I tell you this, but again, only you will truly understand how glorious this day was for me. A day that will stay with me forever.2
Beaugus and I headed off on our usual daybreak jaunt to the beach - trying to beat everyone as usual so we could have it all to ourselves. And we were successful as usual, at least for awhile. As a few others appeared, we stretched from our writing rock and ball fetch spot into our usual stroll. And there - on the beach, being quickly covered with wet beach towels, was a dolphin.3
A Risso's dolphin to be more precise - A ten foot male Risso's dolphin with his rounded gray melon head and his huge soulful eyes - following the movements of Beaugus as we settled to a sit not ten feet away.... waiting for the rescuers, the vet, the transport.4
Beaugus was more interested in the few people that were there – wondering why oh why weren’t they petting him? His confusion gave way to fascination as our dolphin’s exhale sent a spray of water across our backs. “NOW – THERE’s something interesting!” he says, as he begins his dance of agitation. “Look, mommy, look! See what I see? See where I’m looking? See, see SEEEEEE!!!” When I failed to move closer, Beaugus in a very loud “DO SOMETHING!” protest, landed an audible paw slap to my hand that actually drew blood. 5
He was retired to the shade of the park ranger’s vehicle – with two solid ties of the leash! I returned to perch even closer to that huge eye, by now developing a triangular teardrop. One eye, four inches wide, surrounded by blackened circles and a thin weeping film to protect it from the sea. His skin, mottled with the typical tracings of parasites and battle scars showed no major marks or current wounds. Long silences of waiting, broken by splashing water buckets, hushed cell phone conversations and misted breathings. 6
By now, all available lifeguards had been rallied. A dozen sleek tanned young bodies in blue swimsuits topped with tussles of sun drenched hair, stood in quiet groups, arms folded and leaning. Strong armed bucket carries in between long periods of looking. No one dared not. No one turned away. No one wanted not to help. And there I sat – praying for a dolphin medivac copter. 7
But there was no grand rush. No ER drama. Only a single slight women with a bag and a book, methodically preparing to draw blood. Come in close, she motioned to the blue suits. Touch only the towels. Watch out for the tail! And then, supported by twenty eight caring hands this ten foot giant winced as a hair thin needle pierced his left flipper. 8
Again. And again. Moving now to the other side. Wince. Wince. WINCE! Those who couldn’t get in, placed their hands on the shoulders of those who could, as if a longer chain of their loving support would help. And before each pierce, the chain of hands tensed in anticipation, remembered their role and eased into a soothing stroke and collective “ssssssshhhhhhhhh… “9
The huge eye drifted to less.10
Fingers flicked the tube. Not enough said the head shake. Seems the blood clotted before the tube would fill. We will try again – in a while.11
All hands eased away.12
All bodies moved away.13
Umbrellas were put up. Buckets continued.14
I started whispering in what I hoped was a calm steady litany of soothing. Alone, he watched me – as I watched him. Alone. Each of us with our own special plea. 15
“Don’t worry. Momma fix.” as I do to Beaugus when he has been stalled in play by a sand burr in a lifted paw.16
The vet – “Would you be so kind as to monitor his breathing?”17
For the first time I took my eyes away. Oh happiest of days! I crawled in, eager and counting, with my newly acquired gloves and sat for the next three hours – left hand on his smooth melon of a forehead, right hand stretched to his lungs. Our eyes now not twelve inches apart. Each exhale from his double channeled blowhole blew my bangs into flight. “8 seconds” at the next breath. “8 seconds – again.” “7” “8”. Pages were filled. And between what was now coordinated breaths, I continued my momma fix mantra trying to pat hope into that soft smooth melon that contracted after each breath and at each pause in my lullaby. At times, we went silent. My eyes fixed to the fingerprint-like circles around his blowhole – memorizing. “12 seconds”. My hands trying to channel strength and courage into his heart. 18
And then it was time. For only with those tests would the pool in Long Island agree to take him. Again, to allow him to fight to survive the long journey in the back of a truck with only a mister to keep him company. Thirty hands this time and one soothing voice as the needle searched his dorsal fin. A shiver went through him and out through thirty hands. Again. His huge tail slapped the sand in protest. By now all eyes focused on one tiny tube – which teased and then filled – to a crowd of audible sighs – and one long wave of fluttering hair. “16 seconds”.19
Alone again – together. Under the sun, under the umbrella, under a now larger awning of eyes, we breathed. “20” “12” “18” Tremors. Small at first. Only felt. “12” But then rising to the skin’s surface. “28” He shifted uncomfortably. Eye wide, then closing. Wide, then drifting – slowly – out of focus. We both teared up as I felt something new in his lungs. A struggle. A rasp. A fight. “36”. I cooed. I patted. I stroked. He dented. And finally, he breathed. “28” “24” 20
In his shifting he pressed a tiny bump at the crease of his flipper. As he eased back, it ruptured there by my knee. Blood slowly hiding the life scars on his fin. Drips mixing with sand. Worse than the stick of the needle – the alcohol sting. He flippered against it. And now flipper, blood, sand, and alcohol all rested against the skin of my thigh. 21
We shared stories. I tickled the corner of his mouth to count teeth. Eight. Two sets of four. Only on the bottom. Eight symmetrical cones that in better times, would have set off his smile. 22
I tried to think of a joke to tell. A dolphin and the rabbi, go into a bar…. “12”. “14”. And then a very quiet response – 4 almost inaudible clicks from a blowhole – followed by one long constricted whimper. The numbers now going onto the back side of the papers on the clipboard.23
The tarp of the stretcher was folded and fitted into place on the far side. Ready? Thirty hands rolled him into my lap… and then away, his eyes wide with pleading confusion… and then settled him back into place. Sands readjusted for support. And again, just he and I, eye to eye and ear to ear. Whispering. “If you need to go, go now. Before they lift. Before they shuttle. Before they think they have the right to decide.” My hands soothed in longer strokes and from deep inside he spoke. It wasn’t a click. The tremors had gone. The shivers had stopped. But he spoke. He voiced his choice and continued his fight.24
I slipped the rod through the sleeves of the sling. I leaned in and kissed his fingerprints. Twenty eight hands moved in. Two turned away.25
And as I buried my sobs in my dog, I turned once more to see, one final glimpsed tail wave – pushing the truck up the beach.26
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At this time, I don’t know what came next. I do know Long Island was now asking he be given fluids before his trip. I do know the truck was first heading to a building on the other side of town. I did see the vet gathering the necessary feeding tubes and equipment from the center as I drove from the park. But I didn’t follow.28
We’d said our goodbyes.29
Now, I just watch the waves.30
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Update: Great news and video!!!!! Yipppeeee Skipppeeee!32
66.11.128.149/features/content.asp?code=feature_three33
"Our dolphin is doing very well, so this is good news at least for now. He survived the long journey of nearly 7 hours to Long Island, thanks to the vigilant care from the volunteer team that accompanied the dolphin. They kept him moist the entire time, which helped to mitigate skin damage, a common ailment from being out of the water. As of yesterday, he was swimming around his pool, and took food on his own which is a terrific indication and will help with his recovery. He is reported as being extremely curious, and looks at everything with his big beautiful eye, and then swims around the pool brushing the sides with his belly to check it out. The staff at Riverhead are really enjoying him. They still don't know what is wrong with him, and are awaiting further diagnostic results. " Wed Aug 5 34
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3766.11.128.149/features/content.asp?code=feature_three33
"Our dolphin is doing very well, so this is good news at least for now. He survived the long journey of nearly 7 hours to Long Island, thanks to the vigilant care from the volunteer team that accompanied the dolphin. They kept him moist the entire time, which helped to mitigate skin damage, a common ailment from being out of the water. As of yesterday, he was swimming around his pool, and took food on his own which is a terrific indication and will help with his recovery. He is reported as being extremely curious, and looks at everything with his big beautiful eye, and then swims around the pool brushing the sides with his belly to check it out. The staff at Riverhead are really enjoying him. They still don't know what is wrong with him, and are awaiting further diagnostic results. " Wed Aug 5 34
35
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