My Unexpected Tripawd

🐾 Ory’s Journey: From Shock to Strength

I returned to Singapore after a long trip, spending the 13-hour flight mentally preparing myself for the next phase of my life—career growth, personal goals, and how I was going to move forward. More than anything, I couldn’t wait to pick up Ory from the boarding home I had left him at. I knew he wasn’t walking, but I assumed it was just his usual leg cramp. Little did I know, a huge shock was waiting for me. The moment I saw him, my heart sank—his leg looked broken, and deep down I knew something was very wrong. The Ory who loved to walk was struggling to even take a step, yet he kept trying. I held onto hope that it was just a muscle or ligament issue, but the next day, I rushed him to the nearest vet where an X-ray confirmed my worst fear: a broken femur.

I was given two options—amputation or putting him down. My world was shaken. The vet explained that due to his age, arthritis, and weak remaining legs, there was no guarantee he would be able to walk again after amputation. It all came down to his quality of life. I was referred to a specialist, and thankfully, I managed to get an appointment that very same day. The specialist echoed the same options but gave me a glimmer of hope—despite his injury, Ory was still trying to move, still fighting. He was placed on a fentanyl patch to manage the pain, but that night, he reacted badly, becoming extremely vocal and uncomfortable.

I rushed him to an emergency vet for a third opinion, and even then, they saw something in him—something worth fighting for.

That night, I sat by his bedside, listening to him in discomfort, feeling completely helpless as I went back and forth in my mind. He was otherwise a healthy dog, his blood work perfect despite being almost 15. How could I put him down? But at the same time, was I being selfish by choosing amputation? He loved to walk, to move, to explore—what if I was taking that away from him? What if he couldn’t cope? By morning, I made my decision—I couldn’t put him to sleep. I chose to give him a chance.

I sent him in for surgery, holding onto the doctor’s reassurance, and a few hours later, I received the call: the amputation was successful. Even though it was good news, I wasn’t ready. When I saw him—my little tripawd—awake, alert, and still looking at me with those same eyes, I didn’t know what to feel.

I brought him home later that day, setting up a new space with foam mats and a comfortable bed. As I laid him down to rest, I could only sit beside him, wondering how I was going to take care of him, and what life would look like for us from here.

"The first few nights were the hardest. He struggled to move and often just lay there, which made me feel extremely helpless. But slowly, Ory began to adapt. Step by step, he learned to balance, to move, to live again. His resilience started to shine through. Every small victory—standing up, taking a few steps, wagging his tail—felt like a miracle. It was proof that he was still himself. The dog who once loved to walk was finding his way back, even on three legs."

The first nights were hard as he will be struggling to move and he just lay there aimlessly which made me feel extrmemely helpless. But slowly, Ory began to adapt. Step by step, he learned to balance, to move, to live again. His resilience shone through. Every small victory—standing up, taking a few steps, wagging his tail—was proof that he was still himself. The dog who loved to walk was finding his way back, even on three legs.

Life has changed forever—for him, for me. But Ory’s spirit reminds me daily that strength isn’t about perfection, it’s about perseverance. His journey is proof that love, hope, and determination can carry us through even the darkest moments.