Chapter 2 - What's in a Name or Knuckleballers Do it With Class

Wakefield getting fat and hogging the sports page. "3-4 after the first week!? C'mon Sox!"

I’m no doctor, but…

…I know progress when I see it. Wakefield and I are starting our third week together, and I’m happy to say the little guy continues to show signs of improvement. After two weeks of non-stop eating and sleeping, a puppy is finally starting to emerge. We’ve recently had our first bouts of tennis ball romping, and he fusses loudly at me with a wagging tail when I have the audacity to make myself dinner without sharing. It appears that the doctor’s initial guess of ‘pit bull mix’ was a good one: Wakefield is starting to fill out in the shoulder and chest area, and his ribs and hip bones are slowly retreating under the pounds he’s packing on. He has lost quite a bit more hair though, so most of that hair you could see on his head, neck, and shoulders in his early picture is gone. It’s kind of funny actually…he looks a lot like a small, friendly version of the giant dog that chased Rick Moranis in the first Ghostbusters (“Nice doggy…cute little pooch…maybe I got a Milk-Bone…”). Unfortunately, he hasn’t taken Boston’s first week performance very well, but neither have I. At least we can commiserate together.

And of course, thanks to everyone who has helped raise awareness of the sad state of strays in this country by reading, reposting, or commenting on Wakefield’s story up to this point. Feel free to keep up with him on my facebook page or at www.secondchanceforwakefield.blogspot.com.

What’s in a Name or Knuckleballers Do it With Class

After I left Wakefield at the vet that first day, I wasn’t sure if I would name him at all. I assumed the folks at Till Newel Animal Hospital would have bad news about the poor creature’s condition, and naming a dog that was going be put down just seemed like too sad a venture. To my great (and happy) surprise though, I was informed the dog had a shot if we gave him doxycycline (twice a day), vertimec (once a day), and took him in for a weekly mitaban dip for the next 6 weeks.

Now I’m not 100% sure what all the meds do, and to be honest I had to look them up just to make sure I spelled them correctly (and they might still be spelled wrong). What I do know is that any medical regimen for an animal in his condition wasn’t going to be easy, and that his recovery in general was going to be arduous. This meant I was now given the task of picking out a name that would fit a dog in that situation.

Meet Tim Wakefield: He’s a knuckleball pitcher for the Sox who is 18 wins away from becoming their winningest pitcher of all time and is (if you ask any Boston fan) a shoe in for the Hall of Fame. His career numbers aren’t staggering…his lifetime win-loss percentage is .538 with an ERA of 4.33. He doesn’t have a scorching fastball or a change-up that makes hitters look like amateurs. ‘Then what makes him so great’ you ask? He’s resilient. He’s tough. The guy has been relevant and dependable for 18 seasons without steroids or HGH. Also, in my humble opinion, he’s the reason above all others the Sox were able to come back from a three game deficit and win the 2004 ALCS and eventually take their first World Series title in almost a century. There were many ‘heroic’ outings that would follow over the next 4 games against the rightfully vilified Yankees, but his act stands alone in my mind. Curse of the Bambino? Over. Gone. Finished. All because Tim Wakefield gave up his game 4 start in order to relieve the team’s ailing bullpen in game 3. God I love that story…

Wakefield (the dog) has proven himself to be as resilient as his namesake. His improvement can be measured in the added inches around his chest and the tail that never stops wagging. I promised the story of our first weeks together in this chapter, but I’ll save it for next week in the interest of keeping this round from going on forever and getting dull. That many ticks and that much ooze, hair, and crud definitely warrant their own chapter anyway.

Soapbox:

Thousands of dogs are euthanized every year in this country for lack of home and care. Thousands more of these domesticated but neglected animals suffer the crueler fate of dying of starvation. Want to help one of the many Wakefields out there? Want to add a loving and loyal member to your family without being saddled by the costs of unlimited text-messaging plans or college tuition? You can do both by going down to your local shelter and picking up a homeless animal. It’s way cheaper than buying a purebred, and your mutt will be less likely to develop the genetically inherited problems purebred animals deal with later in life. Best of all, by saving that animal, you’ll be freeing up a spot in the crowded shelters for another stray that needs a roof over its head and a chance for adoption. Already got a pet? Consider getting another one… I can say from experience that raising two dogs is easier than raising one (they seriously entertain each other). Google your local Humane Society or animal shelter for more info on how you can help out one of the many animals that can’t help themselves. If you live in the south and want to lend a hand, check out East Mississippi Animal Rescue (www.eastmsanimalrescue.com). It’s an organization full of good people doing good things, and a whole cast of critters that could use a hand.

P.S. Shelter dogs can be easily trained to sit, fetch, roll over, and wash cars. With a little more training, they can do married (filing jointly) taxes as well as simple copy-editing. Don’t believe me? Try adopting one and find out for yourself.

Next time on “A Second Chance for Wakefield”:

-Our first two weeks (seriously this time)
-Born to Run...the greatest album of all time, or just the greatest Springsteen album of all time?
-Why Charles Frasier’s ’13 Moons’ is just as great as his first novel, ‘Cold Mountain’