Veterinarian here.

An approximately 6 week old puppy was presented that had been crushed by a car and thrown away in a dumpster, left for dead. A Good Samaritan found her and brought her in to a clinic for euthanasia. It was a Saturday afternoon, he was about to close up shop for the weekend, and now this.

She was a little fuzzy black ball, about a pound and a half, with soulful eyes. Abdomen gashed open, left leg mid shaft femur fracture, right side hip shattered and pelvic fractures. Had been this way long enough that her quadriceps had contracted and the leg was hyperextended bent backwards at the knee. He took the puppy in, looked at his nurses and said "I'm not starting my g*****n weekend like this, I'll stitch up her belly and figure out what the f**k to do with her Monday."

Monday rolls around and he brings her to the main clinic so that the vet student can practice fracture fixation before pup is euthanized. Vet student (me) says in tearful voice "If I fix her properly do I still have to put her to sleep? " Answer was "Nah, but if you do that you have to find her a home." Her name is "Bits". Another vet student got the other hit by car stray dog to practice on, the nurses named her "Pieces" +1 for dark humor by nurses.

So I anesthetize her, prep the left leg planning for an IM pin. Start making the initial skin incision, and she doesn't bleed. Pretty sure that was A Bad Sign, so I chose to wake her up from anesthesia, give a blood transfusion and try again the next day. In the interim I do diagnostics and this little munchkin has (in addition to both back legs crushed and belly wound) hookworms, roundworms, whip worms, coccidia, demodectic AND sarcoptic manges. I look at her and asked her "how the f**k are you still here, seriously?" She just looked at me and did little puppy grunts.

Next day her crit was holding steady so I move forward with surgery plan. Single IM pin in the femur, and I had to manually flex the knee to RIP through the scar tissue and return it to normal position.

She recovers well (held her in my arms). I put her in the cage and set off down the hall to see some walk in rooms in the meantime. Two hours later and I check up on her. Vitals great, in good spirits, but that d**n leg is sitting backwards at the knee AGAIN. In puzzlement, I ask my mentor what I should do. He tells me to flex the knee manually again. I asked if that was safe, to sedate her again so soon. He told me to do it without sedation.

Cue horrified, shocked look on my face. He sees my reaction, then tells me matter-of-factly that "you're gonna have to do that every 2 hours for the next 2 days or that scar tissue will just come back." I go back to the pup, love on her and apologize ahead of time for the pain I'm about to inflict (even with meds on board I knew this was gonna hurt like a sonb***h)

She screamed in the most heartbreaking way. I was expecting her to bite me but instead, she just licked my hand afterwards. I looked at her and said "You have got a home little lady. You're coming with me TONIGHT."

Two days later and I've got the scar tissue thing under control but flummoxed about how to keep the leg from flipping backwards. Both back legs broken, down to one working hip and one working knee on different sides. My mentor and I put our heads together and rigged up a contraption involving small IM pins placed transversely in proximal femur and distal tibia, bent into hooks on the end, connected by steel suture to limit extension and orthodontic rubber bands to encourage dynamic flexion. We didn't have an Elizabethan collar small enough for her so I took xray film and cut one out and duck taped it together. She couldn't use either back leg, she was dragging herself along using front legs when I took her outside, cutest little Franken-puppy. Spunky as hell, little yippy barks looking at the squirrels in my yard.

A week later and pelvic fracture sequelae rear ugly head-- her abdomen is bloated, I'm in my yard at midnight giving her mineral oil enemas and promising God if He will help her poop I will build her a doggy wheelchair, I don't care if she never walks again.

Three weeks later and furball tore up her e-collar, pulled the pins out of her bone with her teeth, and two days later is somehow running in same yard attempting to catch squirrels.

Three months later she is catching them, and anything else she can find. She was my bestest friend for 8 years, she went on to survive 3 water moccasin bites, an attack by a Boxer, and liver and kidney failure (probably damage from the snakes, F**K WATER MOCCASINS). I euthanized her at 8 years old, after her last stay in the hospital for kidneys, she came out and her old skeletal injuries were causing her pain. The day she laid on the porch and watched a squirrel in front of her without trying to chase him... she looked at me with such sadness I knew this was that quality of life moment.

I took her to Popeyes and got chicken, let her eat until she was blowed up like a tick, then to the clinic. I held her in my arms and said "Goodbye my bad-a*s snake-k*****g, squirrel chasing miracle of a best friend. I love you forever."

Dammit I'm sobbing now I miss her so much guys.