Miracles do happen – and our yappy terrier Lola who came back from the dead is the proof
DO YOU believe in miracles? No? Well, I didn’t either until our dog came back from the dead over Easter. Or the nearest thing to it. I was woken about 2am on Sunday by a strange knocking noise from the kitchen and when I wandered down I found little Lola, our four-year-old Yorkie, in the middle of a violent fit.
She was thrashing about on the kitchen floor, frothing at the mouth, her body rigid, eyes fixed and unseeing.
We hurriedly wrapped her in a blanket and raced her to the 24-hour veterinary clinic at UCD.
When we got there she was still in seizure and we were told, gently but firmly, that our little terrier was in a truly bad way.
Toxic poisoning? Epilepsy? Anyone’s guess at that stage.
She seemed lost and locked in deep unconsciousness, but we were told not to give up. There could be a miracle. And that’s what it would have to be.
But we knew the decision to put her to sleep might have to be made in the coming days. We braced ourselves.
Then a call on Monday evening. It was to tell us that the comatose, lifeless Lola we had visited a few hours earlier was sitting up. And eating.
Say again? I was afraid to believe it. Because it’s the hope that breaks you.
But when we dropped in the next morning, she tottered over to us on her unsteady little legs, her tail trying desperately to wag.
Exhausted, confused, bedraggled, bandaged but alive. And going home.
The clinic staff were as incredulous as we were. They’d rarely seen a pet so sick beat odds stacked that tall.
But miracles don’t just happen. Somebody has to believe in them in the first place and everybody in UCD did.
They gave Lola every chance.
And then a few more.
That was down to vets like Natalie, Orla and Poppy.
Not to mention a dedicated support staff who willed her first to stay alive and then get better.
A week on, the miracle continues. Lola is nearly there. Ninety per cent, I’d say. She’s back to being yappy, to throwing shapes at cats and chasing bouncing balls.
If she remembers the terrible ordeal she went through, she doesn’t let on.
We, on the other hand, will stay traumatised for a few dog years to come.
He seems to have an instinctive flair for the medium.
Dermot doesn’t just talk to the nation.
He talks to you. Personally.
Latest viewership figures show that he is probably the most popular presenter on Irish television right now.
Women fantasise about the light he might let into their lives, let alone their kitchen.
Men simply watch because they don’t want to leave their wives alone in the living-room with him.
But the very thing that has made ‘Room To Improve’ such essential viewing may be about to be lost.
The show’s success was built on Dermot’s seductive charm and his ability to transform a dreary semi into a to-die-for crib.
But of late that show has been more about the home-owners. The flakier, the better.
It’s not just about creating the dream pad anymore, but more about conflict, spats and on-site hissy fits.
So back to the drawing board for the next series, Dermot.
Let some of that lovely light back in.