God’s Opossum

 

Foreword

On April 14, 2009, I had my right foot amputated. When I was 10 years old a bully knocked me under our school bus that ran over my right foot, which would eventually lead to amputation 46 years later. But that is another story yet without it, this one would not be told.

*******

While recovering from my surgery in 2009, I was home and did PT with our new bestest pup Baxter at my side. We also had several cats, with Lexie often sitting in my wheelchair when I was on the couch. I looked forward to a future I could not have imagined, returning to running in races I thought were oncei mpossible to reach.

We had a sweet feral kitty that I fed on the front porch. I’d wheel out to the door and place food and water by a sidelight. There I could watch the kitty eat and she would often sleep in the nearby flower bed.

E.K. aka Joni Mitchell

 I should mention I named feral kitty “Joni Mitchell” but my wife was unimpressed by the moniker, so she became “E.K.” short for “Extra Kitty”. We did try to bring her into our home, but her feral ways did not suit anyone at all. She had a constant need to test gravity on fragile objects and so was returned to the great outdoor freedom. I did feel bad for her being outside but she did seem to love that life. Our climate was usually on the mild side and other neighbors looked after her as well.

 *******

One late night I went to check to see if E.K. was outside when I saw the back of a new cat at the food bowl. It finished eating and started cleaning itself, licking these delicate feet and washing over its ears. I noticed the long, hairless tail and realized that this animal was no cat at all but an opossum.

I have to admit before now I found possums rather, uh, distasteful. Okay, really ugly and disgusting. But here on my porch a transformation happened and it happened to me. This animal was really quite beautiful up close, with finely shaped features, feet looked more like infants hands, fur that was full and muted color, and a very sweet face. Small ears, delicate as porcelain.

I would come to think of “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame,” and an old movie version that had deeply touched me as a child. How disfigured Quasimodo was on the outside but whose spirit was the of pure love. That beauty changes when ignorance is stripped away.

We kept our garage door cracked for E.K. although she seemed to prefer the pine straw in the flowerbeds. I soon discovered the opossum had found a corner of the garage for shelter. I really hated having to shoo it out as it was not safe with the cars coming and going. But my understanding and bond with these misunderstood creatures was growing strong.

And so I became a friend to opossums.

*******

Here in 2025 I am still running though the age of gravity has became an anchor I drag about on my runs. But I have been a runner all my life and it gives me such joy in being alive and moving free. We now live in the upstate of SC, and unlike the lowcountry where the only hills are called bridges, all of my outdoor runs are done on this rolling terrain.

On my last outside run before summer’s vengeance – I mainly run on a treadmill during these hot months – I had two animal related incidents.

I was trying to run faster this day when I came across an enthusiastic pup running out in a residential neighborhood street. It was a French bulldog, no doubt someone’s pet scampered outside to enjoy the wonders of liberty. Fortunately another runner appeared who worked with me to find the owner, who appeared about 20 minutes later looking for his fugitive. I was on the phone at the time calling animal control because I was afraid he would get run over. With that event done and the day warming, I set off for the nearby park and then the return run home.

In this run there is a low area with a drainage stream and some woods beyond where we saw wild turkeys when we first moved here. Also a raptor would perch atop a light pole and watch us pass by. As I was coming back from the park on my last mile, I came to this place. I sensed movement to my right and stopped cold.

There, struggling to walk and showing injuries even from a distance, was a baby opossum coming directly to me. As it got closer I could see a mangled tail, some cuts, and flies buzzing about as they would on something dead. The little animal was in a terrible state and I was overcome with its horrible situation.

After frantically trying to arrange help with a rehab group on Facebook, my vet gave me the number for Paws Animal Wildlife Sanctuary. Initially they wanted me to take it to another rescue organization, but when they saw a pic of the injured baby they quickly gave me directions to their facility. She (as I would come to find out) was in desperate need of help, so near her death.

I called my wife and she brought our dog’s puppy kennel and some garden gloves. I was so distraught over the condition of the baby and did my best to keep my emotions in check. I was able to get the possum into the kennel and the little animal still had some spunk, showing me those fearsome baby teeth.

I was glad to see this, thinking she might could survive beyond this day. I had studied a bit about opossums from the previous encounter and understood the behavior is almost purely defensive, but you need to respect them. They are shy creatures and just want to be left alone to live. Surely we can all understand that need.

The flies seemed desperate to make her miserable, aggressively buzzing about her injured body. I shoo them away and get the kennel in the car. We drove home, I change out of my running clothes and got on the road to Paws near Laurens, SC.

I was met there by a wonderful lady who took the baby in while I did some paperwork. We both knew the little one was in bad shape and survival might be a long road. The girl already had maggots in her ears, it was so horrible and hard to imagine her pain and distress.

Still, what if I hadn’t found her, that she approached me in her time of need at the exact moment I ran by? And why me? Could the answer be this was meant to be, not a coincidence but a design? My mind raced around, thinking how cruel nature can be and why would a creator design an existence that had such brutality and beauty.

A Desperate Situation

I don’t know. I am not a religious person, not in any traditional way. But a thought came into my mind, that this is God’s opossum, and we should care for it. Maybe this is but a simulation, that would explain much to me if not all. I do not know nor think I ever know while I live.

But this tiny creature in need came to me, and I came to the person whose calling and purpose in life was to help the helpless, the injured, the least of these. That was her calling.

God’s opossum.


“And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”

- Matthew 25:40

That evening the day’s events were heavy on my mind, wondering if the tiny baby would live. Our pup Stella, who almost always lies on my wife’s lap or by her side, came to lie by me. She would do this for the next several days.

*******

Nearly one month later, I took a mourning dove to Paws that was walking about our pool deck. No obvious injury but definitely something very wrong. At Paws another woman would be taking this dove and some other birds to a facility that would treat them.

While there I was able to see the little girl again and what a sweet reunion it was. That she had survived against all odds and was healing, getting stronger and bigger, was such a small miracle. She laid her head against volunteer and it was a moment filled with comfort and hope.

Curly Sue is her name. She will live with caring people for the rest of her life. Safe from harm, not released into the wild as she cannot survive on her own. There are so many stories that do not end well though they all do end.

Having one with the happiest of endings is...joy.

Curly Sue: One Month Later

Please learn more and help here:

https://www.pawssc.org/

A Long Ago Dream

I saw small five dogs, lying still end to end, along the edge of the sidewalk. At first I thought they were dead, line up like that, all about the same size, mostly white with some light tan patches.

As they started squirming and wagging their tails, I realized the dogs were playing in a way I have never seen, like little boys playing a game they had imagined a moment before.

I looked to my left, and there were hundreds of puppies, coming up the road, shepherded by a few people. They were like the other dogs in size and color, and seemed happy with that joy puppies share in life.

My brother and I were on horses, and we were riding to the side of the road. I feared we might step on the puppies, but they moved around us like smooth stones in a river.

We rode up into a meadow, full of flowers like none I had ever seen or could imagine. Crystalline blue glass, strange geometries of changing light, bowing and nodding in the breeze.

Again I feared we would break them as we rode through the waving blooms, but none were touched. The color changes from the blue to a purple light in shapes I cannot describe, passionflowers reborn in a new world.

We were then sitting on the side of five steps, my father at the top, my brother at my side. They were wearing white Bridge Run tee shirts, mine was dark. We talked and laughed and there were no worries, no troubles, only happiness and joy.

I woke up and thought about this dream and whether or not this was my glimpse of heaven. My pets will be in my heaven, but this heaven of dogs would be one my brother would inhabit, and one he shared with me.

Dedication

Just a few days away now from the Bayshore Marathon, my first marathon since 2016. Training is done and all that is left is to run a few easy miles, try not to forget to pack everything, and keep checking the weather every 5 minutes. :)

There is always so much uncertainty in a race but definitely amplified for this distance. I will have family for support that is without question a force that will help me when the going gets tough.

Lately I have been thinking about my mom often, how she supported me when she saw my passion running as a child and even tried to get me coaching when it simply wasn't available where we lived. I think how I wish I could do the impossible and tell her only now can I appreciate what I had, a mother who always loved me and never let me doubt who I was or what I could do.

I can hear her voice now, calling me "Ricky" as I was known as a kid, telling me I can do this. I can see her face and feel her presence and know too I will see her in my mind and heart as I take to the starting line. And remember.

*******

If There Are Any Heavens

if there are any heavens my mother will(all by herself)have

one.   It will not be a pansy heaven nor

a fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley but

it will be a heaven of blackred roses

 

my father will be(deep like a rose

tall like a rose)

 

standing near my

 

swaying over her

(silent)

with eyes which are really petals and see

 

nothing with the face of a poet really which

is a flower and not a face with

hands

which whisper

This is my beloved my

 

        (suddenly in sunlight

 

he will bow,

 

&the whole garden will bow)

                                                                 - e.e. cummings

Mom and Me
Hannibal MO October 1, 2007

American Academy of Orthotists and Prosthetists - March 3, 20222

Brent Wright and me

I had a fantastic time at the American Academy of Orthotists and Prosthetists yesterday. Met some amazing professionals at Hewlett-Packard and their partners in this great endeavor.

One thing that struck me over and over is how well these people worked together for a common goal, to produce the best outcomes for current and future patients. What a great profession of caring individuals.

I gave an abbreviated version of my story at the HP 3D printing presentation, strange how it comes to life in my mind when I do this, especially the emotions that surface in this journey. I realize how fortunate I am to touch my dreams through the efforts of an army of healthcare professionals.

This could not have happened had I not been a patient at ProCare Prosthetics & Orthotics, and having worked with such dedicated prosthetists there. The teams and facilities Stephen A. Schulte has created and specially the efforts of Shane Grubbs allowed me to me to work in the development of a one-of-its-kind-in-the-world running prosthesis. Shane's passion for his profession parallels mine for running, he loves his work and is ever looking to improve the lives of amputees.

Brent Wright has been working with Shane to produce my current 3D printed running prosthesis. He was kind enough to walk the AAOP exhibit floor and talk to some of the professionals there. He, like Shane, loves his work and I am fortunate to come to know him.

Outer Socket Showing Vacuum at Knee 

 

I would say it is unbelievable but I was there so... There is so much promise in this technology, I am very familiar with HP printers in my former job and know as the equipment becomes more advanced and volumes go up, prices come down and can be available to a much wider market.

We still have a ways to go, but the fact I have run for 15 weeks now with zero blisters or other skins issues is something that I've haven't done for at least 8 years. Plus my current long run is 17 miles and almost 60 miles for my 9 day training block.

I am not sure I can achieve the time I need to run at my next marathon in order to qualify for the competitive Boston mobility impaired division, but I do believe I can run such a time at Boston in 2023 with the training I can now do. I will be 70 then, something probably even more unbelievable to me. Whatever the future brings, its promise is brighter than ever for disabled athletes.

It is a good day to run, now and tomorrow.

Running to Tomorrow

3D Printed Inner Socket

We are on our third prototype socket as seen above. The main difference is it is completely skinned,  that is you don't see the lattice structure of the previous two designs.

Those designs were initially in response to a problem I was having with distal fib swelling. This was caused by a single surgical screw what was employed to hold my Ertl type leg reconstruction together while the bones fused to each other.

X-ray showing exposed screw

Over time the screw caused irritation and sharp pain and induced swelling as the leg remodeled itself. This most likely caused the eventual blisters that were the bane of my running for years and made any distance running impossible without severe consequences.

I had the surgical screw issue finally identified by Dr. Ohlson and it was removed on December 15, 2020 in an out-patient procedure that was fairly quick. Pain was minimal and I jogged my first post-surgery mile on January 21, 2021.

Screw removal stitches

So we continue to refine my 3D prosthesis with modifications to the inner socket and I suspect outer frame in time. I seriously doubt I would have had access to this new technology at this point in time had I not had this screw issue. Shane Grubbs, my prosthetist, dogged pursuit of a solution brought us all together. The old adage "opportunity in adversity" is a recurring theme in my running saga, and it has taught me humility and patience far beyond any natural inclinations for those traits.

I have been asked by HP to join them at their booth at the American Academy of Orthotists and Prosthetists (AAOP) on March 3, 2022 to highlight this new technology and the benefits it offers. It will be an honor to meet the some of the people who have made great advances in prosthetics and helped me return to distance running.

I ran 17 miles two days ago, and although I did have to make some modifications to my fib head area for fit, I ran the distance with no blisters and little post-run muscle soreness. For years this had not been possible for me.

Now...I run to tomorrow.

2013 Boston Starting Line

Left to right: Randy Spellman, Mike Lenhart, Me, MD Shariff Abdullah, Kelly Luckett, BethAnn Perkins

The Long and Winding Road

My first 3D printed inner socket

 

 It has been a while since I worked on this blog, which is basically and account of my amputee running journey.

I intent to restart soon as I am attempting to qualify for the 2023 Boston Marathon, which will be the 10 year anniversary of my first marathon...and one that will live forever in history in the love that rose from the ashes of hate.

Much has happened in the time from my last postings until now. Lost family, new residence, and considerable prosthetic trials.

It has been a journey I could never have anticipated, yet one I embrace daily. I will be 70 should I make it to the starting line in Hopkinton in 2023. Covid has had a shouting say in our lives that may yet cause disruptions, but there is nothing I can do about that.

What I am doing is training to my goal, aided by a tremendously dedicated prosthetist - Shane Grubbs - who has gone far beyond the extra mile in getting me back to consistent training.

We cannot know what tomorrow will bring, yes, life is that box of chocolates.

Let us have One More.

My Litter Mate

The fields are so large I could run forever in one direction
and then forever back.

There is no end to these fields.

Baxter

In Mongolia, when a dog dies, he is buried high in the hills so people cannot walk on his grave. The dog’s master whispers in the dog’s ear his wishes that the dog will return as a man in his next life.


Then his tail is cut off and put beneath his head, and a piece of meat of fat is cut off and placed in his mouth to sustain his soul for its journey; before he is reincarnated, the dog’s soul is freed to travel the land, to run across the high desert plains for as long as it would like.


I learned that from a program on the National Geographic Channel, so I believe it is true. Not all dogs return as men, they say; only those who are ready.


I am ready.

- Enzo, "The Art of Racing in the Rain" (Garth Stein)