Ozzy was rescued on June 14 in Trikala, Greece. He was found in the town’s train station, as he was trying to seek asylum in the booking office, trying to find a place where he could hide from the world – this ugly, dirty world we built and we no longer deserve to live in.
What appeared to be wound on the left side of his tiny, tiny body were actually chemical burns, caused by an unknown chemical substance. Someone just decided to pour acid on him, and now this someone is walking around among us, having his coffee in the same cafe as we do, maybe even going to school with our kids – because it’s very possible that this someone is a child, you never know.
Ozzy was rescued by the local charity. He was eight weeks old. A few before, he was probably still breastfeeding, and suddenly he ended up at a clinic, recovering from life. Ozzy is the kind of puppy that never made a sound, while he was being treated and cleaned and examined. He just stood there, silent.
He was on painkillers and antibiotics, and he kept going for weeks. He would eat well and be as patient as can be. The people who rescued him kept saying that “he is a fighter” – he had no other choice but to fight anyway, he simply hadn’t.
Ozzy had lost one ear and one eye. His wounds were being cleaned every day, and appeared to be healing. But Ozzy got tired of fighting. Nobody is supposed to fight that hard when he is only two months old. Within two months, Ozzy went through more than most of us go through in a lifetime.
On June 30, 2017, 16 days after his rescue, Ozzy stopped fighting. He died surrounded by love, and is now at a much better place. And we are stuck here, in a world that will keep “producing” more Ozzy’s for us to rescue, and treat, and lose and cry for.
If you wish to help the charity that rescued him, you can follow their Facebook page here.