FETCHING PERSONALITIES

Love is blind

With one misstep, Daphne was sinking like a stone to the bottom of the Corporons’ swimming pool. Born blind and with vestibular disease, which impairs balance, the dog’s first few years were difficult. But this plunge was especially petrifying. Bill Corporon was right there — heard the splash and caught the last glimpse of cotton-white fur as it disappeared beneath the surface. He dove in after her, performed CPR, rushed her to the emergency clinic and paid the tab. It wasn’t the first or last of Daphne’s hefty medical expenses, but Corporon and his wife, Kathy, say this “incredible crea- ture” is worth every cent. “She is a friend, a family member and an investment,” says Kathy, a former physical therapist with a soft spot for people and animals with disabilities. “They have always tugged at my heart,” she says.

At an adoption event almost 17 years ago, Daphne stood out in an otherwise healthy litter of mixed-breed spitzes. She clung like a Koala cub to Kathy’s shoulder. For four hours straight, Kathy says, “we didn’t let go of each other.”

Daphne developed glaucoma and needed both eyes surgically removed. The glassy prosthetic replacements, unnoticeable at a glance, serve purely cosmetic purposes. When Daphne was 11, the vet removed her inflamed gall bladder, a $5,000 procedure. A few years ago her hearing began to go; now she’s totally deaf.

But Daphne doesn’t seem to know she has so many ailments. She is perky despite the aches and pains of age; her sense of smell helps her navigate the world and recognize those she loves, Kathy says. “We now refer to her lovingly as our little Helen Keller.”

Neighbor Abbie Skipworth is a therapist who sometimes she needs a little help from her chocolate lab, Dirk.

Dirk is a dog that never knew a stranger. As a certified therapy dog, he sometimes accompanies Skipworth to her office, where she works with kids and adults who struggle with anxiety and depression.

“Having him there really softens people up,” Skipworth says.

His job isn’t complicated. He just does what he does best — giving and receiving love.

“With certain clients, I’ll bring him in and

Mama’s little helper

he’ll just lay on the couch with them,” she explains. “It helps them to pet him while they’re talking about something really hard. Some- elderly lady in the parking lot came up with her husband and told Dirk that she had been pricked and prodded all day and that just to get to see him and pet him made her day so much better,” Skipworth remembers. “That’s when I decided to get him certified.” times younger clients can play with him, or they’ll tell him things they feel like they can’t tell me.”

Recently he’s also been helping out at home.

Even before he was a certified therapy dog, Dirk was a great listener.

“One day I was taking him home, and an

“Just a little bit ago we were teaching him how to go get a diaper,” Skipworth says with a laugh.

“He’ll get it, but he chews it up a little bit on the way,” her husband Wes Skipworth points out.

Lucky Linus

Dr. Cassie Knapp first met Linus the pit bull when he arrived at Metro Paws Animal Hospital, where she works as a veterinarian.

He was only a few months old when a family brought him in because he stopped using his front legs. She performed x-rays and found out both legs were fractured, which indicated he suffered some sort of fall.

Knapp gathered a surgical estimate, but the family balked. They loved Linus, but they couldn’t afford treatment. The next day Knapp called the family and asked if they’d be willing to sign over Linus’ care to her.

“My intention at that time was to do surgery, rehabilitate him and then probably give him to a pit bull rescue or adopt him out,” Knapp explains. She already had a dog and chickens, so taking in another pet wasn’t in the cards.

She ended up having to amputate his front right leg, which was too injured to rehabilitate. His other leg healed beautifully.

“Five days into having him under my watch, I decided this dog isn’t going anywhere; he’s a part of the family now,” Knapp says. “He’s got an old soul.”

Since his first surgery, Knapp has had to perform surgery on him twice more — once to remove grass that was stuck in his stomach and once after a neighborhood dog bit a chunk out of his ear.

When he’s not going under the knife, Knapp says Linus enjoys “skipping” around White Rock Lake on his three good legs.