A 3-Legged Dog is a very strange creature; I have met several of them in my previous career as a Veterinary surgeon. What has always surprised me the most about a tripod is how quickly they can recover from losing a beloved limb.
I’ve never seen one angry and I’ve never seen one obsessed with finding the prick that stole their leg; I’ve never met one full of self-loathing or pity.
A 3-legged dog doesn’t spend their years living in regret eternally mourning the leg that they’ve lost, they get back up on their three good feet and keeping looking to make friends whereever they go.
We can learn a lot from 3-legged dogs.
It’s safe to say that a 3-legged dog saved my life. His name was Scrap, and he was living rough on the streets of Europe, he was also a character in one of my screenplays.
P:S: This is the 16th in a series of blogs chronicling my adventures in Los Angeles. See “How the F@*k Did I Get Here” to begin the adventure.