While on holidays at Christmas 2006, at a coastal village north of Sydney Australia, we were admiring the views from the lighthouse which is 60 metres above sea level with a vertical drop to the rocks below. We heard what sounded like the feint cries of an injured bird. The cries were coming from the bushes on the edge of the cliff over the safety fence. My husband Peter, climbed over the fence to find what it was.
Holding on to the fence and searching in the bushes, he found what was making the noise. It was not an injured bird, but a tiny black puppy. It was so small, it could fit in the palm of one hand. He put the puppy under his shirt to keep it warm.
We took him to a vet who said the puppy was only a few hours old because part of the umbilical cord was still attached and it was a boy. The vet advised us how to stimulate the puppy to pee and poop and how to feed him with a bottle and teat. The vet also advised that despite all our efforts, the puppy may not survive.
Not keeping him was never an option.
If we had we not found him, he would not have survived. We assume he had been dumped with the rest of his litter and he had become tangled in the bushes which prevented him from going over the cliff with the other puppies.
Until we returned home, we kept him safe and warm in an esky (Australian for cooler box) with a hot water bottle.
Given the circumstances, Esky seemed an appropriate name for him.
He is an Australian kelpie cross and now a very spoilt and loved member of our family.
Woodford NSW, Australia
