A street dog is usually found running around, free and hard to catch. Not me. My tale is a sad one.

I was once free and wild. Then one day when I was wandering I was hit by a car, very hard on my back.

I could not move.

A kind man came to pick me up; I thought he would try to help me? He placed me in a box, I felt safe but he left me at the side of the road.

I thought he would come back to help me. Four days later I was still waiting for him. They were the longest days I could remember. Car lights passed me and blinded me at night, maybe, just maybe someone would stop or he would come back.

Some water, some food and kindness please? I could not get it for myself.

I was cold, hungry, in pain and lying in my own dirt. I gave up!

Then someone appeared. Should I trust them? No! But they spoke so kindly to me and held me gently; they knew I was in pain. I now know them as Everydaystray, those people who help street dogs.

I let them lift me into a car and take me. Where too? I was so frightened and in pain I cannot remember. I had been taken to get treatment, a place of lights and medicine.

I had now swapped the box to a cage to begin my journey to a place I did not know or expect. I was very scared but also relieved that I had been taken off the road.

I woke up to the sound of lots of dogs, all sounding happy. Where was I? I had arrived at the shelter.

I was taken to my own kennel, NO box! NO chain! Just me and my shattered legs lying against a warm clean bed next to food and water which I had longed for.

After a while and a lot of tests at the vets the team thought they would get me a set of wheels so I could get about. Neil contacted a specialist of prosthetic equipment.

Hey they could soon be calling me ‘Speedy Sandy’ down at the shelter!