Bill O’Boyle

Bill O’Boyle

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WILKES-BARRE — The deer pictured we call Bad Paw.

She has a bad leg.

She was probably hit by a car.

Bad Paw can run with all her friends and her new baby, Little Paw.

Bad Paw likes to hang out under my friends’ deck. We feed her apples. Bad Paw loves apples.

Bad Paw is beautiful.

I have a deep connection to Bad Paw. I have seen how she continues to live her life, despite having a bit of a disability that I am certain also causes her some pain.

But Bad Paw lives through it. She enjoys her life.

My parents, as I have written several times, each had a “bad paw,” so to speak.

My mom had polio as a child and wore a brace on her right leg, which never fully developed.

My dad lost his left leg in World War II when he stepped on a land mine.

Neither of my parents ever allowed their disability to hinder them. They were always fully functional and they would never use their disability as an excuse.

My parents were far more functional than I was. So, as a result of witnessing their abilities all my young life, I gained a real appreciation of the abilities of people with disabilities.

And those of animals too. Like Bad Paw.

I tell you this because I think we all need to realize that people bring a lot to the table — all people. And we should never assume anything about a person with a disability. We should accept everyone for who they are and any assumptions should be based on a person’s abilities.

So now when I go to the grocery store, I pick up a bag of apples. Not for me. For bad paw.

I then go to my friends’ house when they are away and I bring the apples and a paring knife.

As soon as Bad Paw hears my car door slam, she appears from under the deck. She stands 15 feet away and watches as I cut up the apples and toss them to her.

These apples bring joy to bad paw. She devours two or three apples and she always looks for more.

Bad Paw trusts me. But she trusts my friend more. My friend also fills a bowl with water for Bad paw to drink during these recent hot days and nights.

There’s a lesson here. Bad Paw has taught me not to feel sorry for her, which I must confess I still do. She constantly shows us that she is fine. She runs and jumps like, well, like a deer. She is also a mommy, taking care of her baby just like any mommy would.

When I look at Bad Paw, I talk to her. She stands and listens. She endures my gibberish only because she knows I will feed her apples.

I have told Bad Paw that I think we should not call her Bad Paw. We should come up with another name, more fitting of the beautiful creature that she is. I’m thinking a name like Sweetie, or Pretty Girl or something more complimentary.

But Bad Paw doesn’t care. A name doesn’t matter. She has found a comfort zone at my friends’ home. She likes to lay in the grass and sleep under the deck.

Bad Paw knows that she is loved and cared for and that she can count on getting a couple of apples almost every day.

Yes, we accept Bad Paw for who she is — a beautiful, child-bearing deer who refuses to allow her disability to get in the way of living her life to the fullest.

Like I said, there is a lesson to be learned here.

Reach Bill O’Boyle at 570-991-6118 or on Twitter @TLBillOBoyle.