Page 856 - Total War on PTSD

Bridget’s photo and information and handed them out to everyone I saw. I contacted every animal shelter, veterinarian, city hall, police station, and fire station in the surrounding area and alerted them to the situation and asked for their help. I contacted a dog tracking team to see if they could help locate her. I turned the search for Bridget into a full-time job. Every moment I was awake was dedicated to her rescue efforts. I didn't eat for four days. I made a commitment that my mission would only be complete under two conditions (1) I found Bridget or (2) I knew for certain that she was dead.
On Christmas Eve morning Bridget was found. She was curled up near some bushes on the side of a rural road in below freezing temperatures. My girlfriend was so worried about Bridget that she couldn't sleep. She got out of bed at 6a.m. and drove around looking for her. I received a call from my girlfriend at 6:30a.m.; she was in tears. Bridget was alive, but she was in bad condition. We both rushed to the nearest emergency animal hospital. When I met them there and saw Bridget for the first time, my heart sank. The spark in her eye that had warmed my heart for so long was gone. It was as if she had lost her spirit. Her captors had cut her left front leg with a knife upwards of 10 times. Her eyes were red and swollen, she had puncture wounds all over her head and neck. She was suffering from colitis (bleeding intestines), was severely dehydrated, and had been starved. She was absolutely exhausted. The poor thing had been though something terrible.
We can never know for sure, but it is likely that the massive online and media exposure spooked the criminals enough to dump her. It is speculated that she was stolen and brought into the dark world of dog fighting. She was likely cut and abused to find out how aggressive she could be. Poor, sweet, loving Bridget never deserved any of that.
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