Atış’s Fight to Keep His Leg

This is Atış a hit & run patient waiting for the ambulance to take him to the animal hospital. In pain & concerned this boy had every right to be. Because the poor soul had been living with a broken leg for two weeks. Not two days, two weeks.

Two weeks of trying to walk on it. Two weeks of pain. Two weeks of sleeping rough with an injury that should have had urgent care from day one.

Despite his ordeal he was such a good boy, he didn’t let his pain or fear overcome him. He trusted that we were there to help him & he went gladly, no growls, no snapping, no muzzle needed. He was the model patient.

But we knew this wasn’t going to be a simple fix.

“If we’d seen him the day it happened, this would have been a straightforward
fix but two weeks changes everything.”

Why time matters with a fracture

People often assume a broken bone is just a matter of setting it and letting it heal.

If only it were that simple.

The body doesn’t wait patiently for medical help. It starts repairing immediately, even if things aren’t aligned properly. Scar tissue forms. Swelling builds. Early bone starts knitting together sometimes crooked, sometimes twisted, sometimes locked into completely the wrong position.

By the time a vet steps in weeks later, they’re not dealing with a clean break anymore. They’re dealing with the body’s rushed attempt to patch things up. And that makes surgery far more complicated.

Instead of simply stabilising the bone, the team often has to undo what’s already started healing, carefully realign everything, and then rebuild it properly.

It’s slower. It’s more invasive. And it carries more risk.

The hidden challenges you don’t see

There’s more going on beneath the surface, too.

When a dog protects an injured leg for that long, muscles tighten and joints stiffen. Blood flow drops. Tissue becomes inflamed and fragile. For a street dog, there’s also dirt, bacteria, licking all the things you don’t want near a surgical site.

Bone healing relies on good circulation and healthy tissue. Without that, recovery becomes unpredictable.

So saving the leg isn’t just about bones.

It’s about everything around them.

“We’re not just fixing a fracture. We’re fighting swelling, stiffness, poor circulation all at once. It’s like trying to repair something while the ground keeps shifting under you.”

Why we’re still trying to save the leg

People sometimes ask why we don’t simply amputate and move on.

And sometimes, that is the only option when the injury is catastrophic.

But if there’s a safe, realistic chance to keep a leg we always try.

For Atış, our vets chose to use a plate alongside an external fixator to hold everything steady while the bone heals.

If you’ve seen the video, you’ll know it looks a bit frightening at first glance. Metal bars and pins never look gentle. But it’s actually one of the best tools veterinary surgeons have. It stabilises the bone from the outside without putting extra stress on damaged tissue.

It isn’t scary. It’s clever. It’s what gives him the best chance.

But human hearts don’t like them which is why we used a soft filter on the footage because while it’s medically brilliant, we know it can look daunting to human eyes.

The Hard Truth About Healing

There’s also something we always try to be open about with complex fractures like this: there are no guarantees. Even with a plate and an external fixator perfectly placed, healing isn’t something we can force it still depends on Atış’s body doing the work.

Bone needs strong blood supply, healthy surrounding tissue, and time. Because the injury is already two weeks old, circulation has been compromised, inflammation is higher, and the early healing that started in the wrong position can slow or disrupt proper repair.

Infection, implant failure, or the bone simply refusing to knit, what vets call a non-union are all risks we have to watch for. The fixator gives him the best possible chance, but it isn’t magic. It’s support, not certainty.

Small Steps, Big Healing

With fractures like this, gentle movement as soon as possible is vital. Bone heals best when there’s good circulation, and circulation comes from use. Those tiny, careful steps get blood flowing to the repair site, bring oxygen and nutrients to the tissue, and help prevent stiffness setting into joints and muscles. In other words, movement isn’t a setback it’s medicine.

That’s why we were so encouraged when Atış started asking to go outside for the toilet almost straight away. Not carried. Not coaxed. Just quietly letting us know he wanted to get up and potter out on his own. It might sound small, but it’s actually a very good sign. It tells us he’s comfortable enough to move, strong enough to try, and already helping his body heal.

And there’s something else people don’t often think about. Street-born dogs don’t cope especially well with hospitalisation. Most have never even been inside a building before. The sounds, the smells, the confinement it’s all unfamiliar and stressful, and stress slows healing too. So every moment he feels brave enough to step outside, feel the air, and do something normal and dog-like again matters more than we can explain.

He’s taking those baby steps.
We’re right beside him.
And for now, that’s more than enough.

Please keep Atış in your thoughts as he continues to heal. We’re so proud of this big lad who is a very brave fighter.