Butch, as his father began calling him before he was old enough to walk, was just a simple country boy, living a simple country life in western North Carolina during the early 1950's. That is, until he encountered the same assailant that was attacking many other children during this same period...polio. Although only five and a half years-old at the time he was hospitalized by the harmful disease, the memories of the terrible ordeals he faced were indelibly seared into his brain. This occurred during a time when local hospitals were being overrun by children stricken by the epidemic, until the only one that would admit them, in that part of the state, was an old refurbished mansion tucked away in the mountains, just outside of Asheville. The old building was soon filled to capacity with sick children. So much so, that volunteer nurses were sent there by the American Red Cross, and could only be housed in tents supplied by the army. This predicated a very regimented and barracks-style treatment that would be frowned upon in today's more politically correct society. Butch spent six long weeks there without the comfort and security of his parents, and very little empathy from the nurses to make up for it. After finally being released, he was left with a withered upper torso and an emotionally scarred mind. His army-trained, domineering father seemed to think he had a cure for the former, but the latter went untreated, and soon became even worse. Just when it appeared all hope was lost and the boy would never be able to resume a normal childhood, a little puppy mysteriously enters his life and, suddenly, everything is changed. What transpires afterward, is a series of astounding and miraculous events that defy logic and understanding, until the dog, just as mysteriously, departs.