Friday, October 24, 2014

The Transformation of a Shelter Dog: Laird Woodrow the Wirehaired of the House of Gore-Lancaster

Until yesterday,                        23 October 2014, at 3:00 p.m. CST, this was Jack, an innocent dog-person condemned to die through the fault of irresponsible human-persons: first and foremost, the human-person who owned Jack's mother and failed to spay her; second, the human-person who owned Jack's father and failed to neuter him; third, the human-person who abandoned him.  These perpetrators may have been  three separate irresponsible human-persons, or they may have been one human-person whose crimes of irresponsibility are manifold. Shame on the guilty for bringing more unwanted dog-babies into the world when 6.3 innocent dog-babies are already born for every innocent human-baby. 

However, yesterday at 3:01 p.m. CST, Jack's fate was transformed by the magic of love: Jack the Condemned to Die Through No Fault of His Own became Laird Woodrow the Wirehaired of the House of Gore-Lancaster.  This transformation required only a few swipes of the pen, $55, and a lifetime commitment of love, time and money from the whole fam-damily. 

Our Woodrow will be a dog-person adored from this day forward, although his adopted sister, Lady Callie (now 70+ in dog years), will see that he remains Second Dog while she remains Top Dog.

But appearances are often deceiving, and magic often produces results other than what we intended.  So here's the story.

Woodrow had sat on death row for more than three weeks; his cuteness factor gave him extra time while his kennel mates met their untimely ends.  His bio on said he was an adult, and I'd been laboring under that misconception for two weeks. Yesterday, however, the shelter employee said he was six to eight months old, so I thought, O.....kay. Well, he's pretty close to full size.  But the vet told me three minutes ago that he is only four months old and is going to get twice as big.  He's gonna be a bonny, strapping boy.  Not exactly what I had in mind, but apparently what God did.  "Ha HA!" said God.  Who happens to be the Ultimate Magician.
So Laird Woodrow the Wirehaired, my 30-pound dog-person, will become my 60-pound dog-person.  But that's okay.  Twice as much dog for the money. Twice as much magic.  Twice as much love.  Darn good deal if you ask me. 

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