Good Morning, yes yes it is.

In case you haven't had a good morning in a while, let me remind you what they look like.

They look like this....

 

And this.....

 

Yeah I know what you're thinking.

"Gawd Reb, we know you have dogs, so what's the big deal?  We thought this was a post about good mornings."

And I say, "Oh yes it is Grasshopper.  And no, I'm not just regaling you with photos of dogs.  There's a story here, and after you read it, you might agree that it IS a good morning!"

So right in the middle of some important thing or another, I got a call from a shelter on Monday.  The above little hounds were occupying space at their beautiful facility.  (And yes it IS beautiful and yes, these people ROCK.)  Anyway, these two wayward hounds were there and frightened.  Their previous owner suffered some sort of head trauma and couldn't care for them.

And that's all I needed to hear.

But there was more. 

Because they were so frightened, and somewhat older (if they were people, they'd be 50 or so), they just weren't going to make it to the adoption floor.  In other words, they were being kept in a back area and no one looking to adopt a dog would know they were there.  Besides, who's going to adopt two dogs that are too frightened to even come close?

But it gets worse.

These little houndlets had until close of business last night to be out of there.  Or their little lives were over.

You want to see a rescuer move her tubby ass in a quick-like fashion?  Mention "out of time" and "dogs" in the same sentence.  And then don't stand behind the car as I'm backing out of the driveway, because I don't stop when that puppy's in reverse!

So this morning, Wednesday, I stumbled out in search of Coke and cigarettes, only to be stopped short by the sight of two tiny dogs, curled up in a bed, one's head laid carefully and protectively over the other.  They wagged at me in the early morning darkness of the kitchen.  I stood there watching them, they came to stand up to my leg and wag.  And I felt about 20 feet tall. 

And they felt alive, and warm, and waggy, and they had to pee.  And they did....in the backyard like good little hounds.  And they were alive.

Something they weren't going to be as of seven o'clock last night.

I know.  Think about that for a minute.

And now their future looks great.  They'll stay together, in rescue (either here at my house or at a foster home) until the right family comes along to adopt them.  They will continue their lives as loving and loyal friends, they will lick away tears, wag at celebrations, sleep on laps...because that is their destiny.  Not to become the victims of too much overcrowding at the doggie jail.

They are alive, and there are many, many more out there needing YOU to keep them that way.

Spay and neuter, and adopt.  There are lives out there depending on it. 

Believe me, you'll never forget what a good morning is, ever again.

 

Comments

[Sobbing in Flagstaff]

...they are gorgeous, and you...well, you're pretty special too <3