So apparently being furry, friendly and precocious does not get you off DOGGY DEATHROW. This is what I discovered early last week. Word on the street is that I am continuing to loose my battle against falling in to DOMESTIC BLISS. I had been in contact with an impressive 15 yr old volunteer at the animal control center in UKIAH. We had been discussing the imminent arrival of a tail wagging, drooling addition to mine and MPP's East Bay Gay Stepford campaign.
The dog in question was a terrier mix. MPP and I are certain there is some boxer? and definitely Basenji ( a gorgeous but stubborn willed dog hailing from the country my ancestors were ripped from- the mother Africa).
Some might wonder why MPP and I would endeavor to trek up to "Yippy You-Kye-Aye" and not simply pop over to the Oak-Town or SF SPCA. I have an actual answer for those jellybeans. It seems there is a shortage of doggies and kitties here. In fact, the Ukiah shelter often ships our abandoned/lost pals to us out here as they have a surplus of animals.
The dog in question, who would later become known as "Jasper" was only 8 months old with no special needs or problems i.e. he wasn't blind, 3 legged or emotionally wrecked. I was told that because of this Jasper's "time was running out". More "troubled or needy" pets would get transferred, placed whatever and well Jasper-- he'd be lucky to see Christmas.
So I discussed this with MPP, while he was GARDENING out on the front lawn of our charming split level home(fully equipped with the manicured lawn and only missing a white picket fence).
So as you all can see, taking a scenic two hour drive up through the hills of our gorgeous state with the one I adore, to rescue a dog from "the chair" wasn't exactly putting me out.
We were greeted by an incredibly friendly and knowledgeable staff, then lead through a long narrow corridor where the not too subtle fragrances of urine,feces and wet dog hair collided. My head was light, but my heart was sinking. Consequently, I suppose I evened myself out some how.
When the main door opened, we were met with the frantic yelping and barking of at least 100 dogs. I wasn't frightened because the cacophony was distinctively non-threatening. I dare say it was the precise opposite. Dogs wagged their tails and pleaded for attention. They all knew what was at stake and it made me feel sick.
Jasper was led out in to the open and the beckoning ceased. It was a quiet that causes hairs on arms and nape of necks to stand on ceremony. Jasper's counterparts knew they had not been chosen.
The car trip home was relatively uneventful. Jasper was initially sketchy about getting in the car, but what moderately intelligent animal wouldn't be. His last car trip had ended him up on DOGGY DEATHROW.
