Years ago, when Chris and I adopted our very first dog, we started a trend...
each of our male dogs has been named for a Civil War General.
A Confederate General, to be more precise.
Now at the time we didn't realize we were doing such a thing;
it just sorta turned out that way.
And as the years passed
and a few more canines found their way to our doorstep,
that trend continued.
(yes, my husband-- the history buff-- initiated this pattern,
and the rest is, well... history :)
First there was Jackson.
Then there came Beauregard.
Next in line was Mosby.
And now, our most recent installment...
I know, he's quite the sight right now, but I've gotta tell you, he's one of the sweetest little boys in town! Our family adopted him on New Year's Eve from a wonderful rescue league here in our area, and his tail hasn't stopped wagging since. To say that we are absolutely smitten with him would be an understatement... he's cruised right in to our hearts and taken up residence with all the other pups we hold so dear.
Now, for a brief explanantion: when Annie died last spring, Mosby was forced to fly solo around this joint. And while we all adore him beyond measure, we soon began to miss the pitter patter of additional paws. So eventually, we decided to start searching for another playmate. Now we didn't intentionally seek the most pathetic creature in town; again... it just sorta happened that way, for once we stumbled upon Ferg, we knew he was the one. You see, Chris and I have a passion for pups. All pups, but especially the downcast and the outcast, the unlovely and the unloved... and this little guy fit that bill perfectly. He's probably one year old (two at best), and at the risk of overstating the very, very obvious, he's been sorely mistreated and terribly neglected. I'm not sure how well it comes across in the photo, but I'd estimate that half the fur on his little body is gone...gone!... due to mange and other untreated skin ailments (see all that pink skin??), and in addition to the raw misery such conditions create, he's also battling an abcessed eye, a double ear infection, multiple secondary infections due to lack of timely medical care, and an emaciated frame. Thankfully, our substantial arsenal of meds is already making a difference, and the good, good eats we're pumping in daily are starting to pack on a few pounds. It's also quite amazing-- what a little bit (or a lot-a-bit!) of attention and love and good old-fashioned TLC will do~
So, Ferg's the new man on the block... and Mosby thinks he's quite swell. The boys are quite tickled with him, too, and they're glad we decided as a family to pick him. It's been very rewarding to watch them take a very active role in his care, and it's been really neat to see baby steps of physical/healthy progess each and every day. And his tail... his long tan tail with a white-tipped end continues to wag and wag and wag at an ever-increasing rate! Now that's a treat!
It still amazes me, though-- with each medicine I serve, with each meal I prepare-- with each touch across his sickly form-- that someone... some unfit misfit of a person... could actually allow one of God's creatures to end up like this. It's reprehensible & utterly inexcusable, but I don't think anyone would argue that point with me right now :)
So... when all is said and done, this little guy is going to be quite the gem! With a new coat and a healthy frame, Ferguson will surely be one of the most handsome-- and most loved-- little guys on the block!
And hopefully, in the months and years to come, I'll be able to share more stories like this... more success stories, I pray, should the LORD provide us with even more opportunites to open our doors wide to the unwanted and the unloved... to the abandoned and the forsaken... to those who have seen the other side of the tracks... that they might finish out their days, if only for a very brief time, with us... that they might know what it feels like to be loved.
Cause there's just nothing greater than that.