Shotgun

Shotgun

Here I am with my new dad! Yes, you read that right. I was adopted yesterday, after my birthday party. For everyone that thought that I would never find a family, here I am to prove you wrong. From the moment I was put on social media, someone wanted me. Was it my good looks, my funny personality or was it that someone recognized that even though life had not been so kind to me, I still had value and I still had worth? It’s true ~ getting around can be rough. It takes me a while to get up and get going, but I still have a lot of living to do. Yesterday, more than 100 people came to my birthday party and it took another wagon to haul all my presents to the car. As you can see from my pictures, I rode shotgun home with my new dad. I rode to rescue shotgun and I rode home shotgun. How cool is that? Yesterday, I began my new life with Steve, and I am so happy that rescue decided to save me.

Someone should have told me that I was leaving in the transport van. I was leaving Brownsville and I would be saved. That my life mattered. That someone did want me. Because from where I was sitting and seeing things, my days where numbered. In a town where dogs roam freely, where starving dogs are everywhere, and resources are few and far between, that’s the town I called home. My owner took me to the shelter and I knew I was all but gone. With just an envelope that held my registration, that told my birthday, I had nothing else. Well, I did have an ear infection, eye infection, skin infection and tail infection! 

When the transport van pulled up and the choosing began we all held our breath. The skinny shepherd and all her new born puppies were loaded up. The fuzzy lady that was dancing in a circle was chosen. A entire cage of puppies born in the shelter was being picked up. I lost count of everyone that was getting to leave on transport. And then like magic I was chosen. I had a hard time getting up. My bones are old bones. It took me a while to make it to the van, but I made it. I made it to the front seat! I was going to be the Copilot. Me, I was riding in the front. I must have had a shocked look on my face because the lady driving said “Shotgun you were chosen a week ago by a rescue to take this freedom ride. You were never going to get left behind. No matter how old you are, or what your medical needs are, there are rescue people who care.”

My Birthday is Feb. 13, 2011 and I will be 9.  I was bought at a pet store in Matamoros Mexico. And once upon a time when I was young, and really cute, I was someone’s everything. And then I became someone’s “You’re too old to care about thing.”  And today I am someone’s “I will love your forever thing.” I am rescued.

2/6/20 Update: Shotgun is enjoying life at the clinic! And that is an understatement. Yesterday, he was temporarily sprung from the vet clinic so he could go on a food run. He rode shotgun to Chicken Express! He and Pony Boy got to share their very own box. He was so sad when it was all gone. Pony told him the humans go there almost every day and bring some back just for him. Here’s hoping the future holds more yellow boxes for Shotgun!

Shotgun’s blood work came back surprisingly good for his age. His thyroid is a little off, but most everything else is fine. He is stiff in his legs, but his hips are in good shape. He has a small tumor in one ear and his ears are pretty nasty and slightly calcified with age. The best news? NO heartworms!

In a few days, he will ready to escape for good and head to his foster home. We’re sure he expects a yellow box to be waiting for him!

2/9/20 Update:  Shotgun was left at a shelter by his family. We’re not sure who could do that or why, especially to a dog who’s nearly 9 years old. Who could NOT want him? Well, we certainly wanted him. And the minute he arrived, we knew he was a gift.

He came to us infected from head to tail. His ears, eyes, skin and tail all needed work, but as we all know, Dr. Larsen and her crew were up to the task. The first thing was a bath, then the medications began. Everything started to clear up.

Shotgun now roams the vet clinic. You will find him everywhere… at the front desk, in the treatment room, greeting people at the door, laying in the dog or cat rooms. He roams and lays and we pet and talk to him as we come and go. He is the most docile Bulldog you’ll ever meet. Slow as molasses and doesn’t care.

The only time he ruffles is at food time. Now, this boy loves his food! He does not enjoy other fur babies sticking their noses in his bowl. A little growl sends everyone on their way.

I took his pictures this week. I normally tell you how cute the dogs are or how shy they are, but not this time. I looked at him through my lens and saw a tired, sad, hurt boy. A boy who once lived with people he thought loved him. He had been a puppy who chased balls, barked, ran and played. Now, he finds himself with us, with no known family, nothing familiar… almost “disposable.”

We finished up and for about an hour, he laid on a blanket and watched the other dogs get their pictures taken. As he lumbered out to go back up to the front desk, I prayed that he realizes how much we love him and how hard we will all work to find him a family.

I don’t understand some people. My dogs get more valuable to me as the age because they’ve walked the road with me. They’ve been through everything with me. I understand Shotgun’s an older dog, but all he wants is a family to finish his life journey with and he certainly deserves one!