And now the conclusion of the Great Underwear Caper.
Faithful Reader will recall that I recently found six helpless, yelping puppies in the middle of the night after I went onto our garage roof and nearby water-tank hill in my underwear
After this rescue, and under the threat of our cat, these six were soon-after directed to good homes and thus kept far from both the cat and university security who, in Jon’s mind, to keep the campus free of wild dogs, might cut their heads off to hang on the wall.
There, however, was a Puppy 7, a sort of prodigal pup. He chose to remain in the bush somewhere behind my house, unreachable, apparently with no care and, for sure, with a very uncertain future. I worried. We all worried.
But in an amazing story of instinct and survival, Puppy 7 somehow made his way through the dense Ugandan jungle to another expatriate home on the other side of campus.
He somehow covered a distance that for a puppy would be like crossing from one side of Toronto to the other in rush hour.
Yes, he went over dangerous terrain and past horrid snakes and crazy monkeys and other things that are too dangerous to think about or explain to someone unfamiliar with the Ugandan jungle.
But Puppy 7 somehow made it to a certain home way out there, friends of ours actually, who were planning on getting one the other six pups anyway. Now they have Puppy 7.
Yes, Puppy 7 is now happy in their friendly care, and their children feel especially good that their puppy actually went to the trouble to find them, to seek them out on his own power, rather than just get a free ride with it all.
So when you think your Prodigal Child won’t find their way out of their own jungle, out of the danger, out of the thicket of foolish decisions and tattoos and lip piercings in the nose and nose piercing in the eyebrows and motorcycle gangs and Katy Perry music and well, think of Puppy 7, the Prodigal Pup who, through it all, found his way to something new.