Rescuing Witherwings

I got my dog at the animal shelter in October of 2012. It was a Monday and I went straight from work, ready to be a dog owner once again.

Everything went fine with his adoption, with just one tiny glitch, if you will; I signed the paperwork, paid my fee, and then found out that I had to take him with me right then. In the past I’d adopted my dogs in a different state, where there was a three day wait to get the dog while it was either spayed or neutered. I’d naively thought it would be the same in my new state.

So when they brought me my brand-new dog, I had no supplies for him. Without knowing how he would behave in the car I had to load him up and take him to the pet store for supplies, not knowing how he would handle that either! I was scared, and he sat in the shopping cart shaking like a leaf, while people oohed and ahhed over him (he was a cutie), and my heart pounded. Since I didn’t know anything about him, I got everything I could think of—a collar and a leash, bowls, toys, food, and even a bed and a blanket. (The credit card company loved me that month!)

We made it through the shopping spree and went home ready to begin our lives together.

Before I even got him that night, I knew what I wanted to name my new pet. The name I’d chosen was Witherwings, taken from the Harry Potter stories, which was really appropriate for the situation I was in.

In Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Buckbeak the hippogriff is sentenced to death for (supposedly) hurting Draco Malfoy. Harry and his friends rescue him from the executioner. Later in the story, Sirius Black is imprisoned and due to be returned to Azkaban where he will mostly likely die. Buckbeak rescues Sirius.

After Sirius dies, Harry inherits everything, which includes Buckbeak, who is renamed Witherwings so that he can go back to Hogwarts safely.

At the time that I rescued Witherwings, I had lost five people in the previous four months; one of those was my father. I knew I was getting depressed, and needed and wanted a reason to get out of bed in the morning, and make me smile. A dog was the perfect solution.

So I rescued Witherwings, and then he rescued me.

When I first saw him in his kennel, he was wagging his tail and being cute, and I couldn’t resist a meet and greet. He was a bundle of energy and motion, and shedded white hair all over me. Even though I had on black pants that day, I didn’t mind a bit because I was already hopelessly in love with him.

His kennel card said he was five-and-a-half months old; as for breed it simply said “terrier mix”; his paws were relatively small. I’d had dogs before, so I knew what to expect, or thought I did. Turns out the terrier was Jack Russell Terrier, which I found out when I took him to the vet for his checkup.

Even so, I had no idea what that meant, and when I looked it up, I got a little nervous. Jack Russells are known to be high-energy, good diggers, and good jumpers. Fortunately for both of us, the dog park helped him get rid of a lot of energy. We spent three hours there one day, then he slept the rest of that day, and woke up ready to go to the park the next.

But he was happy, and that made me happy.

His biggest quirk as a puppy was that he didn’t want to walk on the tile floor. He’d stay on the carpet until he absolutely couldn’t any more. He’d run kitty-korner or wind his way around things to go from carpeted spot to carpeted spot to be on the tile as little as possible.

Once Witherwings got used to me, he jumped on the bed all the time, and I worked really hard to teach him the bed was not for him. Then I realized I really wanted him on the bed with me, and it took way more time and effort to get him back on it than it did to keep him off.

In the beginning he was a really picky eater; now he’ll eat almost anything.

He hates to get wet—in any way. His bladder can’t be that big, but Witherwings will hold it and hold it and hold it rather than go out into the backyard to do his business if it’s even sprinkling.

He has a beard and sometimes things get stuck in it, like leaves or little sticks. It’s adorable and silly at the same time.

He inspires and motivates me, and he grounds me.

Witherwings has changed a lot since the day I got him, but the thing that hasn’t changed is the most important and wonderful thing about him. He’s the sweetest, most loving, gentle dog in the world (isn’t that what all parents say?).

When he crawls into my lap to cuddle, my heart just melts. When he gets hyper and cries with joy at the sight of the leash, my heart melts. Sometimes when I hear him crunching his kibble, my heart melts (I hear him crunching right now).

He has made my life so much better than it ever could have been without him in it. Because of him, I know what it feels like to be loved unconditionally. I also know what it feels like to love unconditionally. Because of him, I have two wonderful friends I met at the dog park, and he has his best friends Freddy, Chloe, and Mister. Because of him, no matter how bad things seem to be, I know they really aren’t. Because of him, my COVID lockdown experience was bearable.

Witherwings is almost nine now; his birthday is May 13, his rescue day is October 29, and we celebrate both every year.

Every day he makes it easy to remember just how grateful I am to have him in my life. He’s lived up to his name.

Witherwings is proof that money CAN buy happiness. And he is a poster boy for the phrase “Adopt, Don’t Shop.”