Saving the Life of Ricky Bobby Baby Jesus

If you want to save a dog's life in a Howard County, Maryland kill shelter, start by picking a good name.

And then try to find the dog productive employment by placing it with an organization looking for energetic working dogs.

And then hope a nice foster-care person will come along to help make the whole deal work out in terms of timing.

And if it does all works out, then you may get this paragraph from the front page of The Washington Post "style" section:

"The day before Ricky Bobby Baby Jesus was scheduled to die by an injection of pentobarbital, along came the cookie lady. She brought dog biscuits to the Howard County Animal Shelter. When she saw the yellow Labrador -- evicted for feistiness from three homes -- leap to catch a ball, she had an idea. . . "

Yes, that's right: Ricky Bobby Baby Jesus. You want to kill Ricky Bobby? You want to kill Baby Jesus? Not in Howard County, Maryland, you don't!

The short story here is that the dog known as Ricky Bobby Baby Jesus (pictured above, in all his magnificent glory), along with some other dogs that washed out of Guide Dogs for the Blind, have been trained for bomb-sniffing work in Front Royal, Virginia, and are now on their way overseas.

Ricky Bobby, for example, is on his way to Morocco where he will fight on the front lines against al-Qaeda.

"Saluting an ATF instructor in front of a giant American flag, Nabir Chakir told the crowd: 'Long live the collaboration between the United States and Morocco in the common fight against terrorism.'"

You betcha Nabir! And let me hasten to tell our American friends what you and I both know: Morocco was the first country in the world to sign a treaty with the United States. And, for the record, Morocco was coming to the aid of the U.S. whose ships were being plagued by the Barbary Pirates. The signer of the treaty: none other than the dog-loving George Washington.

Some of the failed to-make-the-grade Guide Dogs for the Blind were initially raised and fostered by prisoners, who are only too happy if the dogs that eventually flunk out of the program go on to be employed as bomb-and-gun sniffing dogs in the war against terror.

John Pucci, 62, an inmate serving 25 years to life for his involvement in a 1978 drug-related shooting, threw a party for his "baby girl" when she left to fight al-Qaeda, making her a special meal of "ooganooga meatballs" made of mashed puppy food, olive oil, peanut butter and rice.

"Pucci said, 'I may be a criminal, but I'm an American criminal.' His voice caught. 'A little piece of me goes out to fight for the American way -- to keep the Yankee games going.'"

Excellent on every level. You have to love this country and the dogs.

And, of course, a special hat-tip to the great nation of Morocco which has always remained a friend.

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