ohmidog!

Black dogs can be adopted for free in Wichita on this Black Friday, thanks to a girl scout in Kansas.

Madison Bell, a seventh-grader at Mayberry Middle School, recently launched the Black Dog Club after noticing — while volunteering at the Kansas Humane Society — that black dogs tend to get passed over in shelters, at least more often than their multi-colored and lighter-colored counterparts.

“Black dogs are overlooked … You can’t see their faces very well,” said Madison, 12. “When I heard about it, I was shocked. I wanted to so something to help.”

Today, Madison is helping the Humane Society host the Black Dog Adoption Drive, an event geared toward getting more black shelter animals into loving homes, according to Kansas.com. All adoption fees for black animals are being waived, while fees for other animals are being discounted 25 percent.

She’ll also be encouraging visitors to join the Black Dog Club, which she launched last month as her Girl Scout Silver Award project. It has raised about $1,300 to help provide medical services and more for the shelter’s animals. (You can find more information, donate, and get the T-shirt here.)

Most shelter directors concur that black dogs often have more trouble finding a home — their facial expressions are harder to see, and photographs of them tend to not come out as well.

“They don’t grab your eye as quickly as brighter colored animals,” said Jennifer Campbell, spokeswoman for the Kansas Humane Society.

But as Madison points out, they’re just as special. “Black dogs are amazing,” she told KAKE-TV. “They’ve got personality just like any other dog.”

(Photos: Courtesy of the Kansas Humane Society)

I don’t know which one of your prayers or well wishes did the trick, or if it was the power of them combined, or if it was the puking, or if perhaps it was the nap (I think they can cure about everything), but six hours after he could barely walk, Ace was unexplainedly up and running.

“Stop running,” I told him.

But given I was smiling, tearing up and having difficulty working up the stern tone sometimes required for him to obey, he apparently didn’t feel the need to pay attention. Either that, or he was as happy as I was.

Six hours after he could barely stand up, he was ready to romp.

What befell him yesterday morning is a mystery, and your conjecture is welcome, because I’d like to figure it out.

You’ll recall, maybe, that he had some disc problems a few months back. Those, treated with steroid pills, vanished after the second round of drugs. While that ailment didn’t affect his ability to walk, it was clearly painful and led him to yelp out, whereas yesterday he didn’t seem to be in any pain at all.

After sleeping in yesterday — til almost 11 a.m. — he got up to find he couldn’t get up. It seemed to be just one front leg affected at first, but then I noticed his rear leg on the same side was dragging, splaying out, and clearly not following his brain’s command.

What transpired at the vet was pretty routine, until we got back in the car and he began vomiting, in no small amounts.

The vet, who had recommended he see a dog neurologist, came out to the car, tied an IV bag to my roof rack and administered what’s called a subcutaneous drip to restore his fluids.

During it, I noticed some slight signs of improvement. Ace sat up, and seemed to be putting weight on the bad side. Once back home he seemed even better, though the right front paw still seemed to have a mind of its own, flopping down on the ground in an exxagerated motion.

After the nap, he insisted on going outside, where he proceeded to walk 99 percent normally, run 99 percent normally and pester me to play 100 percent normally.

I calmed him down, insisting that he chill, and told him we would withhold any celebrations until tomorrow — after seeing whether he gets up with the same problems or not.

It was a scary day, and I can’t tell you how many roads my mind went down. Was it going to be something as serious as it appeared, could I afford the tests to have it diagnosed, much less to have it treated? Would it prove fatal? How badly would I fall apart if so, and could I ever be put back together again?

Sitting in the exam room, waiting for the vet, I reminded myself every minute or so that it wasn’t about me. I reminded myself that I’m a cool-headed sort. But inside, I had turned drama queen.

Ace has given me some scares before during our travels, with his herniated disc, when he disappeared through a swimming pool cover, when he jumped over the fence at Niagara Falls. This one was by far the worst, because there was no explanation for it, no precipitating event — just a sudden loss of limb control.

It’s nothing to take lightly, and even if he seems 100 percent today, I know he needs to be checked out by a specialist. Some breathing room to do that would be nice, though.

I am of that percentage of society that places their dog’s health above their own. Lacking health insurance — for me or him — I am also of the ignore it and maybe it will just go away school.

Yesterday was so frightening I made an exception.

While his problem may not truly be gone, I’m glad it’s gone for now. Borrowed time? We’ll take it.

On our way to the car, for the drive to the vet, Ace was barely able to walk, even with me lifting up on his harness. He leaned his weak side into me for support. He’s normally a leaner, but not when he walks. That it is when I first lost it — it being composure.

That simple trusting act, on his part, somehow pushed me over the edge — partly because he did it without thinking twice, partly, truth be told, because of the realization that I lean on him much more than he leans on me.