The Wolfhound

There was once an Irish King who had lost his wife in childbirth. He had loved her and mourned her, but he had their son so the pain of loss was reduced a little.

The King had a warhound. An Irish Wolfhound. Lethal in war, but a sweetheart in the home.

One day the King went off hunting and left his baby son in the care of the wolfhound.

Many hours later he returned to find the room covered in blood.

In terror for his son he searched the room and found the wolfhound with its jaws covered I blood.

Assuming it had gone mad and killed his son he drew his sword and killed the beast.

On further investigation he discovered his son, safe, under his upturned crib and beyond his own bed, the carcase of a wolf with its throat torn out.

The King, distraught at having slain the loyal and trusting hound, had a statue raised in bronze which he placed over the grave of the hound. The inscription read “I am sorry I misjudged you, my faithful servant”

The moral of the story? Do not judge until ALL the evidence is in.

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Responses

  1. Good one Way…..I have heard this before….and it’s good to be reminded …yes…so often we can look at someone or hear something….and judge it completely wrongly…
    wise words
    xxxxxxx M

  2. wow what a brill story albeit a sad one…I for one never ever judge anyone on anyones hear say…I see for myself first, very good post hun 🙂 🙂

  3. One of the four agreements in Don Miguel Ruiz’s book, The Four Agreements, is: Do Not Make Assumptions. We can sometimes not even fathom how wrong we can be, no? Making an hypothesis is one thing, but one mustn’t assume (or, as the old saying goes, you make an “ass” out of U and Me).
    Poor doggy in the story, I felt bad for him, too, Maize.