Greyhounds Make Greyt Pets
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Timber is a feisty girl with tons of personality. She retired when she was only 22 months old. She's incredibly fast, but she likes to turn around and play with whoever's following her. :) She was very fearful when she first came home, but she's quickly learning to trust. She is very excited about each new day and believes we'd all be happier if we felt the same way. Timber was the source of a tragic story with a happy ending. When you hear that greyhounds must always be on a leash or in a totally fenced in area, believe it.
Bear is a laid back silver brindle with a hidden crazy streak that sneaks out on occasion. For those of you that are unfamiliar with greyhounds, they have a unique way of hugging: they lean on you. [Cocoa hugs other greyhounds.] Bear is a leaner extraordinaire. And his fur feels like velvet (fuzzy wuzzy). When he first came home his nose was 100% black. Bear is the only name that fits this affectionate boy. Bear has Timber's Scary Story to thank for living with me. I chipped . . . In September 2006, Bear was diagnosed with t-cell lymphoma, also known as mycosis fungoides and epitheliotropic lymphoma. Lots of names for the same sad disease... More information about the disease and our experience is here.
This red fawn girl is as sweet as they come. Oatmeal had been adopted by a family three years before me who gave her up because their priorities changed. She was in poor health, but she's feeling great now that she's had ten teeth removed and has lots of toys and attention. Oatmeal won, placed, or showed in half of her 45 career races, yet she retired at just 20 months. She won her third- and fourth-to-last races, so she must have had a bad accident (possibly where she lost her tail) that forced her retirement. Although she had no tail when she came off the track, she wags her little stub whenever I take out her leash. On February 4, 2003, Oatmeal was diagnosed with osteosarcoma (bone cancer). Although the disease is terminal, there are aggressive steps that can be taken to significantly increase the odds of surviving more than a few weeks. Read more about Oatmeal's treatment and see photos.
I manage an animal hospital. On Wednesday, May 11, 2004, one of our receptionists came to my office to say there was a woman in the lobby that wanted to give away her greyhound. After a friendly conversation and a phone call to her adoption group (another GAS dog), I thought he was all set to be returned. A couple days later, I called Marilyn to be sure he'd made it back. He had not. I called the owner, and she confessed that she just couldn't bear to have him return to a kennel. She had heard that sometimes dogs spend a year or two there, and she thought he'd be better off put down. I said I had been thinking a lot about him and offered to foster him with the intention to adopt if he got along with my other dogs and cats. She agreed to drop him off at the hospital on Friday, May 14. Marilyn had some ideas on homes for him, and I thought I'd return him to her capable hands that afternoon. But Marilyn didn't answer the phone. After several calls, I decided it couldn't hurt to bring him home for the weekend. Actually, it didn't hurt at all. This perfect boy was quite good for my heart. :) On February 28, 2008, Mickey lost his battle with spindle-cell sarcoma. A gentler soul never lived.
Once again a Greyhound Adoption Service dog has found its way to my house via an unconventional route. My friend Michael found this 7-year-old boy on Craig's List and delivered him to Greyhound Friends, and he landed here two days later. Marilyn from GAS tried to get him back in September, but the volunteer that was going to pick him up said the owners' email changed and she lost contact. Dash is an 87-pound snuggler. He had eight teeth removed immediately, and now that his breath isn't peeling the wallpaper, he's a perfect boy. Although he's huge, his ribs and spine are visible and he's just an overall big-boned, muscular guy. Welcome home my big, new, happy friend...
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Timber
was my first greyt love. She came home on November 6, 1998. She was adopted
from 
Bear
came home January 23, 1999. 
Oatmeal came home on
Thanksgiving eve 1999. She was initially a foster, but I knew when I
started letting adoption inquiries go straight to voicemail that I was in
trouble. Oatmeal settled right in on the couch as if she owned the place,
and it turns out she was right.
Somebody slipped me a Mickey
. . .
Dash
