(Note: The picture is several years old. A new picture will soon be posted.)
"And you, good yeomen,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding--which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot!
Follow your spirit; and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'"
"There be three things which go
well, yea, four are comely in going:
A lion, strongest among beasts, and turneth not away for any;
A greyhound . . . ."
Proverbs 30:30-31
All right, so I'm partial to these noble, elegant, infinitely affectionate companions! I admit it proudly. All my life, I've been a "dog person." Kerry blue terriers, poodles, doberman-beagle mixes, German shepherd mixes, I've enjoyed the friendship of quite a few of man's best friend--and every one of them has certainly been mine. But when I had a chance to see our first adopted greyhounds, to reach out and touch their warm, velvet-smooth coats and feel them respond to just the slightest affection, I was hooked, once and for all.
Who wouldn't be partial to these wonderful pets? You come home from work and there they are, wagging their tails and dancing about (two of ours literally hop when they're happy), welcoming you back and immediately helping you put the travails of the day behind you.
Friendly, good with children, silky to the touch, affectionate to a fault, playful (and just a little mischievous), great walking companions, elegant, gentle, and no doggy smell! I ask you, is there a better lifelong friend to have? I've had many kindsof dogs, but I doubt I'll have anything but greyhounds from now on.
I have three greyhounds, all adopted through Greyhound Pets of America. Like most adopted Greyhounds, these guys were racing dogs before they found a home here. Here's the intelligence briefing:
KERMIT is a red brindle (for those of you who, like me, didn't know what in the world a "brindle" was, that's a dog with usually dark stripes over a usually lighter base coat--in Kermit's case that's dark brown stripes, like a tiger's, over a reddish-golden coat), four years old as of 22 May. Although he isn't the "first" dog in the household (we have a six-year-old mutt and an eleven-year-old cat who grew up with a golden retriever/German shepherd mix and still thinks he's a dog), by his own vote he's certainly "first among equals." We adopted him just after Labor Day, and, my friends, you've never seen a dog worship air conditioning the way this guy does! He spent his first few hours scoping out the best spots for cool air (like on tile, under ceiling fans, and ~Argh!~ on the leather couch), and deciding which spots offered the coolest nap spots at different times of the day. A very orderly fellow, Kermit. Playful, too. Toss anything that looks like it might be a toy (including many of Courtney's stuffed animals), and Kermit is after it. He grabs it, then prances around the place, indoors or out, tossing it in the air and catching it. Only one problem: He's not too great about bringing the toy back! Oh, well, he's a racer, not a retriever! His other great diversion, in the summer, is to sprawl in a child's wading pool. His only "weirdnesses" are lawn sprinklers (he will pull you out into the street to avoid one even if it isn't sprinkling the sidewalk) and narrow spaces (he loves to go on walks, but doesn't like going through the gate).
CISCO is the laid-back member of the group. He's a fawn, five months younger than Kermit. Cisco was one of the greyhounds stranded in Juarez, Mexico when the track down there closed, and I found him when I went to G.P.A. to make a donation to help with their food and transport. He was one of about twelve "Cisco's" down there: Cisco Happy, Cisco Jack, etc. He was Cisco Mark, and everyone at the kennel called him "Mark," but here he is he Cisco. When I got him, he had been neutered only the day before, and there were several females in heat at the kennel. He was very affectionate. Toward everything--including the cats. Who were not impressed! Cisco spent his first couple of weeks barking at everything. At the ceiling fan, if one turned it off. At balloons. At the hallway between the bedrooms. At the stereo. At the cats. And he repeated the performance for another two weeks when he moved to the new house. At the stairs, at the fountain, at the bay windows. That's pretty much tapered off, now, but he barks--quite impressively--when people come to the front door. Of course, the silly grin and the wagging tail somewhat weaken the "great watchdog" image!
And then, there's BUBBA. The Kid. Bubba (it's really his name) is much smaller than the other guys. That's a bit misleading; Kermit and Cisco are BIG for Greyhounds! He's a brown brindle with a deep brown, almost black, face, which make his eyes (a lighter brown than you find in dogs, usually) really stand out. I picked him up in June, 1997. It was another impulse acquisition; I went to G.P.A. to see about foster-homing Greys on holiday weekends and ended up adopting the little guy. As he'd come directly from the farm (injuries when he was a puppy kept him from ever racing) and had only been there long enough to be neutered, everyone at G.P.A. wondered how he'd adapt to house-living. He came in. He drank from the water bowl. He ran upstairs, leaped onto the couch in the TV room, and went to sleep. Any other questions? As of this writing (21 February 1998), he is in a long bandage on his left foreleg after three surgeries to repair a broken leg. Sigh. Don't ask how much it's cost in the last four months.
None of these boys had a long racing career, which is fine with me. That isn't a comment on the issue of dog-racing; I'll reserve that for another time and place. It's fine with me, because since they're still young dogs, we can look forward to many long, happy years with these wonderful guys in my home. Hey, is there anything better in life than lying down to go to sleep at night and hearing your greyhounds, as they, too, lie down near the bed, announce that your home is secure and all is right with the world by their contented sighs?
If you're interested in knowing more about adopting a greyhound, please contact the local chapter of one of the many greyhound adoption organizations that are in this country. If you have any questions about them, please e-mail me and I'll be glad to reply.
"If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and a man."
Mark Twain