And I Thought Greyhounds Were Prissy!

For years I've been listening to Mr. Taleteller sigh over the thought of having "a real dog" even though I know he's crazy about the Greyhounds.  I figured that entailed a dog who could go to obedience class with him, and possibly get down and dirty sometimes in outdoor activities.  In my mind, he was talking about a dog who could go out and do things without worrying so much about some of the quirks that come with sharing your life with Greyhounds.

I believe I've mentioned before that Greyhounds are made of spun sugar.  They will melt in the rain, hence the need for accessories like raincoats.  I was assured by Mr. Taleteller that Morgan, being a real dog, would have no need for such frippery and that was the reason I didn't find any websites that catered to such a need.  I shrugged my shoulders and accepted that as a fact of life.  She doesn't have the heaviest Shepherd coat that I've ever seen, but she is certainly covered a lot more than the girls are.

So, the other afternoon as turn out approached, I could see that rain was almost upon us.  I decided to try and hurry, taking Morgan, Bunny and Blueberry all out to the pen, noting as we went out that it was starting to sprinkle a few drops of rain.  I hurried back inside and got Lilac, taking her out under our big maple tree to do her business, since I didn't want to risk putting her in the pen with the three younger dogs.  It didn't take her long to decide to take care of business, but by the time she was done, it was pelting down rain.  I could see Bunny and Blueberry were already drenched.  Lilac was quickly escorted to the back door and let inside.  I propped the back door open and turned to go get the girls out of the pen. 

I knew that Blueberry was reliable, so I quickly snapped the leash on Morgan, grabbed Bunny's collar and let Blueberry make a run for the safety of the back door.  It's a short distance, across the front of our two car garage, and I know Blueberry well enough to know that she'd go right in, and she did.  It was at this point that I had a flashback to words my husband had spoken after giving the girls a bath the weekend before.  "Morgan really doesn't like getting wet" is an understatement of unparelleled proportions. 

As Blueberry shot into the back door, I found myself involved in my own German Shepherd-Greyhound rodeo.  I hope you understand, due to the rain and the spontenaeity of the event, there are no photographs or videos, nor do I care to reenact them, although I can look back and laugh about it.  Morgan went on full out rain avoidance mode, running a circle around Bunny and me as she tried to follow Blueberry into the safety of the back door.  The next thing I heard was the Greyhound scream of death as the leash went around behind Bunny and she was tied up.  I pulled on Morgan, fighting for leverage and space for Bunny to get untangled, about a half a car length from the door and realized I'd have to let her go.  She took off through the back door as Morgan bucked and twisted in her panic to get out of the rain.  I held her back at the foot of the stairs to let Bunny come inside before I unhooked her leash and let her run in the house.

I followed them in and grabbed an old dog towel.  I put it over Bunny and she curled up in it on the floor and let me dry her off, turning the doe eyes on me in appreciation for taking care of her.  I saw some small leash burns on the insides of her back legs and felt badly because I hadn't realized how hard Morgan had pulled on her, but they were minor and she was fine.  After a nice rubdown, she went to the couch and curled up in princess mode.  Blueberry was toweled off next.  Then I found Morgan in the kitchen and she was barely damp, but I dried her off anyway, and she gave me a look of the utmost appreciation and gratitude.

I guess Mr. Taleteller got a prissy dog after all!

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