Treat Tales -- Meeting The Rabbit

It's been a while since I wrote a Treat Tale, but a friend had asked me to back in October on our trip, and others mentioned it when they read about Treat on Saturday, so I thought it was time to get back into the swing of telling those stories.  We'd like to dedicate this story to our friend Max, who recently crossed to the Rainbow Bridge after a brief battle with Osteosarcoma.  He was one handsome Greyhound and he will be missed.  We decided to write this particular story after several people asked about people saw the picture on Saturday of Treat with the rabbit. 

The rabbit's name was Diamond.  She was the classroom rabbit in my class at school.  Normally, she would stay at school during the week and then go home with my teaching partner on the weekends.  However, there came a long five day weekend when we were off school because of a big conference that many of the teachers attended.  My teaching partner was going to the conference, so we planned for Diamond to come home with me over the long weekend.

I had big dreams.  There's a calendar that comes out every year called the Celebrating Greyhounds Calendar.  It's put out by the same organization that puts out the Celebrating Greyhounds magazine.  Every year people from all over send in their best pictures of their Greyhounds in hopes of getting a picture in the calendar.  I just knew that if I could get a picture of Treat with the rabbit that it would be calendar gold.  I mean, really, who could resist a Greyhound curled up with a fuzzy bunny?  It was practically a guarantee in my mind.

The day arrived when it was time to bring Diamond home.  She rode in a cat carrier and spent most of her time in a small cage.  I carried the cage inside first and Treat and Hawk along with our two cats were fascinated by it.  After I got the cage set up in the corner of the living room, I set up her hay, pellets and water, then I went outside to fetch the rabbit.  I was greeted at the back door by Treat and Hawk whose noses had gone into complete overdrive.  Hawk's eyes telescoped out like a cartoon character, his nose twitched, his ears flattened to the back of his head and he turned and beat feet into the living room as far as he could get from the little beast.  Treat turned from her sniff fest to see him leaving and followed him to curl up primly on the couch.  They both looked at me with the same look of horror that seemed to say "I can't believe you brought a wild animal into our house!  What were you thinking?"  The cats surrounded the cage and were drooling as they seemed to be preparing for the buffet.

I was not deterred from my goal, however.  After things got settled, I closed the cats in the bedroom and lifted Diamond out of her cage, carefully carrying her to the couch to sit her down beside Treat.  Treat launched off the couch as if her tail was on fire.  She had no intention of posing with a wild animal.  There was probably some fine print in her adoption contract that prohibited getting wild animals within a certain vicinty of her royal self, but I must have missed it amongst all the other requirements of life with a Greyhound princess.

A few days later, I decided to try again.  After a long walk, I got Treat settled on the couch and Mr. Taleteller was standing nearby with the camera ready.  We cajoled and encouraged her, and finally got the picture of Treat sitting on the couch with the rabbit moments before she took off to hide in the bedroom.  I have to admit, I've always loved that picture.

We did submit it to the calendar, but it was never chosen.  As a matter of fact, the next year a picture I'd taken of Hawk was selected, one that had nothing to do with the princess.  I'm sure she's sitting on a cloud somewhere with that rabbit still, laughing about me and my folly.  I guess some things seem a lot better in your mind than they do in application.  I still look back on that picture and smile as I remember all that went into capturing it.

I'd also like to add that this is our five hundredth post.  It's been a lot of fun keeping the blog going so far.  To celebrate, we're asking you to join us on our new blog.  We are still working out a few kinks, but by the beginning of the month, we hope to be exclusively posting on our new blog site.  It's a little scary to make the move, but we've been encouraged by some good friends to do it, and we feel like it's a good thing for us.  We're mostly hoping that you all will still follow us and will join us on the new site.  So, without further ado, we present Tales and Tails.  If you'd like to bookmark it, it's http://talesandtails.com/.

You Never Forget Your First Love

I told myself that I was going to let today pass on the blog without mentioning this, but I find that I just can't do it.  Today was a special day in history.  I didn't know it at the time, but it's a date that I'll always remember now.  On February 5, 1997 a litter of Greyhound puppies was born.  They were average racers, not the worst, but not outstanding and most of them were done racing before they turned four years old. 

One of those dogs went by the racing name of Adios Treat.  She retired at three and a half years old.  It is astonishing to me that she waited in the adoption kennel as long as she did.  Not only was she adorable, she was friendly and cat safe.  When Mr. Taleteller and I went to the adoption kennel, she was one of only four cat safe dogs and the only of those who was a female.

We really had no choice in the matter.  Treat had decided from our first meeting that we were hers.  I can still remember how she looked back at us longingly when she was led back to her crate.  She was the only one of the dogs we met who gave us a backwards glance.  When we went back up to choose our dog after being approved, she made sure she was beside one of the two of us the entire time we sat there hemming and hawing and deluding ourselves that we had any choice in the matter.  When one of the other dogs, who were all considerably larger than she was, got too close to us, she wormed her way between that dog and the person who'd been getting attention.  An hour and a half later, we finally came to our senses and decided on Treat.  We picked out her first collar and coat and headed back home with her in my mom and stepdad's SUV that we'd borrowed to get up there in.  It had snowed like gangbusters the day before and we'd been worried we wouldn't make it in our car. 

I could tell a thousand funny stories about Treat.  She lived an extraordinary life.  One of the kennel volunteers used to joke to me that she always told her "You're no Treat" when she was at the kennel.  I used to grit my teeth when she'd tell that story.  I still don't think it's funny.  In my opinion, she could not have been more perfectly named.  She absolutely was a Treat every day that we shared with her.  She was our first Greyhound and I will never forget her.

As I sat thinking about her this week, I realized that she has left an impressive legacy.  After Treat's arrival, four more Greyhounds found their way into our home.  We went to a lot of Meet and Greets with her and Treat was an amazing ambassadog.  I know that there were several adoptions because people wanted to take her home and couldn't, so they went to the adoption kennel themselves to find a companion.  Without Treat, there wouldn't be a little blue fawn princess named Bunny curled up beside me on the couch as I write this.  Already we've heard from two people on Facebook who have adopted Greyhounds after reading about Bunny on our blog. 

So, while Treat is no longer with us, it seems that she lives on.  If I'd realized the heartache that we went through when we lost her would one day lead to this I don't think that it would have made it hurt less, but I do think that it would have made it more bearable.  I'm still so happy that we were lucky enough to spend our lives with her.  You never know where a small decision will lead you, but sometimes it turns out to be much larger than you expected.  Our lives have been enriched more than I can say by the decision we made to bring Treat home with us. 

We're participating in this Saturday's Pet Blog Hop, hosting by Life With Dogs, Two Little Cavaliers and Confessions of the Plume.  If you'd like to participate, please follow the rules and follow your three hosts, add your blog to the Linky and copy and paste the html code into your html editor.  Thanks again to our hosts for putting on the hop!

Treat Tales -- The Grand Entrance

I was thinking back to that first day that we brought Treat home.  In the weeks leading up to us adopting a Greyhound, we'd read and studied all about the breed.  Our plan was to get our dog, bring it home and let it get used to living in our house with us before we had anyone over to meet it or took it anywhere.  Part of the reason for that was that my husband has a large family, and his youngest brother and sister were preschoolers while his niece was just a toddler.  We wanted a bit of an idea to know how our dog would react before we placed it in that situation.

However, our well-laid plans were tossed out the window the day before we were supposed to go and pick out our new Greyhound.  There was a wicked winter storm the day before, and that day happened to be Mr. Taleteller's younger brother's birthday.  The party was postponed to the next day.  We debated about what to do after we heard the news, and decided that we'd just stop in for a few minutes and give him his present, eat a bit of cake and then take our new dog home.

Well, if you read our last post, you know that Treat finally got it through our skulls that she had chosen us and we were taking her home.  After a quick stop at McDonald's, we were on our way back home to stop at the party.  Our new dog was dressed in her new collar and and coat.  The selection of coats was limited, so she had a snazzy number that was black on one side and yellow with green frogs on the other.  It was cute enough, and more importantly, it kept her warm. 

For those of you who are not familiar with Greyhound adoption, most adoption groups send you home with a plastic muzzle like the ones they wear for turn out at the track.  It's helpful in keeping them from chewing things they shouldn't, for introducing them to your cats and in the event that your dog would get an injury that you don't want them to lick.  Many times, adoption groups get used ones donated from the track, where they often write the dog's name across the bridge of the muzzle so they know which dog it is and know who gets which muzzle.

Being new Greyhound owners, we didn't quite know what to expect.  Mr. Taleteller's parents had young children, a cat, a black lab and a cake waiting at their house.  So, we decided to be safe rather than sorry.  We put her muzzle on and headed to the front door.  Treat walked into the party to meet all of Mr. Taleteller's family and the first impression she made was "KILLER" written across her nose.

It turned out that it was completely unnecessary.  I took off my coat and put it in the pile of coats by the door on the floor as we sat there and the family got to know our dog.  They were impressed by her sleek brindle fur after we took the coat off and she was extremely gentle and patient with the kids.  She soaked up the attention for a while, and then when she got tired, she went over and laid down on my coat.  When we got up to get ready to leave, she was right there beside me.

The funny thing is, she always made a grand entrance wherever she went.  I'm not sure that we ever topped that first one, though.  I really wish I'd had a video camera back then!

Treat Tales -- The Beginning

While I was on vacation, I travelled with a friend I've known online for a long time.  I knew her long before Bunny was in my life and while Treat was still here with us.  One day we were talking about the blog and I mentioned that I wasn't sure how I felt about not having the blog going while Treat was with us.  I don't know if I could have continued the blog after she passed away, but there were many, many funny stories that involved Miss Treat.  My friend mentioned how great she thought they were, so I thought about it some and decided that from time to time, I'd write some of the funny stories about Treat here on the blog.  Today, I'll tell the very first story that I know about Treat.

When Mr. Taleteller and I first got married, we lived in an apartment for a few years, since we were both right out of college and trying to get our start in life.  Those three years were the first time that either of us had lived without a dog.  We had two cats, a cockatiel and two fish tanks, but we couldn't have a dog there.  My husband got a new job in the small, rural county where I'd grown up and his job required us to live in the county.  After almost a year of searching, we finally found a cute little house that was perfect for us.  I knew, without even talking it over with Mr. Taleteller, that we'd have a dog soon.

Mr. Taleteller had always wanted a German Shepherd, but I didn't want a dog that would be like a bull in a china closet in our house, and I knew that any dog we got was going to be in the house with us.  I grew up with Border Collies and an Australian Shepherd at my dad's house and Shetland Sheepdogs at my mom's.  I didn't feel that it would be fair or safe to a Border Collie or an Australian Shepherd to have to live in the house, Mr. Taleteller did not like the constant barking the comes with Shelties.  One day in the beginning of December, we were in Petsmart and saw a Greyhound there promoting a local adoption group's fundraiser of pictures with Santa.  We were smitten!  It was the perfect compromise for us.

We talked about it all afternoon.  There was a book that we were supposed to read, Adopting the Racing Greyhound by Cynthia Branigan, before adopting and we stopped to pick it up at the local bookstore.  At that time, we didn't have a computer at home, so we stopped by his office on our way home and looked up the adoption group online.  We filled out our adoption application online while we were there.  After pouring over the pictures of the adorable hounds in their kennel for almost an hour, we headed home.  We figured it would be weeks before we got a response since everybody must be waiting in line to adopt one of these magnificent dogs.

Imagine our surprise when we got a phone call the next evening.  We spoke to the adoption coordinator for quite a while and after it was over, she said to call the kennel and tell them we needed an appointment to come up and meet the Greyhounds.  That was a long week as we waited. 

We arrived at the kennel at dinner time, so we waited patiently while the volunteers finished getting them their food in the meeting room.  Soon, they brought in a large Greyhound who almost changed our minds about adopting one.  He nearly leapt through the window behind our heads and bounced off the walls like a ping pong ball.  Next was a dog who only wanted to go back and eat his dinner and had very little interest in us.  A shy fawn boy was next, and he did stand and lean against us for quite a while.  Finally, they brought in a little brindle female, the only female we'd met.  She leaned against us and took turns giving both of us a chance to pet her.  When they led her back to her kennel, she turned and gazed back at us.

The reading we'd done had given us the impression that male Greyhounds were better with young children, and since there were a lot of those in Mr. Taleteller's family, we thought that was what we wanted.  When we spoke to the adoption president on the phone again, she said she didn't recommend the fawn male we thought we wanted because he was so shy and we'd have to be leash walking the dog all winter.  She was afraid he'd slip his collar and get loose.  We were invited to come back up right after Christmas and decide which dog we wanted to bring home. 

There had been a wicked snowstorm the day before we were supposed to go up to meet our new dog.  We borrowed an SUV from my mom and stepdad to make sure we could get up there and set up a crate in the back to bring the dog home in.  I can't begin to express how excited we were and we still hadn't decided which dog we wanted to bring home.

We talked to the group president and a couple of volunteers and they kindly and patiently brought in the dogs that we were thinking about adopting for us to meet.  Soon, three of the dogs we'd met before and one foster dog were all loose in the storefront with us, milling around.  Three of the dogs were busy going around between the volunteers, but would come over to us when we called them.  That little female was on a mission, though.  She stood beside me, letting me pet her until she saw one of the boys go over to Mr. Taleteller.  She'd go and worm her way in between him and the other dog, then settle in contentedly for him to pet her.  Then she'd turn around and see me petting another dog and she'd have to come over and worm her way between me and that dog.  This went on for a good half hour or so.  Finally, we narrowed it down to her and one other male.  We took them out for a walk to see how they did on leash.  At last, we made our decision, the little female named Treat was our choice.

We chose a new winter coat for her, since it was so cold and snowy, as well as a collar and lead to bring her home with.  I finished filling out paperwork while Mr. Taleteller went out to take down the crate after we were told it wouldn't be necessary to bring her home in.  I looked up from writing the check and saw Treat standing in her new coat at the door, her nose pressed to the glass as she watched for Mr. Taleteller to come back for her.  So much for having one animal in the house who liked me the best!

Looking back, we definitely made the right choice, and one that certainly changed the course of our lives.  Treat was a perfect first Greyhound and she took us to places we never dreamed we'd go.  She also won our hearts and many others' over to the breed.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Well, it's been raining here a lot lately.  That makes it pretty hard to get out and do a lot with the girls.  Most of our forays outside have been quick dashes to the turn out pen.  Sadly, that's not terribly exciting to write about.  It did remind me of another rainy season and an experience we had with our first greyhound, Treat.

To say that Treat was a diva would be an understatement akin to saying that Mount Everest is a hill.  She brought being a diva to an artform heretofore unrivaled in dogdom.  I could give a long list of all the ways that she was spoiled, but I'll spare you that.  There were a lot of things that Treat loved -- Strawberry Cheesequake Blizzards, going anywhere in the car, running on the beach, taking long walks and being treated like a princess were all on her list.

However, there was one thing that she definitely did NOT like and that was rain.  She would get in wading pools, lakes, oceans and any other body but she did not like taking baths or getting rained on.  She hated it so much that I bought her a raincoat to try to help her to hate it less, but it didn't make things much better for her.

One October we had an unusual amount of rain.  It was the sort of deluge that made people consider building arks.  The rain just didn't let up.  Treat had one way of dealing with the rain.  She went out into the turn out pen, scrunched her eyes closed and stood like a statue.  She refused to go to the bathroom when it was raining.  Normally, it wouldn't be a problem if she skipped a turn out.  She might just ask to go out a little earlier the next time. 

The rain started on Tuesday and she refused to go.  I could actually see the wheels turning in that little needlenose head of hers.  The people have a place to go in the house.  The cats have a place to go in the house.  Why should I the superior life-force, be expected to go outside in the rain?  I will not stand for this outrage!  I am a princesse!

The week went on, and Treat refused to go.  Her protest against the forces of nature were worrying us, but no amount of waiting her out would convince her to go.  Finally, on Friday, Mr. Taleteller and I decided to go out to a movie.  We took Treat, Hawk and our current foster dog out to the dog pens and gave them time to do their business.  I should have seen the gleam in her eye when they came back in, but I guess I was thinking about our night out.

When we got home from the movie, a much happier Treat came prancing up the basement stairs.  I was in shock at just that alone.  We'd taught both of them to do the stairs because we often have to retreat down there for storms, but neither of them had shown any interest in being down there.  We kept the cat food and litter box down there because the dogs never had an interest in going down those steps.

 However, that night, Treat decided to venture down the stairs.  She decided that since things weren't to her standards outside that she would use the cat facilities.  It was a grand plan, except that after holding it for several days, she peed enough to completely flood the litter box.  I can't even relate to you the looks of disgust and horror that were on the cats' faces as they saw how their box had been contaminated by dog urine.  I wish I'd had a camera for the whole scene.  It's one of my big regrets.  I couldn't even be mad at her!  It was on a concrete floor, not upstairs on the carpet.  It was a much easier clean up down there.

I can still see the look on her face in my mind, too.  She was so very pleased with herself that she'd solved the whole problem.  I can only say that I'm thankful that we kept a baby gate up so that she couldn't go into our bathroom.  Of course, the rain let up on Saturday, too.  Some dogs really are too smart for their people's own good!

Wordless Wednesday 5/5 -- We Still Miss You, Princesse Treat

Sometimes, life gives you a rare gift.  Be sure to cherish it while you can.

Puppies, We're Not In Kansas Anymore

We had a wicked storm the other night and it reminded me that we're in the midst of tornado season here in the Midwest.  As we sat and listened to storm warnings, I thought back to an earlier chapter in our lives.  It's a story that I thought might be fun to share.

The first year that we had Lilac found us still helping with a small greyhound adoption group that sadly is no longer in existance.  Mr. Taleteller and I had agreed to adopt Lilac, so we weren't really fostering greyhounds anymore, but we were still active with the group and doing what we could to help out. 

The woman who ran the group lives just a couple blocks down the street from us.  She had a pretty good relationship with some greyhound trainers and owners and she'd taken in several greyhounds who'd had an illicit meeting at the back fence and had come into a family way.  Greyhound puppies are a hot commodity in greyhound groups.  Don't ask me why, they're horrible little creatures most of the time!  They're often referred to as landsharks for good reason.  In any event, a female was brought to her who was suspected to be in the disgraced condition of being knocked up, but the trainer wasn't sure.

As weeks passed by, we'd go down to visit every few days and it soon became evident that she was indeed expecting.  A whelping box was prepared and she had her own private room in the basement.  She was a rather young greyhound, but a very sweet girl.  When it looked like she might possibly explode and that the arrival of the puppies had to be any day, something unexpected happend.  She had a seizure and collapsed on the concrete floor.  The mother-to-be was scooped up (no easy task with a dog who'd become wider than she is tall) and rushed to the vet.  The vet felt that she was still alright and sent her back to the house, saying that it was likely a sign that her puppies would arrive soon. 

Sure enough, the next day, she started to deliver her puppies.  The first one was born, a cute little brindle, and then she tried to deliver the second.  That second puppy would not come out.  Finally, some time later, the stillborn puppy came out.  Concern rose because she couldn't seem to get the next one out, either.  The woman's husband was gone, so she called us and we went down, helped load mama dog and her puppy into the back of their SUV and Mr. Taleteller rode in back with her while the woman drove.  I followed in our car in case we needed to leave for some reason. 

It was later in the day and the vet was called at home before we left.  He agreed to meet us there at his office.  When we arrived, he quickly decided that an emergency C-section had to be performed.  I assure you that when I woke up that morning, I had no idea that I was going to be helping with an emergency C-section on a dog.  We each had a towel and were given instructions on how to rub the puppies vigorously until the water was squeezed out of their lungs so they could begin to breathe.  There wasn't any time to be squeamish about it.  It was like catching a water balloon and I worked on my puppy for quite a while and sure enough, soon he started showing signs of life.  Another puppy was stillborn, but four more were born alive.  The mother was spayed right there before he sewed her up.  Because of the circumstances and the fact that she had things already set up for the mother and puppies at her house, they all went back home that night. 

The next morning, mama dog killed one of the puppies by stepping on it.  By three days afterwards, there were only two left alive.  Her maternal instinct just wasn't kicking in, so it was decided that the two surviving puppies would be taken away from her.  For a couple of weeks, they were taken care of at the vet's office, but then it was time for them to leave and go to someone who could care for them.  That turned out to be Mr. Taleteller and me.

I wasn't sure how our greyhounds would react to the puppies, particularly Lilac.  Hawk, in typical fashion, was terrified of them and refused to have anything to do with them.  Lilac looked at them as if they were spawns of the devil.  Of course, she was the only one of us who had any experience with greyhound puppies, so she was wise to avoid them.  I also later learned that just before she'd come to us, she'd left her second litter of puppies behind, so she was definitely still in the mood to be done with mama duties.  Treat was fascinated by them, though, and she'd sit beside me when I fed them, carefully supervising everything that went on.

We began taking care of the puppies in July.  For several days, I didn't leave the house at all.  I wanted to keep a close eye on my little charges.  Finally, though, I had a bill that had to be mailed over in town, and so I made up my mind to run quickly to town.  I figured that it would only take me about an hour and a half to run over and get back home. 

As I got ready to leave, I noticed that the sky was turning a bit grey and a few drops of rain were starting to fall.  I contemplated going back home.  Lilac is very storm phobic and worries and frets as storms approach, but I convinced myself to go anyway, because my errand really needed to be done.  So, I headed out of town.  Driving down the main road, I could see the storm rapidly approaching from my right and it looked like one doozy of a storm.  The sky was dark, angry grey that just roiled around.   I drove past a small manufacturing plant out in the middle of the cornfields and went over a small hill. 

It's funny how certain things in life happen all in a matter of timing.  Twenty minutes after I drove past that plant, I began hearing things on the radio about a tornado blowing through.  The more I heard, the more I felt that I needed to get my errand done and get back home.  I called my husband on my cell phone because he'd been out of town for work that day and I knew he'd hear about things from his office and be worried.  Getting back home proved to be a monumental task.  It seems that I missed the path of an F4 tornado by about two minutes. 

The manufactuing plant was decimated.  So were four houses that were along the road.  As a matter of fact, the whole road was closed because one of the houses was set back down right in the middle of the road.  Miles and miles of electric poles were taken out.  I had to drive way out and around through small country roads to get back home. 

We were without power for a week.  Our area was the center of a media circus for that amount of time, too.  I felt like I was living in an episode Little House on the Prairie.  Suddenly, preparing puppy bottles was a big production.  We did get lucky.  My dad has a generator and he brought it over, so we had about half of our house running on electricity.  It's a big status symbol here in our little village.  Actually, for the next three years in a row, we made use of that generator thanks to tornado season and an ice storm, all of which knocked us out of power for nearly a week each time. 

It's funny how we take so many things for granted.  I was glad that we had the whole experience, though.  We learned a lot, and honestly, we really had fun with those puppies while they were here.  I also really appreciated our creature comforts after that.  I guess it's a good example of life being what you make of it, too!