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!

On This Day In History...

November 4 is an important day in the history of our family.  The fact that two important things in our life on the same date, a year apart, made me ponder some things.  It really gave me the sense that things in life really do come full circle.

A year ago today, we had to say good-bye to Hawk.  His body just couldn't keep going.  We had been in for some tests with him about a week before, and I recall that throughout Halloween night, he slept through the hustle and bustle of trick or treaters coming to the door.  I really thought that he'd bounce back, but we had to let him go even before we found out the results of the tests that were done.  In my heart, I know that even if we'd gotten those results, it still would have been time for him to go.  It was the end of an era for us.  Hawk and Treat were our first Greyhounds and they signified the beginning of our life together and our lives as adults with dogs.  Hawk stayed around long enough to make sure that Bunny was trained in the mysterious way that he and Treat carried themselves, I believe, and having completed those lessons, he moved on to be with Treat.

Two years ago today, a German Shepherd puppy was born.  She's turning out to be a funny, curious and sensitive companion who keeps us on our toes.  Sharing life with a Shepherd isn't like sharing life with a Greyhound, but it has its own rewards.  After Hawk passed away, our plan was to stay at three dogs, and then after Lilac passed, we'd go down to two, which was what we'd really planned to be at anyway.  Life takes turns we don't expect, though, and here Morgan is with us in a four dog household again. 

I have a feeling Hawk is happy with his successor.  Morgan has some of the same traits that Hawk had.  She likes to have everyone stay together, just like he did.  He didn't do head counts like Morgan does, but I'm sure that if he'd seen it in action, he'd heartily approve.  Hawk was always protective of Treat and me.  Morgan considers herself Bunny's personal body guard at the dog park, and she always has to know where I am, too.  Hawk was really goofy, and I loved watching him play.  Morgan could be a one dog entertainment show most of the day.

I regret that we didn't take up hiking with the dogs when we still had Hawk.  He hated walking in town, but if we went to a different place, he was happy to go along.  I suspect that he and Treat both would have liked hiking, but we had the idea that Greyhounds didn't do such things, and we hadn't learned to appreciate it that much ourselves.  Having Morgan has been good for us in that respect.  She needs the activity, both physically, but also the mental stimulation that comes with our hikes.  I think it's also good for her to see that the world is a mostly not too scary place. 

Hawk wasn't perfect when we brought him home, and Morgan isn't either, but I grew by leaps and bounds as a person through my experiences of meeting and rising to the challenges that living with Hawk brought me, and I think I've already grown some with Morgan.  It's sometimes hard to see those opportunities for growth when you're going through the growing pains, but it's rewarding to look back and see where you ended up.  So, please join with us today as we celebrate Morgan's second birthday.  Our journey together is just starting, but who knows where we'll all end up!

Biting The Bullet

I found it interesting last week to learn that Bullet sold at an auction for $35,000.  That would be the taxidermed famous German Shepherd of the late Roy Rogers.  I didn't watch the Roy Rogers show, but I grew up hearing about the amazing Trigger and Bullet from my dad, who was a fan of the show as a kid.  I wonder if Roy thought about what would happen with those two beloved pets' bodies so long after he'd passed away.

The story of the auction of Trigger and Bullet, along with many other pieces of memorabilia from the show made me think about a few things.  As a kid, when my pets or our livestock passed away, they were usually buried there on the farm.  My dad dug a hole and buried our pet, then later we'd visit the grave after it was filled in.  Only our horses weren't buried there, because that was a much bigger hole than my dad wanted to dig.  They were sent off to the foundary. 

As an adult, I've lost two beloved dogs.  It's never easy to lose a beloved pet, but it's been a much different process.  Both of them had to be put to sleep at the vet's office and then they were sent from there to the crematorium.  A few weeks later, we'd get a call to go and pick them up, which for me is almost as difficult as making that decision to let them go.  It's comforting to have them back at home, but it's also hard to see that the furry body that you've loved so deeply in life can be reduced to the contents of a small wooden box.  It's sobering and heartbreaking. 

When I read about Bullet being sold at auction, it made me wonder.   What if I'd had my beloved dogs taxidermed and kept them here with us?  What would happen to them after I pass away?  They have been priceless treasures to me, but would they ever be bid on at an auction like that?  I don't know, but it did make me think a bit.

A good friend recently lost her bull terrier to a heart attack at her house.  It was still cold out and they couldn't dig a hole to bury her.  Someone told her that a local funeral home also did pet cremations, so she decided she'd take the dog there.   I should mention that this dog's name was Gabrielle, since she was known as The Warrior Princess.  She was a tough little dog who did not like frou frou or frippery of any kind.  She also had a wicked sense of humor and was an extremely funny little dog. 

The call came for her to come and pick Gabby up from the funeral home, so she went on her lunch break to get her.  She walked in and it was funeral home quiet.  After looking around and calling out at the door with no answer, Kathy walked through the home, looking for someone.  Sure enough, the funeral director appeared out of nowhere on what seemed to be some kind of hovering platform to scare the beejeezus out of her.  After recovering her wits and assuring herself that she did not wet her pants, she told him that she was there to pick up her dog.  The man smiled kindly and lead her into a showroom where they had a variety of urns and boxes to choose from if she so desired.  She paid him for his services and then he handed her the dog's remains, in a fancy gift bag with fancy tissue paper sticking out the top and all artfully arranged with fancy ribbon. 

Kathy told us that she just cracked up laughing.  She was laughing so hard that tears streamed down her face.  All she could think of was that Gabrielle, Warrior Princess, would never have been adorned with such frou frou in her life and that she surely must be laughing to herself at the Bridge at the thought of all that fanciness.  She left a note for her friend who comes to let the dogs out (and who was with Gabrielle when she passed away) and told her that Gabrielle was sitting in her favorite chair the next time the friend came over to take care of the dogs.  Sometimes in the midst of loss, we get a laugh when we need it the most.

All of this makes me curious.  What do all of you do with beloved pets when they pass away?  Has anybody ever taxidermed their own pet?  I've heard some rather funny stories over the years about things that different things that have happened with other people after pet loss that have made me laugh and wonder.  I know that it's a very painful time when you lose a pet, but also that it can be a time when you remember a lot of wonderful stories and moments from your life together.  I also think that most of our pets would want us to have those happy times pieced into our hearts after they've gone.  So, feel free to share any remembrances that you have.

A Minute To Miss Maxdog

We were saddened to learn that Maxdog had left his family today for a better place.  While we will certainly miss him and his unfailing grace, we know that the heartache must be much greater for his family.  I spent a lot of time today trying to think of adequate words to share to be a comfort to his family, but I felt myself coming up blank.  Words just aren't enough to capture the wonderful spirit that was Max.  He shared his grace with all of us and showed us that miracles do happen.  So, I'll just share a poem and say "thank you" to Max and his mom for all they've shared with us and taught us.  Our hearts go out to you!

A Minute To Miss You

I wish we had another minute

What I’d give for one more hour

Our time together was sweet

But it ended much too fast

I sit above your lovely bones

And stare at your epitaph

But I know you aren’t really here

Your spirit left behind this ash

An empty stone can hold your name

But it doesn’t hold your heart

Your soul soared to a better place

And left me here to mourn your loss

We used to be so comfortable

Sitting where we could just be

I never had to say a word

You knew what was inside of me

Now I wonder if I should have said

Things that echoed in my heart

Did you know the things that I felt

And the home you made for me

Sometimes I hear you in the wind

Or see your smile form in a cloud

But I wish I felt your presence here
Instead of an aching wound

I know the place to keep you

Is deep inside my heart

Where you first carved in your name

And left an eternal mark

Sometimes it’s easy to forget

To seek you where it matters most

For we will always be a pair

Even though we’re now apart

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.

Tail Of A Princesse

Well, it's been a year since we lost our brindle princess. Adios Treat was one of a kind and we'll certainly never forget her. It's been a year of ups and downs as I try to collect my life and move past losing her. Some days I still cry when I think about her, but more often now I smile when I think about the things we went through together. Losing her was certainly one of the harder things I have gone through. A year later, though, I don't want to think about her loss or about how we lost her. I want to celebrate how she lived and how she changed my life for the better. I'd like to share the joy of Treat so that others can enjoy her like I did and so I don't forget some of the better stories we had about her.

Not long after we'd bought our house and moved out of our apartment, Treat came into our lives. She was our Christmas present to us in the year 2000. We went up to the Quad Cities Greyhound Adoption kennel and met their four cat safe greyhounds. One was a livewire who nearly jumped through a window, one only wanted to get back to his food, one was very shy and sweet and the female was very lovey dovey with us. That little female was the only one who looked back at us as they led her back to her crate. We went home to think about it. We thought we wanted the shy, sweet boy, but they advised us against him since we'd have to be walking the dog on a leash. So, we went back up to meet the dogs a few days after Christmas and make our final decision. The males milled about and socialized with the volunteers. Treat had made up her mind and she stood plastered to either my husband or me the entire time we were there. Finally, we got the message. She had decided that we were hers. She pretty much ran the show from there on out.

One of the things about her that amused me to no end involved my husband's habit for always forgetting his wallet before we were about to go somewhere. We would get to the door and Treat would be dancing with joy at the prospect of going out when he would turn and go back to the bedroom to get his wallet or checkbook. Treat always followed him, stamping her dainty feet in outrage because it was time to GO! I'd hear it start, and it always reminded me of the Jaws theme. I'd hear her teeth click together, once, twice and then "Dammit Treat" as she bit him in the rear to hurry him toward the door. It was funny because she never did it to me.

Another story that comes to mind involves her diva tendencies and her extreme dislike of the rain. Treat loved to play in bodies of water, oceans, lakes, wading pools and creeks were all things she would dive fearlessly into. However, if it came to getting a bath or going to the bathroom in the rain, she was not into it at all. One October we had a deluge that went on for about a week. We even got her a raincoat, but she would stand outside in the pen, squinch up her eyes and just wait for us to come and take her back inside. She held it for the week as far as I know. I could see the wheels turning in her head. The people have a place to go IN THE HOUSE. The cats have a place to go IN THE HOUSE. Why am I, a superior being, expected to go outside IN THE RAIN?! Friday night came and my husband and I went out to see a movie. We came home and found that Treat, who had never voluntarily gone down into the basement ever before, had gone down to the basement and relieved herself in the litter box. If she hadn't been holding it for a week, it would have been a brilliant plan. However, she flooded the cat box and made quite a mess of things. Still, how mad could I be? She'd gone downstairs, on the concrete and given it her best shot.

Treat loved to travel with us. We took her on several trips and she always handled it with such enthusiasm. The other greyhounds would sleep as we drove, but Treat was always worried that she'd miss something. She usually had to stand behind me with her head out the window as she smelled out where we were headed to. She really didn't care. Everything was an adventure just waiting for her. It amazed me how many people knew her from message boards and asked to pet her and meet her. She was always gracious and loved the attention she got. She seemed to think that it was simply her due. When we would get out of the van, we usually came back to find her sitting in the driver's seat, wishing her feet could reach the gas pedals, no doubt. I'm sure she could have driven it if she could have gotten the mechanics down. She'd still be out there, driving around the country and meeting people. We met so many wonderful people through Treat, and that is one thing that I will always be grateful for. To all the people who ever sent her gifts and well wishes in her many ventures, I send my heartfelt thanks. Treat really did know that everyone thought she was special.

Treat was in a ballet performance here of Giselle. She dutifully attended ballet practice for weeks and pranced across the stage during the performance as if she were a ballerina. While we were waiting to perform she even met Roberta Flack, who happened to be driving by and made her driver stop so she could meet the greyhounds. Treat, my little diva, was even featured in Celebrating Greyhounds magazine with the other greyhounds who were in the show. She loved all the attention. No doubt she was sure all the people showed up to see her. The mob who surrounded us during the intermission confirmed her thoughts. People couldn't get enough of her.

Another thing we experienced because of Treat was therapy dog visits. Treat became a certified therapy dog, and we went to several nursing homes where she had quite a fan club. She loved all the attention she got there and made everyone feel as if she came there just to see them. She always seemed to have time for everyone. Aside from the nursing home visits, she also was a READ dog and she helped quite a few kindergarteners and first graders believe that they could read. She loved to close her eyes and just listen to their voices as they read stories to her. Every one of them believed that she came just to listen to them. That was a huge part of her charm. She was there to make everyone feel better just by being with them.

Treat was always my nurse. I had several battles with pneumonia, and she was always right beside me, making sure my blankets were properly held down. She kept me under constant supervision when I was sick. When I had to have surgery on my hand for some nerve damage, she paid extra close attention to me. During that time, she took to sleeping right up beside me, her head propped on my splint. It was something she only did while I was recovering from the surgery. How she knew I needed extra attention at those times, I'll never know, but she was very diligent in her care when she knew I was sick or injured. Something in her always felt she should take care of me and she never failed in her mission. It was one of the things that endeared her the most to me, along with the dance of joy she always did on my behalf when I arrived back home, whether I'd been gone for a week or five minutes. She was always happy that we were back together again.

I learned so many things from her. I learned patience and persistance. I learned about a special kind of unconditional love. I learned the value and beauty of old age and dignity. I always thought I'd go through years with her where she was an elderly grande dame, but she became an old dog overnight. The disease that attacked her stuck quickly and ruthlessly, but she kept up the fight for me. She never bowed her dignity or pride to it. She learned to love having us carry her up and down the back steps and she demanded to live life, even her last weeks, on her terms. There will certainly never be another like her and while I miss her still, I am so very thankful to have shared my life with her. She made me a better person and that's something money could never buy.