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.

Feathers From Heaven

Bunny here, with another post about our trip.

The last day of our vacation, Mom and I wanted to go and have time to enjoy the beach.  She knew how much I enjoyed the water, so we went down there to take a walk.  We enjoyed seeing lots of other dogs down there as well as people.  The sky was beautiful and the weather was perfect.  It was a great last day at the beach. 

While we were walking along, Mom told me about how much Treat used to love playing in the ocean, too.  She said it was Treat's favorite thing to do when they came to the beach.  I can certainly understand why!  As we walked, we spotted a feather on the beach.  You may be thinking that it's probably not uncommon to see a feather on the beach.  After all, there are lots of birds near the beach, however, we hadn't seen one so far.  A lot of people believe that feathers mean that someone in heaven is thinking about you.  We even bought a picture from an artist who painted portraits of dogs who'd crossed the Bridge and included a feather in the picture. Mom said maybe Treat was thinking of us.

Then, while we were walking back, we found a butterfly who was caught in the ocean.  It's wings were wet and it couldn't get into the dry sand.  So, we gave it a lift on my long line and it hung on there, drying its wings as we walked back towards our spot on the beach.  We stopped and I allowed Mom to take some more pictures of me on the beach, and wouldn't you know it, the butterfly climbed right up on her hand.  It sat there for a long time, and finally it was tickling Mom too much, so she set it down in the sand.  We sat there with it for a while before we walked back up to the hotel.  I hope it dried off and flew away.

I don't know if there were signs from Treat on the beach or not, but it's nice to think she was looking out for us and enjoying it with us.  I'm just glad that it was a perfect last day to enjoy the beach!

Birthday Wishes For A Prince Among Dogs

At night, when you look up at the sky,

since I shall be living on a star,

and since I shall be laughing on a star,

for you it will be as if all the stars are laughing.

You alone will have stars that can laugh!

And when you have got over your loss

(for we always do),

you’ll be happy to have known me.

You will always be my friend.

 -- Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

I think we have come to that point here, after Hawk's quiet passing in the beginning of November.  It doesn't mean that we don't still miss him at times, but now, we can reflect on our happy memories together and smile or laugh.  No doubt this is what the big guy would prefer.  He never could stand to see anyone upset.  Today would have been his thirteenth birthday.

There's no denying it, losing a dog is one of the most painful things that many of us go through.  Most dog lovers can attest to that fact.  Still, I look back on the lifetime Hawk spent with us, and I wouldn't trade the pain of missing him for the many happy memories we shared.  I think of all the hard work that went into bringing him home with us.  I sure learned a lot of lessons about patience from that boy.  We couldn't raise our voices about anything without upsetting him a great deal, even if we were happy or excited.  Stopping him from doing things he shouldn't was a fine balance.  Convincing him to move past his fears was, too.  I am not a patient person by nature, but I learned to cultivate it with him. 

I was certainly richly rewarded for it, too.  Hawk didn't hold back in letting you know that he loved you or that he was happy with what he had.  I still sometimes walk into the kitchen and am surprised that I don't feel him bumping twice against my hip.  It was his way of letting me know he was there and happy to help with any tasting that might be required, or just in case I needed a fuzzy ear to rub.  He was tall enough that I didn't have to bend down to reach him.  As soon as your hand reached his body, a huge grin spread across his goofy face and his tail would gently wag.  He just had a way of making you feel as if you really mattered to him. 

As he got older, the brindle spots on his body began to show a lot of white.  Mr. Taleteller joked that it was because he liked to be scratched in these spots and we were wearing the color off the poor boy.  He certainly did love our attention.  He left with a little piece of our hearts, but I believe he left us with a piece of his in return.  We were truly blessed to share his life with him!

Reminiscing

I would like to start by offering a huge thank you to everyone who has expressed their condolences to us over Hawk's passing. It has been a great comfort, especially since we just weren't expecting to lose him. He was almost thirteen years old and I didn't think he'd live forever, but I thought he'd bounce back and be with us for a while longer. I feel mostly at peace with our decision to let him go, but we miss him greatly. As I read through messages that people sent to us, I kept thinking to myself, "Oh, I should have mentioned that, or that, and I can't believe I didn't tell that story."

There was the time he fell asleep and scared himself with his own fart. We laughed so hard over that, but perhaps it wouldn't have been the best story to tell in his eulogy. There was the story about him with our crazy cat, Blizzard. That cat put the fear of God into more foster greyhounds that we had than I can count, and he got his bluff on over Hawk from the minute the poor guy set foot in our house. There's the story about the time Hawk and Treat appeared in a professional ballet production, all in the name of helping other greyhounds get adopted. He put up with a lot of silliness from us. He looks so GQ in all of the pictures we have of him, but the truth is, he was really a lovable goofball who was very protective of his toys. He'd sit on them to protect them from our fosters if he had to. He was deathly afraid of the camera, certain it would steal his soul with that crazy flash, and so he'd never look directly at it, hence the reason he always appeared so dignified in his photos. There was also his deep love of popcorn and the fact that for the last seven years we have not been able to say "potty" or anything that remotely sounds like it without making a trip to the back door, even if we just came in. All blog stories for a rainy day, perhaps.

He really loved his girls, and that included Treat, first and foremost, and me, but he also felt the need to take Blueberry and Bunny under his wing. He and Lilac got along, but perhaps he realized that our sassy little mama dog could take care of herself better than he could. They were never particularly chummy, but they seemed to have an understanding. He was happy when we brought Bunny home and one thing I wish I'd gotten a picture of were the times Bunny would walk underneath him, but this always happened at the back door at turn out time. He must have liked her, because nobody else could ever have pulled that off. He'd look at her and sort of shake his head as if to say, "Kids, what can you do with them."

He also loved to go on trips with us, and surprisingly, was a model hound whenever we went somewhere away from home. Apparently, there was no danger of the sky falling when we weren't in our own quiet little town. Either that or he was too busy making sure Treat and I didn't fall in the ocean or fall victims to some other disaster.

And now that we've celebrated his life, we're going to do our best to look forward. We have a very important event coming up on Tuesday that involves a certain little puppy here and we're excited about that. More than anything, Hawk would want us to remember him with a smile and a laugh, not with tears, and that's what we plan to do. He was a one of a kind, a dog who would have been a long, tall cowboy if he'd been human, and we'll always remember him with gratitude that he came into our lives. We thank everyone for enjoying hime with us!