Who's Driving?

Status Report

2012-02-11T13:00:00.000-05:00

When my little brother turned five years old, my mom brought home a puppy. It was a GSD mix, maybe some Doberman in there, maybe something bigger. She was one of the last puppies left in the cardboard box at the end of the day, so she ended up being my brother's birthday present. He named her Nibbles.

Nibbles went on to grow very large and somewhat vicious, ridiculously overprotective of "her" kids and "her" house and "her" yard. That's not the point. The point is, my last experience with the special mindset of a puppy was about three decades ago.

I realize that Monsoon is two and a half, so it's not as challenging as it could otherwise could be, but this dog is a baby. You know how I know? Because I was up at 3:30 this morning trying to get him to stop playing with his squeaky toys. See, when someone gets up in the middle of the night to use the washroom, Monsoon will dart out of the bedroom, down the hall to his toys, grab one and return to bed. He's so small and quick and hard to see at night that sometimes we aren't aware he's done this until we are drifting off again and it starts.

Squeak.

Squeak. Squeak.

Squeak squeak squeaksqueaksqueaksqueaksqueak!!

We had an urgent family situation arise this week that shunted aside all my plans to start working with Monsoon more in depth. He ended up having an extra week to get used to the house and I think it's served him well. He still has some anxieties and some idiosyncrasies that need a little help. For example, he loves his dad in the house and will walk with him happily, if dad leashes him and takes him out. If I leash him and take him out and dad walks up later, Monsoon acts as if he has no flipping clue who this man could be and hides behind my legs.

He hides behind my legs a lot.

He's picked up leash manners beautifully and will trot along on my left side with a slack leash. He responds to minor correction most of the time, although seeing squirrels or people or other dogs makes him forget everything. This week, as we resume normal operations around here, I hope to start working with a clicker. The first job is to find a treat sufficiently enticing, especially as Monsoon is shy about taking treats from the hand.

He is calming and settling, and his goofy baby antics lifted my heart more than once during this long strange week. I had hoped for time to write a longer update and share some of the ridiculous things Monsoon does that make me smile, but this was not the week for it. Next week promises to be a big slice of normal and I cannot wait.

As an aside, I did make a FaceBook page for this blog so that I'll have a place to stash some of my second-rate photos and inane one-line observations. ;) Feel free to join us there! And we're also joining the Blog Hop this weekend. If that's how you found us, welcome!

We’re participating in this Saturday’s Pet Blog Hop, hosted 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!

Worldless Wednesday

2012-02-08T09:25:00.000-05:00

I hope I don't become a collar addict. I can't afford it. ;)

Settling In

2012-02-04T10:53:00.002-05:00

I think he's going to be fine. Pardon the shaky camera work and the laughter we couldn't stifle. He was even bold enough to try to entice the teenager to play!

I promise to update at length soon. There's so much to say about my wonderful new boy. I hope you're having a great weekend!

Welcome to The Saturday Pet Blogger Hop, sponsored by Life With Dogs, Two Little Cavaliers, and Confessions of the Plume.

Worldless Wednesday

2012-02-01T08:18:00.000-05:00

Yes, yes. Lots of changes and excitement. Mm hm.

Life on Mars

2012-01-31T10:40:00.000-05:00

It's a warm place, and there's a schedule. You know what's going to happen and when it's going to happen. There's comfort in the routine. Sometimes you get to run. Mostly you get to sleep. There's good eating and rubdowns, all on your terms.

Then it stops. No more running. A change in the schedule. Different people. They pull you from your crate, your little apartment, and put you in a truck. The truck goes forever and when they pull you out again it's a different planet. It's cold and there are more new people. The people give you pills and shots and a bath, and then it's a different crate. That's alright, because soon there is a new routine. At least it's still a kennel, even if the turnout is bizarre, all cold and icy and this snow stuff is garbage.

But you haven't been there long, only three weeks, when they pull you again. More shots and pills and suddenly you're waking up and something is gone. Something you liked, a part of you. Your belly is upset too, gurgly and unsettled and you know something is wrong even if you don't understand worms. It's all sore and weird and not even a whole day later they drag you out of the kennel, through the snow, and there's this woman.

She's okay. Words happen between you, even if not out loud. She touches gently. She asks, you answer. She's okay. She touches the good places, finds the itchy places that always need stritching.

You lean. You lean hard. When she gets down on your level and slides an arm around you, you push into it and sigh. You lean. You nudge. There's eye contact, and you nudge her again and sigh, a long one this time. Thanks, lady, for a moment of comfort and connection.

Then that lady puts you in a "van" and there's more driving and then there's a "car," which is worse than the van, and there's more driving.

House. She says that word when she leads you in. House. How much more will there be? There's a dog here, and she likes you well enough. That's good. And that Woman is here, the nice one hasn't left you. That's good. But so much else is wrong. So much else is terrifying.

This is the wrong crate, and the wrong food, and the wrong bed, and one of these people is freakishly small and loud. How much more are you supposed to just take? There's a noise. Bark! That shiny surface keeps showing you a dog like you but he looks scared and he has no scent. Bark! A new person came in the House. Bark! People are outside on the streets. Are they going to take you? Are they going to make you sore? Are they going to change something? Bark!

There's a limit. Small Person hasn't touched you or yelled at you or anything, but the sight of him is too much so when he walks by your bed you tell him. You warn him, and Woman removes him for you. But then later he makes a noise down the hall and even though you can't even see him you are fed up. You scramble up and snarl and Bark! Enough!

Woman has you on a leash, because she always does when you aren't in a crate, so nothing comes of it. But the leash comes off and with soft words she makes you go into the crate. "It'll be okay, Monsoon."

Whatever "Monsoon" means. Now it's crate all the time, but when you get out there's walkies and sniffing. And after the smaller people are asleep at night, you can come out and play with toys. Toys! You want to tell everyone about toys! Toys are the best!

Now it doesn't matter as much if the Small Person is around. He can't get you. You can even sleep through his noises, except the loud ones. The Woman stays. You can see her. That's good, you like it when you can see her. Sometimes she leaves the room, but she comes back. Sometimes she leaves the house, but she comes back. That doesn't stop you from yelling for a while, but you settle. There's a soft bed in your new crate, and there's a stuffie to put your head on.

Maybe the sudden awful changes will slow down or stop. Maybe you can relax, in a while. Maybe you can settle, and learn this place and these people. There's toys, after all, and cookies. And glorious toys that SQUEAK.

It'll be okay. As long as everyone goes really, really, really slow.

Introducing...

2012-01-28T20:54:00.000-05:00

Monsoon

Impatience

2012-01-28T07:00:00.001-05:00

Happy Saturday! I hope you're having a great day. According to the weather reports, I am likely experiencing a gorgeous sunshiney day of temps that are pleasantly mild for the end of January.

I can't tell you if that's actually true or not, since I'm writing this on Friday night. Remember, I had something to do on Saturday, something pretty important.

Watch this space!

Wednesday Morning

2012-01-25T10:31:00.000-05:00

Her dad, all dressed in his work clothes, jingles Lanie's collar. He brandishes her coat. He calls to her and makes silly squeaky noises.

"Lanie! Come on! You MUST need to pee! Time for walkies! Potty? Hello?"

"*snore*"

More jingling and waving, but Lanie does not stir. Dad decides he will eat breakfast first and drag the old girl out later.

He opens the fridge.

Lanie appears. She is simply instantly there. And she won't be moving until she gets something out of the fridge, thanks. And weren't you EVER going to walk her? Where is her coat?! Boy, you humans can be slow...

Coming Soon...

2012-01-21T14:06:00.001-05:00

My dear sweet gray-muzzled girl, my Lanie,

Changes are coming to the house soon. Historically, you haven't appreciated disturbances to your routine so I figured I should warn you.

You miss your boys. After Bullie passed in April, you became instantly less snarky with Drive. You let him cuddle against you and rest his head on you. I think I saw the two of you play -- however briefly -- more in those six months than in the rest of the six years you lived together.

I know it hurt you, when I didn't bring Drive home. I'm sorry. I know I told you that before, but I'm so, so sorry I lost him. I wish I could have explained it to you. I wish I had some way to make you understand.

So for three months now you have been the only dog in our household. You have grown exponentially more cuddly and sweet and, frankly, obnoxious. I can't remember the last time we had a meal that wasn't accompanied by deranged howling. Seriously, girl, it's gotten to the point where I'm considering making you your own dinner plate so we can eat in peace, but you'd just finish first and then demand the rest of ours. Let's face it. You are not now, nor have you ever been, a good dog.

Fortunately, you have been the perfect family member for our particular family. (And your uncanny talent for knocking your dad in the man-bits keeps the sadist in me amused.) No matter how much more senile or demanding you get, you are in our family for life. That's how we roll. There's no escape. ;)

So I wanted to warn you, my spoiled little queen, that the family dynamic will be changing again. I finally got over my anxiety enough to call an adoption kennel. I have an appointment before the month is out, and I'll be going to meet some potential new family members. If the stars align, I may even bring him home soon. I think we're ready.

Derp.

As our senior canine, this selection needs to be made with you in mind. Obviously, the biggest factor in my choice will be personality. There are a couple other things I'm remembering as well. For example, for some reason you don't like female dogs. While I'm sure we could train and work and force tolerance, I'd rather not stress you because not only are you deranged, you are in your golden years and you don't deserve a major upheaval at age twelve-and-a-half.

The truth is, though, I'm not worried about you. Your dad and I think having a new brother is going to revitalize you. Aged or not, you are as funny and bouncy and energetic as ever and adding a new young man to the mix promises to be fun for everyone.

I can't wait to meet him. I can't wait to introduce the two of you. I can't wait to share him with all of our friends.

Love forever,
Mom, giver of cookies and neck scritches

Note to Our Friends: This post was written under the influences of painkillers, as I had a gigantic tooth removed this week. I hope you will forgive any weirdness, should you find any, but I did want to share my news. Next Saturday, I will be meeting some hounds and hoping that one of them is a match for our family. I'm so excited!

Winsome Wednesday

2012-01-11T09:39:00.000-05:00

Heh. Whoops.

2012-01-07T12:32:00.001-05:00

Nothing to see here. Everything is fine. Move along.

I'm having the weirdest anxiety right now.

Everything is in place. We're ready! I just need to call the kennel and make an appointment...

I didn't do it Friday. I panicked. I'm too nervous. This means too much to me.

I swear, I'm going to do it Monday. I will kick my long-standing habit of being terrified of happiness. I promise. I just hope I don't embarrass myself and start crying.

On the chance that you are here looking for non-crazy news, I have rather officially committed myself to attending Greyhounds in Gettysburg again this year. I'm excited to see some of my favorite people, including the fantastic ladies I travel with. Will you be there?

Good-bye, 2011...

2011-12-31T10:02:00.001-05:00

... I hated you.

I've been trying to motivate myself to write a blog post for almost six weeks. I wanted to give some sign that all was well, that I'm alive and fine and engaged. Probably the biggest problem is that hasn't been true. I've been depressed and over-extended, distracted by the holidays and disconnected from how I really feel.

Lanie is amazing. She'll be 13 in May and for the most part she's still energetic and insane. We've noticed lately she's getting quite a bit grayer on her chest and forelegs, the whole front end of her elegantly fading as befits a lady of her esteemed age. She has also, without doubt, become much more cuddly.

Just this morning she woke up early, peed on the living room rug, and then came and curled up between us in bed.

We agree that a new brother will be a good thing for her. Sure, she'll spend a while pooping in furious protest at the loss of attention and competition for resources. That's reasonable. She's entitled to let us know how she feels. Anyway, she only goes in one spot on the rug, so we keep that covered with plastic under a towel for easy clean-up.

A lot of my "dog friends" spoke to me, in the early days after I lost my Drive, about how the need for a new dog was intense and immediate. It doesn't happen with people, does it? I certainly don't want a new mother or new grandparents. But when I had to say good-bye to my Drive, the only thing I could think of to make any sense out of the world again was to put my arms around another dog.

What was best for me wasn't best for us as a family. That was harder than I can say, and I know that contributed to the depression I've been wrapped in for weeks. This was the first time in years that I've been in that terrible dark place and not had my Drive to whisper to. It spiraled quickly.

I want to stop this spiral. I want off. I want a new dog. I want to meet the friend that's waiting. I'm so very ready.

And I'm here to let you know that I'm alive. This year has to be better. And coming sometime in January I hope to be able to introduce you to the newest member of our family. Soon, soon!

I hope 2012 bring amazing things for you, my friends. I wish you all the best.

Ready for Fall

2011-11-23T13:06:00.000-05:00

Good News and Dismay

2011-11-19T09:20:00.002-05:00

The good news first: there is absolutely nothing wrong with Lanie's heart. She is, in fact, absurdly healthy.

The dismay: I'm looking for a new vet, after seven years. I'm uncomfortable with change and averse to trying new things, but I can't overlook how unhappy I am about a few things. My plan is to get Lanie's dental taken care of soon, but to start looking around for a greyhound-savvy vet. It'll be a little complicated, since we're in a semi-rural area and vets are exactly thick on the ground in the first place, but I don't mind driving a bit if I have to. There is an emergency hospital nearby for the unthinkables that might take place at odd hours.

When my Drive had his dental last spring (April or May, I can't remember), the same thing happened to him that happened with Lanie. They called in the morning to say that his EKG was a little "off" and they wanted to take an x-ray of his heart. We had just lost our Bullie, not two or three days before, so I was already a mess, and they scared me. The x-rays came back "inconclusive." The vet painted terrible, dire pictures for me and, terrified, I told them to go ahead and do the ultrasound. Of course his heart was perfect.

To recap, I brought Lanie in for her dental last week, got the "questionable" EKG results, had the "inconclusive" x-rays done... And refused to okay the ultrasound. I am not made of money, people. I may have mentioned that. If I'd thought for a moment that Lanie had any problem whatsoever, it wouldn't have been about money, but all I could think was, "Didn't I just do this?"

You know why the x-rays show a heart that is borderline enlarged? Because greyhounds have large hearts. I learned, after repeated phone calls and persistence, that the EKG results were "off" because no one told the EKG analysts they were dealing with a greyhound.

Once that fact was made clear they said, "Oh, well, that's all perfectly normal for a greyhound."

I am not a happy customer. In the end, what made the decision for me was an extra $19 on my bill. "What is this?" I asked, as I was already forking over $200 for the stupid x-rays that weren't even necessary. "I'm being charged $19 under boarding?"

"That's our policy. It's for cage use and technician time."

"She was here for four hours! Getting stupid x-rays!"

"It's just policy." (I will spare you the rant on how much I loathe it when people hide behind policies.)

"I've been coming here for seven years and I have never, ever been charged a boarding fee." (I even checked, because I keep all the vet information filed.)

"That was an oversight, I guess. It's policy."

So! If you happen to live near me and know a great greyhound-savvy vet, let me know.

Thank you so, so much for the support and thoughts and advice I asked for last week. I meant to reply much sooner but I was flattened by some weird viral thing and spent a few days in bed feeling sorry for myself. :)

It's Never Simple

2011-11-13T10:01:00.001-05:00

Of course, Lanie's dental did not go off as planned.

The day before, I took her to the vet for a blood panel and an EKG. Her bloodwork came back perfect, but the EKG detect an abnormal beat or two over the space of 30 seconds. No big deal. The plan was to repeat the EKG with a longer duration in the morning.

The longer duration EKG was less than ideal. As seems standard with these things, the information is relayed over the phone to a company that specializes in interpreting it. They expressed concern over the results. Again, there was an abnormal beat or two; no clarification of what that actually means. They also said there were "indications" of an enlarged heart.

The vet working with me is trying to get more information from the EKG people, who insist that for a more in-depth analysis they will have to charge more. Meanwhile, an x-ray of Lanie's heart looks normal from the side and maybe, possibly "borderline" large from the top. Lungs are clear. She has no symptoms of any illness (other than the mental caseload she's always carried, obviously.)

So the vet recommends that we do an ultrasound of the heart to be extra-super-sure that Lanie does not have any enlargement issues.

If I were wealthy, this wouldn't be a problem. But I'm not. I'm really not. I checked. In fact, I checked right before I started writing this post and I'm still pretty not-wealthy. So I am left trying to decide if I want to give my dog a $300 ultrasound on a heart that might maybe be a little enlarged, so that we'll know that before she has dental surgery. Because she still needs her teeth cleaned and one of her canines probably needs to come out. That three hundred bucks is the money we have set aside for her dental.

She has no symptoms of anything. As far as anyone can tell, she's in perfect health and full of joyful, deranged energy. We're really unsure what we should do. Either way she's getting her teeth cleaned, but our choices are to get the ultrasound and put off her teeth until tax time, or get her teeth cleaned without an ultrasound and take our chances -- which we're doing anyway, given that Lanie is an elderly greyhound.

My favorite part of having this blog is reading the comments, especially when people share their own anecdotes. I don't think I've ever said that before. So I'm telling you now, I love the comments. I love the experiences, and I especially love the wisdom.

If you have any wisdom to offer here, I would love to hear it.

(Preemptively because I know some of you: Thank you deeply and sincerely but please don't construe this as a plea for financial aid. ;) )

My Only Dog

2011-11-09T10:42:00.000-05:00

"I'll stop smacking you when you get it out of my face."

Lanie is not a fan of the camera. After all, it it not made of food and it does not squeak. All it does it flash in her eyes, eliciting a death glare that only ladies of a certain age can manage.

At age 12 and a half, her pointy little face is white and her eyes have clouded. She used to hunt frogs relentlessly, making walks in the spring and summer a constant challenge as she lunged and snapped at the hopping meat-snacks. This summer, we realized that she simply doesn't see well enough to do that any more.

It's harder to tell if her hearing has faded. I'm disposed to believe she just ignores me more, since if I think too loudly about opening the fridge she will materialize from the ether.

She is a grand, goofy old dame. She is a glorious mixture of bravado and insecurity, terrified of a slammed door but not thunder. Helium balloons are the devil to her, but she will snarl and lunge if we make the mistake of walking her by the neighborhood bull mastiff. I am her humble servant who exists to feed her, but when she is scared she shoves her head against my chest.

Since we lost my Drive, she's been the only dog in the house. Always a velcro girl, I've noticed the length of time she lets me out of her sight has decreased. She's less content lately to be within sight range and now feels the need to be within petting range whenever possible. She has absolutely become needier. I can understand. So have I.

The strangest difference is her sudden, avid interest in going for car rides. I think she just hates that I sometimes leave the house without her. She hates being alone, poor sweetie.

I'll address the issue of "When will she be getting company?" in a different post.

This evening Lanie goes to the vet for bloodwork and an EKG, so that tomorrow she can be safely anesthetized for a dental cleaning. (She won't be spending the night there.) She's in overall excellent health, especially for a senior dog, and her teeth are not the nightmare that some greyhounds' are, though she has broken a canine recently. She was probably checking to see if something was edible by biting it, like a great white shark.

I'm reminding myself of all the reasons I don't need to be worried, and I'm worrying anyway. I'll keep you updated.

And I think I'll take my dog out to lunch. She loves the drive-thru.

Words 2

2011-11-02T08:28:00.000-04:00

Words 1

2011-10-26T08:26:00.000-04:00

What He Gave Me

2011-10-22T12:48:00.000-04:00

I needed a friend, so I went looking for a dog. I found Drive.

Within a year of bringing Drive home, I lost my job and my ability to work. I lost most of my contact with the outside world. For a while there, it was me and my dog. He listened to me. We worked through some stuff.

I fell in love with everything about greyhounds, so I joined a forum. I wanted Drive to have doggie friends so I went to a few outings. Being able to talk about Drive helped me focus and get over my terror of other people enough to have a conversation. When anxiety started to crowd my brain, I could just look at Drive and curl my fingers into the soft fur at his neck. There are so many pictures of me with my fingers like that. Every single one is a picture of my dog comforting me.

He was beside me. He kept me steady. He engaged me.

Drive made me so happy it seemed obvious to share him. I promise, he was every bit the sweet old gentleman I portrayed him as. He was so patient with me.

I started to meet people, good and wonderful people who know the true value of a dog. I went on trips!

I sought Drive because I needed a friend. Because of Drive, I am surrounded by friends as I grieve him.

I don't want this day.

2011-10-19T08:35:00.000-04:00

This is the first day without Drive. I do not want this day.

After lunch yesterday, I sat on the couch with him and played a little. I rubbed his ears, told him how silly and beautiful he was, scratched his belly a little. I crossed the room. I was doing dishes when I heard the sound of him staggering. I wish I'd never seen that. I think it was a stroke. I caught him. He never fell.

I couldn't carry him to the van and I couldn't get the back seats out of the van myself anyway. I just held him. I stayed wrapped around him, talking to him. I thought he would die then. My husband raced home from work to help me and we took my Drive to the vet.

There was too much damage.

I wanted him outside. He loved to lay in the sun. We took him outside on a stretcher and I got on the ground with him and held him. I stroked his bunny-soft neck and I kissed his ear and told him how silly and beautiful he was. "You are the best dog, son. You did everything right."

He was smiling. He was smiling and looking into my eyes. He was so peaceful.

I don't know what I'll do without him.

He carried my heart.

Bask

2011-10-16T11:28:00.001-04:00

The Sunshine of My Love

We Live!

2011-09-19T09:29:00.001-04:00

Content should resume soon! I was having a little brain issue and Drive was busy as usual helping me through it, mostly by sleeping nearby. In the meantime, please enjoy this picture of a dog named Stanley catching a disc. :)

Wordless Wednesday (almost)

2011-08-31T10:48:00.000-04:00

“To the world you may be just one person, but to one person you may be the world.”

Wordless Wednesday

2011-08-24T08:00:00.000-04:00

Focus

2011-08-22T08:00:00.002-04:00

I've posted quite a few pictures of Ki-lee on this blog now; yesterday's is one of my favorites. Aside from being stunning, she's a very special little girl to me, and her mom is one of my dearest friends. We spent the day hanging out together yesterday and I got some great shots of our beautiful dogs. I can't take a lot of photographic credit for these. It's hard to take a bad picture of a greyhound.

Ki-lee is a young dog and she was fascinated by the ocean. She couldn't figure out why the waves came at her but then receded, as if they wanted to play. She was still looking over her shoulder as we left the shoreline, puzzled by the giant sloshing creature.

Sunday Smile

2011-08-21T11:54:00.000-04:00

Ki-lee: How I adore this girl!

The Look of Love

2011-08-20T08:09:00.000-04:00

Wordless Wednesday

2011-08-17T12:35:00.000-04:00

Look Who Showed Up

2011-08-12T15:46:00.000-04:00

It's Friday.

You know what, Friday? I think you might be too late.

Wordless Wednesday with Ana

2011-08-10T11:22:00.000-04:00

Roo Face

2011-08-06T14:25:00.001-04:00

Drive has a squeaky, funny little bark. For a big male dog with so much chest cavity, I kind of expected more depth. More resonance. But no. He yips.

Lanie, on the other hand, has that gruff deep voice you'd expect. She talks all the time, like in the video I posted yesterday, usually variations on "Hurry up with that food, lady." She makes the greatest faces, so I talk back to her and keep up conversations with her. I would love to get in her doggy little brain and learn what she thinks she's telling me. Wouldn't that be awesome?

Lanie Explains it All

2011-08-05T10:43:00.000-04:00

Translation: "Give me that. That cookie. I can see it. Give it here. NOW."

She's very vocal when she wants something.

Hump Day State of Mind

2011-08-03T06:00:00.004-04:00

I'm Easily Amused

2011-07-30T11:48:00.000-04:00

To be fair, he's really mellowed with age. He used to emit the Greyhound Scream of Death whenever I brought the clippers out. Now he can be bribed with treats to endure the agony. He still screams once or twice every time I have to do his nails. Maybe you can imagine, that gets hard for both of us. When Drive went in for his dental, they took the chance while he was unconscious to really cut his nails back; I feel a little bad about that still. Poor guy was already miserable and out of it from anesthesia and losing ten teeth, and now his feet hurt too.

That said, I'm determined to be a more vigilant pet steward about his nails, and if that means I have to feed him an entire meals' worth of treats to keep it from being an ordeal where we both cry, so be it!

Here is a video.

2011-07-28T09:37:00.000-04:00

Please enjoy this video of a small boy giving treats to a dog.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-07-27T05:26:00.000-04:00

Just a Hint

2011-07-24T16:30:00.000-04:00

It would take me forever to count the ways I love him, but "tiny peek of tongue" is on the list for sure.

Cast of Characters

2011-07-23T08:38:00.000-04:00

I have to warn you, this one is a little emotional.

I'm one of those people that "forges on" when things get difficult. I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to deal with my losses, I don't want a hug. When I need to talk about some ache that feels too big, I just want to put my arms around my dog and press my face into his fur.

I've lost dogs before. I got a little terrier mix from a shelter when I was 20, and I held her when I was about 30 as they put her to sleep. I lost one to a divorce, and found out later she was dropped at a shelter (rather than given back to me.) I lost the best companion off my childhood, a vicious Dobie-GSD-something-huge mix named Nibbles (not kidding) who passed away when I was in college.

And still, those were Before.

I've always liked dogs. What's not to like? They listen as if you're brilliant, they love everything you feed to them, they think you're a genius, they care when no one else does.

And then I met Drive. And just like that, dogs ascended in my view. I understood "dog people." I became one of them. There can never be another Drive, I know that, but never again in my life will I be without a dog. Actually, just the idea of having only one dog seems a little strange, but that's a matter of finance rather than preference for me. When I think of my future, of the "lifestyle" track I want to be on, there's dogs everywhere in my imagination. When I answer the question of a hypothetical lottery win, I get teary-eyed thinking of all the puppies! With a million dollars I could save so many puppies...

This new worldview has an unexpected bittersweet twist. I didn't just lose a pet a couple of months ago. I lost a person. I lost a living soul who took up a big space in my world and now, all these weeks later and after an emotional few days, it's hitting me how much I miss my Bullie.

I'm not even going to put his picture on this post; I linked to it up there with his good-bye post. Even looking at that makes me remember, I was holding him when he passed. I was looking into his eyes when the lights in them faded.

We go to McDonald's, and buy the $1 box of four chicken nuggets. I hand the extra one to my husband.

"What are you doing?"

"That's the extra one. You can eat it."

And about then, I remember that we only have two dogs. That they can just have two damned nuggets apiece and there's no extra anymore.

And then I think of Drive, who is 11. And Lanie, who is 12. And I take a breath and remind myself that I'm strong enough to love this much and then say goodbye.

Bullie was almost 9 when we (accidentally, I'm serious) adopted him. It was a few years for us, that's all. A couple years with an old stripey dog, followed by months of this heavy, pushing grief and a place for him in my heart forever.

It's worth it, because for Bulldozer, it was the rest of his life. He did not die a lonely and unloved dog in a shelter. He didn't spend his remaining time in a kennel waiting for someone to want an old, shy dog that didn't attach quickly or trust easily. He died held by arms that loved him. Someone wept for him, and still does. He died with toys. He died after a thousand wonderful meals and uncountable treats. The rest of his life was warm, loving, interesting, and full of delicious surprises.

It's worth it.

Funny Friday

2011-07-22T10:49:00.000-04:00

Drive, Eater of Rainbows and Other Soft Things

Problem Child

2011-07-21T10:42:00.000-04:00

"I could be off hunting whatever tiny things live in those woods."

For every beauty shot I have of Drive, I have a few failures. He doesn't like to look at the camera. Lanie doesn't either, and she adds a level of difficulty: some angles make her look deranged. Her ears, her squinty eyes, her overbite, her "get offa my lawn" old-lady attitude... I try not to get offended when people (not greyhound people, of course) smile and ask so kindly, "Oh, what's wrong with your poor dog?"

Eyes: almost the same size!

Her habit of squinting whenever she's outdoors is so pronounced that every so often I look it up under "canine symptoms" to see if she's got a problem or if she's just narcoleptic. Even in the shade, she looks like a vampire with a hangover if she's deemed it "too bright."

(And while I thank you in advance for the advice that will surely come, she's not the sort of dog that tolerates things wearing things very well so we won't be buying Doggles anytime soon. Or a hat, which is too bad because I think she'd totally rock a little bonnet or fascinator. Something in teal or fuchsia. She does enjoy PJs in the winter.)

Might be my new favorite picture EVER. Look at that.

Proof that she can be pretty, too!

You'll have to take my word for it. When she's curled up on my bed looking at me with deep, soulful brown eyes and a quivering chin, she's the most beautiful little girl there is. It's sometimes hard to get that captured in an image, though.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-07-20T11:00:00.000-04:00

Hey, I hope no one minds I took two weeks off from the internet. ;)

Wordless Wednesday

2011-07-06T09:26:00.000-04:00

Eleven!

2011-07-03T20:41:00.000-04:00

I haven't the mental wherewithal for a long post about what this day means, but today is Drive's 11th birthday. He and Lanie have been busy this week keeping me sane. But I want you to know we celebrated this momentous occasion with a ride in the car and a cheeseburger, his two most favorite things in the world. To further enhance his joy and wonder at the day, we've been randomly feeding them treats with no "Sit!" or "Roll Over!" attached.

And the children are out for the night with their grandparents. How much better could a dog's life get?

I'll tell you! The fireworks were postponed due to cloud cover! Score!

Lanie always wants to go on car rides, but the truth is that she spends most of the time terrified. Today I am pleased to report she did fairly well and kept her head out the window the entire time.

By the way, even the 4-door Toyota Yaris is too small for two dogs. FYI.

Noms!

Eleven. More than half his life with me, now.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-06-29T09:57:00.000-04:00

Wordless Wednesday

2011-06-22T14:51:00.000-04:00

I'm Not Even Embarrassed to Say...

2011-06-21T14:29:00.000-04:00

That is best picture I have ever taken of a snot droplet. I'm very proud of myself.

Wordless Wednesday (almost)

2011-06-15T14:13:00.000-04:00

There's 10 left, in case you're trying to count.

Oh Happiest of Saturdays!

2011-06-11T09:29:00.000-04:00

May all of your fondest wishes be granted as well!

Adventures in Dentistry

2011-06-04T13:20:00.000-04:00

I admit it, I was in love with Drive's little snaggle tooth. It was another bullet point on the lengthy list of "What Makes Drive Adorable." But in my heart, I knew it was in peril.

His teeth were in bad shape, and he was due to have a dental cleaning before we left for Gettysburg. On the original date of his appointment, however, abnormalities appeared on the pre-operative ECG. The vet suggested an ultrasound of his heart, which presented a serious problem: if we opted for the ultrasound, our limited funds would no longer allow the dental. But what if there were something wrong with his heart, and he suffered a catastrophic crash under anesthesia?

We chose the ultrasound. I spent the day pacing and anxious, and Lanie was much the same. This was, after all, the very day after we had lost our beautiful old Bullie.

The ultrasound showed no abnormalities, nothing in his heart flapping or leaking that shouldn't be, nothing to thick or too weak.

His rescheduled dental took place on this past Tuesday. I expected he would lose three or four teeth, and that a couple of the extractions might even be difficult. I feared for his buckteeth.

I was not expecting to hear, "We took seventeen teeth."

His front teeth were among the casualties. Twelve of those seventeen were so loose they barely registered on the receipt; they practically fell out. Two of them were difficult but required due to bone loss and exposed root.

Here's a shot of his new, less toothy snoot. After a rough first night, he's back to himself, eating and drinking and smiling at me when I come home. And his remaining several teeth are a brilliant pearly white.

Lanie's Treat

2011-05-29T15:47:00.000-04:00

Did Lanie get a cheeseburger for her (belated) birthday present?

Yes.

Are there pictures?

Just one.

Just Look at the Camera!

2011-05-28T08:43:00.000-04:00

Seizing a moment of warmth and sunshine, I dragged an allergy-ridden and grumpy Drive off his couch and onto the front lawn for some snapshots. He was... uncooperative.

Not. Interested.


Hang on, I've got this itch...


Seriously, Mum, my allergies are killing me!


What are you doing? Is that cheese?

I guess I can smile for some cheese.

Now give it to me.

Happy Saturday! I hope to take Lanie out later for some special "Mommy Time" and a belated birthday treat or two. If it's a holiday weekend where you are, stay safe and have fun. If not, stay safe and have fun anyway. And again this weekend, join us on the Pet Blogger Hop!

Lanie, Age Twelve

2011-05-26T11:35:00.000-04:00

I can't believe it.

I forgot Lanie's birthday.

On May 1, 1999, six pups were born unto one "Rancho Kimme Gal." Among these, a red brindle female with an overbite registered as Texlan Sensation, 59B-80673.

In the late fall of 2005, I saw this picture.

"I need that dog," I told my husband / enabler. At the time, we had only Drive and we'd only had him for six months or so. I read the sad little story of Lanie's abandonment and surrender. I studied her overbite and funny, folded-over ear. I repeated, "I need that dog."

"Aren't you supposed to convince me that dog needs us?"

"She does. But you don't know her, you know me. And I'm telling you, I need that dog."

The moment she was available for adoption, we put Drive and our little girl (no little boy at the time) in the truck and drove three hours without making so much as a phone call. "We're here for Lanie," we told them.

"Really?"

"Er, yes?" They led us to the kennels out back and I passed any number of sweet, sociable animals. But I knew why I was there. We stopped in front of Lanie's kennel. Huddled and miserable, she took one look at us and barfed up several meals' worth of kibble. From the kennel worker there was a palpable air of We are never going to get rid of this one.

The whole situation suddenly seemed ridiculous to us, I guess. Husband and I started laughing uncontrollably as we asked if we could take her out for a walk and let her meet Drive in the yard. "Really?"

Outside, she ignored us and Drive completely, a striped mass of depression and disinterest.

"We'll take her," we said.

"REALLY?!"

Yes, really and forever.

Lanie walked into our home, trampling over our hearts on the way, and peed on one of the couches. She then hoisted herself onto the other couch, flipped onto her back, and was home.

She's insecure and clingy, demanding and noisy, conniving and demanding. She's never more than five feet from me, if she can help it. Her big brown eyes follow me around the room. "I'm right here," I tell her all the time. "It's okay."

She's twelve years old. Yesterday she ran laps around me, leaping in the air and throwing up clods of grass and mud. She steals food and picks the trash and howls for attention. She is one of the sweetest and neediest creatures I've ever met, and I was right. I sure do need this dog.

We'll have a celebration for her this weekend.

Sunshiney Wednesday

2011-05-25T09:54:00.000-04:00

What's over there?

Old Dog, New Trick

2011-05-21T12:12:00.000-04:00

We're alive! Barely. You should see the storms of pollen outside, following a week straight of rain. I'm just going to cut myself some slack about the whole didn't-post-for-two-weeks thing.

You know, since we got back from Greyhounds in Gettysburg, Drive has changed. He's been my best friend for six years now and I think this is the first time I can honestly say that an event has changed him. Before this, if I suggested we go somewhere he would graciously allow himself to be shut in the car and wait patiently until we arrived. (He does recognize McDonald's, though. That gets a reaction from him.)

Now? When it looks like I might be putting on clothes suitable for the outside world -- and I still don't know when he learned to differentiate, but he can, I swear -- he starts wagging his tail. Should I venture into the bathroom and brush my teeth or put on makeup, he starts grinning and the wagging gets more enthusiastic.

At this point, if I go anywhere near my shoes or keys I will be attacked.

He wasn't like that before.

Even if I'm just taking them outside for a quick walk, Drive stares at whatever vehicle is in the driveway and whines piteously. Take me somewhere, he cries. Anywhere. Just let me in the caaaaaar!

The obvious and easy solution has been to take him along on more errands. It's working for both of us, I think.

We're joining in the Pet Blogger Hop again this week. Welcome!

Sleepy Saturday Blog Hop

2011-05-07T09:38:00.000-04:00

There may be rumors circulating that I almost never pass up chance for cocktails. This is true. While in Gettysburg, I was pleased to combine my love of dogs with my love of drinking, and attended a couple of social gatherings in the hotel ballroom. If you think attending a cocktail party with a few dozen dogs in attendance is a noisy, messy proposition, you need to spend more time around greyhounds.

The atmosphere with greyhounds in attendance is so relaxing that even Chester Hoover, world-famous party animal, was inspired.

Charm

I think I'm inspired to go back to bed myself!

If you're visiting from the Blog Hop, welcome!

Wordless

2011-05-04T08:44:00.000-04:00

Ki-lee Dreaming

Greyhounds in Gettysburg

2011-05-02T10:48:00.000-04:00

Drive and I have safely returned from our very first greyhound convention!

We attended Greyhounds in Gettysburg with my friends Sharon and Karen and stayed at the absurdly dog-friendly 1863 Inn. I was thrilled to reconnect with some old friends and to meet some of my dog-loving friends for the first time. But I know you aren't here for my sappy adoration of the pet-loving and dog-blogging community. You want pictures!

Too bad. I want to say first that I owe a lot of these friendships to Life With Dogs. The crew over there works semi-tirelessly to keep us amused, and through that site and its fan page on Facebook, I've met some of the pet world's best, friendliest and funniest. I don't get out much, but when I do it's usually to get together with folks with whom I have a love of dogs and Life with Dogs in common.

Okay. Now here are a few pictures.

Drive, at the hotel. This is actually the first day there. He's pretty mellow.

I think most of the cars in the hotel lot were decorated.

Bunny, who has a more extensive and fashionable wardrobe than I do.

Zoe the whippet. My plans to smuggle her home in my bag were foiled.

Chester, who is NOT a fat greyhound but a chocolate lab.

I was honored to meet Lilac, a grand dame of 15 and a half years.

Drive and Charm became close, cuddly friends on the trip.

Charm's coy look. She's just breathtaking and so sweet.

How's this for mellow? He's a yard away from a table laden with barbecued chicken and ribs.

You can meet Bunny and Lilac (and their sisters) over at Tales and Tails. Chester shares his deep chocolate thoughts at For the Love of Chester. You can find stunning pictures of Zoe and her family at Dogs Rock.

I'll have more tomorrow. Or maybe Wednesday. Lanie is demanding a lot of my time to make up for leaving her at home, but she doesn't seem to have suffered much as her Dad was here overcompensating. ;)

Minute of Zen

2011-04-25T18:24:00.000-04:00

Well, it's how Lanie does zen, anyway.

She's feeling more herself today.

Happy Saturday, and a Blog Hop

2011-04-23T09:34:00.000-04:00

First please let me express my gratitude and awe for the outpouring of love and sympathy we received after Bullie's passing on Wednesday. I could not have gotten through it, nor the terrible day that came after, without my incredible internet family.

Although we knew his time was close, he suffered rapid decline over his last few days, falling nearly every time he tried to stand. He seemed confused and uncomfortable and I made the decision to release him. I was there with him, holding him close and telling him over and over how much we loved him. Thank you so much, friends, for easing my grief even just a little bit.

"The misery of keeping a dog is his dying so soon. But, to be sure, if he lived for fifty years and then died, what would become of me?"
--Sir Walter Scott

Join us on the Blog Hop after the cut!

Drive spent the whole of Thursday at the vet's office. We had expected him to get a full dental; I'll explain tomorrow (or whenever) why that didn't happen. But that meant that Lanie, our less-than-sane old brindle girlie, was the only dog in the house all day.

I know that animals feel. I know they love, I know they have joy, I know they mourn. I saw a side of Lanie during those long lonely hours that shocked me. Far from the snarky and assertive old dame that she usually is, she spent the day following me timidly around the house, looking everywhere for her brothers. She didn't eat, which is just unnatural for her. She was so lost and so depressed. We spent a great portion of the day curled up and consoling each other.

When, late in the evening, I came home with Drive, she was beside herself. She licked him for a good solid five minutes and then tried to harass him into playing. She abused every toy in the house, jumped from couch to couch, bounded and leaped. She was overjoyed to see him, there is no question in my mind.

He spent the day after his harrowing veterinary ordeal on the couch.

So I took Lanie for a walk down to our stream, one of her favorite places even though there is no food there. (Aside from the occasional unfortunate frog.)

Once again we're joining the Saturday Pet Blogger Hop, hosted by Life with Dogs, Confessions of the Plume, and Two Little Cavaliers. Welcome! Poke around, look at the pictures, have fun.

Goodnight, Sweetheart

2011-04-20T20:31:00.000-04:00

We said good-bye tonight.

My Bullie

Ima Bulldozer

June 1, 1998 - April 20, 2011

Be at peace, my sweetheart. No more hurting. Thank you for the honor of loving you.

You were a very, very good boy.

Goodbye, my love.

For today, the good news!

2011-04-18T09:47:00.000-04:00

Another week escaped me. My humble apologies. Things have been hectic at our house. Doctor and vet appointments and car fixing and hard decisions and some easier ones.

Let me start with happy things.

On Drive's Gotcha Day, he and I met up with friends for a little socializing with a specific purpose in mind.

We are going to Greyhounds in Gettysburg! The outing Saturday was to make sure that Drive and the two lovely greyhounds with whom we will be traveling would be comfortable riding together in the back of a van. I wasn't worried, to be honest. Drive is a passive sort of guy and both of the other hounds are known to (and loved by) me. We drove around for a couple of hours, stopped to visit a beach, and enjoyed the company and conversation. I'm confident there will be no issues.


Ki-lee

I've met Ki-lee (and her mom, Sharon) more than once before. Long story made short, Ki-lee stood in as "therapy hound" for me once, when Drive was at home and I was not. Helping keep track of her, petting her, talking with her, taking pictures of her phenomenal ears -- she kept me from more than one panic attack the day we met. She also, for reasons not yet known to me, decided that I was perfect for sitting on. She's reiterated this opinion every time we've been together since. I'm lucky to know her and to have a friend like Sharon who will share with me.

Just to make you really jealous, this is Charm:

Charm

Is she not beautiful? I think I'm going to be with three of the prettiest hounds at GiG! And I think you can tell from this picture that everyone got along just fine. This was the first time Drive and Charm had met; that's his haunch Charm is using for a pillow. I'd met Charm and her mom, Karen, before and I couldn't be happier about taking this trip with good friends and greyt pups.

With that, everything is a go!

Gotcha!

2011-04-09T09:10:00.000-04:00

Every dog should be so loved.

Six years ago, I brought you home. I didn't know who you were, or what you would become.

We have a fun day planned to celebrate our anniversary, and I can't wait to share the pictures with everyone! While you're waiting for those, why not look around the Saturday Pet Blogger Hop?

Wellness Wednesday

2011-04-06T08:31:00.000-04:00

Well, things are looking good. Drive is a healthy 74 pounds and only screamed twice while we were in the office for his (and Lanie's) annual check-up. He peed copiously all over the lobby, shed enough nervous hair to stuff a pillow, and is up-to-date on his vaccinations. We had a wellness blood screen done as he is going in two weeks to have a thorough dental cleaning; I expect he'll lose a tooth or three. I am looking forward to better breath.

Sadly, we did not stop at any of the magic food windows on our way home. Lanie, my darling little trash disposal, needs to lose about five pounds. Ah, well. Longer walks for all of us!

I Think She's Trying to Tell Us Something

2011-04-02T18:35:00.000-04:00

Preemptive Disclaimer: She's not like this at every meal and we don't reward her obnoxious behavior under regular circumstances. On this particular evening, we had pizza delivered, and all of the dogs know that means they'll be getting bites of the crust. When The Dad lingered over his crust rather than turning it over immediately, Lanie began to worry she might not get the share to which she obviously felt entitled.

Always My First

2011-03-31T13:34:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I posted a pair of shots from Drive's early days with us, including the first picture I ever took of him, on his very first day. I've found myself looking at those pictures quite a bit, thinking about the day we met, and reflecting on the animal I brought home.

Drive will always be "my first greyhound." I've spoken so much about what he means to me now, the times when I find solace in his presence, the secret moments we share, the jokes we tell each other, the lift he gives my spirit every time he grins at me.

It took a while. Something that many owners of retired racers can confess to is how long it can take a greyhound to adjust to being in a home environment. Not true of all of them, certainly, but it was true of Drive. He was never in a foster home, so my solitary front step was the first one he ever saw and it terrified him.

He was cautious and reserved around us for months, and he was insane when left alone. Separation anxiety. In many of my pictures you can see a windowsill that was gnawed off. It was done in terror the first time we left him alone in the house for a couple of hours. After that incident, we bought a crate, just like at the kennels, and shut him in when he had to be home alone. We had to wean him from it over the course of five or six months.

I see, in a picture from July of 2005, how thin and bedraggled he looked. It's clear to my "mommy vision," at least. As listed on Greyhound Data, his racing weight was around 78 pounds. He weighed less than that when he came home to me. His coat was rubbed off in places and he had hot spots that tortured him. I have more than a few pictures of him with large naked patches on his sides where he'd chewed his hair off.

I don't know what Drive's life was like before he came to me. I don't want to know; it's behind him forever. As of April 9, he will have been my dog, my gift to myself, for 6 years. What's the right way to celebrate that? What's the right way to tell someone "Thank you for saving me a hundred times just by being there?"

As much as I joke about it being "his job," I never forget that he is Dog. It's not his job. It's his nature. It's his purpose. It's his meaning.

When We Were (Relatively) Young

2011-03-30T10:18:00.000-04:00

2005, First Day Home

July 2005

Checking on the Progress of Spring

2011-03-23T08:54:00.000-04:00

(Note: It snowed an inch and a half the next day; survey results declared invalid.)

They're Buddies! Right?!

2011-03-19T08:29:00.000-04:00

"Ugh. Is he still there?"

When we adopted Drive almost six years ago, it wasn't our plan to rush out and get him a "friend" or companion pet or start a menagerie. The whole plan was to get a friend for me, and that worked out in spades.

But it was only about seven months after that when someone posted Lanie's picture on a website and I said, out loud and without knowing why, "I need that dog."

I still don't know why. I can tell you what I saw in the picture and how it moved me, but it was a picture of her after she'd been rescued and freshly groomed. It was all in her expression. Something about her. Who knows?

When we brought her home -- oh, there's a story -- I knew there would be an adjustment period. I figured the dogs would take a couple weeks to get to know each other and then they'd settled down and start being My Dogs as a team. Together, working to be cute and keep me smiling.

I hadn't counted on Lanie being more insane than I am by orders of magnitude. I hadn't counted on Drive being more interested in me, his new Mother-Goddess, than in any old mere dog. I could not have foreseen that not one damn thing Lanie did in her first couple of years with us was cute or that she would remain determined not to attach. Yes sir, I recognize abandonment issues when I see them.

Now? Last week I heard Lanie give the almighty "Greyhound Scream of Death" no less than eight times. (Google it, if you're unfamiliar with the term. It's a riot.) And every time I would turn around or streak into the room where she was and find some scene of carnage and injury.

Like this:

So when people see cute pictures of the dogs snuggling and ask about them, I just have to laugh. "How long did it take? Oh, a while." A while, give or take about four years, before they'd share a piece of furniture. ;)

Hello and welcome to any new friends that have found us through the blog hop!

Why isn't my neck longer?!

2011-03-08T20:33:00.000-05:00

This is the face of a dog trying to use The Force to levitate a dropped french fry into his mouth.

His desperation did not go unanswered, although it was his teen-aged human who took pity on him and came to his aid. He remains unable to bring food to his mouth using only his mind.

For this, we are all grateful.

The Hills Have... A Snout?

2011-03-02T08:46:00.000-05:00

Chicken Wings

2011-02-28T20:57:00.000-05:00

Maybe because of my sore back, I've been overly concerned with finding a comfortable position lately. Sitting, standing, lying: all I can think about is the alignment of my spine. I'm afraid of angering the Gods of Sciatica.

So when I walked by our geriatric old man Bullie and saw this, I had to resist the urge to rearrange him. That just can't be comfy!

On the other hand, he seemed to be enjoying the sun on his bum.

Where Have I Been?

2011-02-26T08:25:00.000-05:00

In bed, mostly.

I'm one of the millions of lucky folks on Earth with a bad back. It's been more than a year since it sent me to bed for days, so perhaps I was getting a little cocky. I'm feeling better and I'll soon be finished with the steroids that are helping things settle.

In the meantime, I've been clinging to my nurses for dear life, petting them and kissing them and using them to keep myself zen, because I am not suited for steroids. Holding tight to Lanie and Drive is what's keeping the rest of the family safe from my 'roid rage. ;)

I'd like to thank everyone for the kind and heartfelt wishes on my last post about Bullie. He's still hanging in there. The decline has slowed for a bit and we're taking the opportunity to spoil him crazy.

We're joining in the Blog Hop today after an extended absence. If you're a new friend, please say hello!

My Gentleman Bulldozer

2011-02-10T10:09:00.000-05:00

This is Bullie.

Did I ever tell you how he came to be in our lives? An accident, really. A misunderstanding. He was rescued from isolation and loneliness after his owner was suddenly tragically unable to care for him, but his age at the time made the rescue hesitant to put him in a kennel. They put out a call for a soft foster bed for him.

I was close and I'm a sucker. Knowing nothing else about him and secure in my belief that I was going to give an old dog a bed for a couple weeks, I went and picked him up.

My understanding was faulty. My ability to somehow not love a dog is compromised. It didn't take long before we signed the papers and made him ours. After all, we reasoned, he's old. He's too old to get bounced around. He's not showy. He's shy. He'd be overlooked, we worried. He was almost 9 at the time. He's 12 and half now.

We tried giving him regular dog beds, but he prefers this grody pile of blankets, which he digs and kicks and arranges just so before throwing himself down. He's too unsteady now to fluff his own bed, so he'll come get one of us to help now.

He walks down the hallway and peeks into the rooms, looking for a person. When he finds me, he just tilts his head and stares. "I need help with something," he says patiently with his wide, placid brown eyes. "I'll wait here until you figure it out."

He doesn't stand up much any more. I rub him all over, every day, looking for sores or pressure points that might turn into sores. He's a giant dog, almost 30 inches at his shoulder, and now he's thin and frail. It's terrifying to watch him move sometimes. He's like an old man on stilts.

The past couple days have been rough ones for him. He doesn't get up to greet people anymore, though he lifts his head and soaks up whatever attention he gets. He can't move his bowels without falling over, so we've had to devise a sling to help him. His pain medications have been slightly increased and I'm confident he's not in pain.

What do we do? I've held beloved companions in my arms before, as they were released from life. The difference in those scenarios was that there was simply no question. The animals let me know in no uncertain terms: This is the time for me to leave. Bullie isn't being so considerate. The end will come down to a judgment call and I don't feel I am worthy to judge. I'm too selfish.

I want to spare my beautiful old man any more pain. I don't want him to fall and break a leg and end that way. I don't want him scared, I don't want him sad.

But I don't want him to go.

Rember This Color?

2011-02-09T11:40:00.000-05:00

Green?

Wordlessly Waiting

2011-02-02T15:00:00.000-05:00

My Little Tiger

2011-01-31T11:06:00.000-05:00

Lanie's colors stand out so much more brilliantly in the winter.

How've You Been?

2011-01-29T10:12:00.000-05:00

I chose this picture carefully to illustrate how comfy and cozy everyone is this winter. This picture also symbolizes that I feel kicked in the head a lot lately.

Drive has been working overtime in his position as my personal mental health practitioner. He's sticking closer than usual, poking my hand to be petted more often, and has reduced the amount of time he spends lying on my bed and crying because he isn't being hand-fed.

I've wondered if the dogs get affected by these winter blahs. They seem a little needier, but they also seem a little more responsive to my own increased need for shoring up.

This week, I have been extra grateful for my dogs. This week they held me up again.

Join us on the Pet Blog Hop! If this is your first time here, I hope you'll poke around and find the funny stuff. ;)

Fuzzy Wuzzy

2011-01-21T09:49:00.000-05:00

Lanie is so plush. I stroke this neck for hours a day, whenever I have a hand free, since she's always so close to me. I think she keeps my blood pressure at safe levels.

However, she's also the dog most likely to raise it.

Yes, she does have a fantastic overbite.

Wordless

2011-01-19T12:10:00.000-05:00

Pillows

2011-01-18T16:59:00.000-05:00

My last post may have inadvertently given the impression that Drive is outdoorsy and athletic. Here is the truth. That boy loves his pillows as much as he loves his kibble.

Most times, my husband and I sleep in the bed by ourselves, although once in a while exceptions are made. I'm too light a sleeper to tolerate the constant sleep-racing and vocal dreams all of our dogs seem to indulge in.

So the dogs sleep in the living room, perhaps 15 feet from the bedroom. (Small house, I've told you.) And in the morning when the baby gate is released after everyone has had a morning pee, Drive and Lanie streak for the bed. Most mornings, Drive gets there before I'm ready to make it.

As his reward, I don't move him.

In spite of my good intentions to post more frequently, it was a busy, fretful weekend at our house. Lanie was in fine shape Friday morning, and by Friday evening it was apparent she was quite ill. I will spare you the details, but we're still cleaning the living room rug. We watched her all weekend and thought frantically about what she could have gotten into. She's quite the counter surfer and trash picker. In the end, she's now pooping normally and hasn't projectile vomited in a day so we're calling her "all better!" and assuming the culprit was an apple core -- the only thing I can imagine she got into.

Snow, Of Course

2011-01-16T19:38:00.000-05:00

He likes to run back and forth in a tight circuit until he's cleared a place to take care of business.

It's not the highest-quality shot I've ever taken, but there are a couple things I love about this picture. For one, it shows you how much snow we got in the blizzard that recently crawled up the Northeast. And for two, it shows off Drive's "special" smile, his adorable hillbilly teefs.

Cozy Thoughts

2011-01-12T13:08:00.000-05:00

I apologize for the giant pause between posts. Life keeps happening to me and I've been laying low to avoid getting to stressed. I will try to be more punctual.

Hope you're staying warm!

Wordless and Dreamy

2010-12-29T09:19:00.001-05:00

Here Lie A Thousand Kisses

2010-12-27T12:42:00.000-05:00

And here is where I'll place a thousand more.

A Holiday Greeting

2010-12-25T00:36:00.001-05:00

Is it on me?

Crustacean Threat? Where?

2010-12-11T12:58:00.000-05:00

Here is our guard dog Drive, alert and keeping an eye out for any intruders or threats!
None shall pass!
Okay, seriously? Do not ever expect a greyhound to guard anything other than a couch or a food bowl. You may be disappointed.

We're joining the blog hop again this week!

A Meaningful Look

2010-12-09T12:22:00.001-05:00

This is the kind of expression that gets him squealed at and stuffed with cookies. He's not a brave dog or a smart dog or a young dog or even a particularly playful dog. But he's my best friend and my hero and when he makes faces like this I fall in love all over again.

It was this kind of woobie face that he made on the day we met, and then he gave exactly one uncertain wag of his tail as he looked nervously away. "Hi," his face said. "I don't know why I'm in here."

As it turns out, he was there because we needed each other.

Niblets

2010-12-08T11:49:00.001-05:00

It's Too Early to Blog Hop

2010-12-04T09:29:00.000-05:00

"But I s'pose I'd get up if there were donuts."
Welcome to our blog! We'll be right there.
Really.

Someone Has a Cold Nose

2010-12-01T09:53:00.000-05:00

He Cares So Much

2010-11-27T21:30:00.000-05:00

The intense love and focus evidenced in that shining eye are directed at the sandwich I am holding just out of reach.

And the Blog Hop, which I keep missing because November is just brutally busy:

Actually, there's no "may be" about it.

2010-11-26T10:39:00.000-05:00

"Well, you can ask. But if you want Santa to bring you more trains, you need to start behaving nicely right now. Because frankly, my girl... You may be on the Naughty List."

Okay, so she's not what you'd call a "good" dog. But she's perfect anyway.

Cheek to Cheek

2010-11-24T12:41:00.001-05:00

I Wasn't Wrong, Either.

2010-11-23T14:13:00.000-05:00

It was that overbite, I think. When her hard luck abandonment story was posted on a forum and I clicked the link, prepared to be sad and regretful on her behalf, I saw those buck teeth.

And I knew we belonged together.

Bulldozer

2010-11-19T08:30:00.000-05:00

Well of course I kissed that nose. Wouldn't you?

Words on Wednesday

2010-11-17T08:28:00.001-05:00

On Patrol

I've mentioned before that Drive is my unofficial therapy dog and he's been working overtime for a couple of weeks now. I hope you'll forgive our minor unplanned hiatus. I've been spending a lot of time with my head pressed close to his and my arms around his neck. His velvet ears have soaked up so much of my misery and pain and his sweet brown eyes have calmed my nerves more times than I can count now.

Sometimes this happens, and I am grateful for the love and understanding that beams at me like sunlight determined to burn through closed curtains.

I have a different blog for the self-absorbed prattling about my brain and its various misfires, so I don't like to go into detail here. This one here though, while giving every appearance of being just cute pictures of my dogs, is a secret tribute to my heroes.

See, I was down in that well again.

And again, knowing what dogs are meant to do and knowing that Dog and Man are meant to live together this way, Drive and Lanie helped pull me out.

A Boy and his Egg Carton

2010-11-03T08:44:00.001-04:00

"Can I take a picture of your dog?"

2010-11-01T19:49:00.000-04:00

In the course of trick-or-treating in my hometown Saturday night, I was fortunate enough to meet these three lovely ladies. After sitting prettily for a picture or five, there was a torrid make-out session. Fortunately, their owner -- a complete stranger to me -- seemed to understand that he was dealing with a True Dog Lover. It didn't seem strange to him at all that I would sit on his steps and have a flirty conversation with his dogs.

Fly! Be Free!

2010-10-29T19:47:00.000-04:00

We have three greyhounds. I can only assume that Lanie, our little brindle female, feels that is one too many. She loves to chew feverishly on Drive's leash, but only while he is attached to it. It doesn't interest her on its own. I sincerely believe she is trying to cut him loose.

Obviously Drive feels it is beneath his dignity to even acknowledge the antics of his sanity-challenged sister.

We're in the Blog Hop again this week. Thanks for stopping by! We love meeting new friends.

Thank Dog it's Friday

2010-10-29T09:11:00.000-04:00

Friday Fact: Half a second before this shot, he looked majestic and noble, and then some blue jays got into a fight nearby, startling us both. I wasn't intentionally going for this artistic slant. Oh, well.

Actual Fact: Drive is older than he looks or acts, at a grand ten years of age. He was whelped July 3, 2000.