Aging ain't for sissies. Neither is chronic pain.

Posts tagged ‘Greyhounds’

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

It snowed again.  It’s cold again.  It’s windy yet again.  All in all, a beautiful day.

I love how big and full our Leyland cypress trees are

I was able to capture some photos of the dogs this morning.  Finn wasn’t quite as cooperative as the others so I don’t have one of him today.

I told Flurry I was going to put her mug all over the internet but she didn't seem to care

 

Razz, my beautiful brown-eyed boy

 

My velcro dog - he loves his mama

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Dogs Have Quirks Too

Our greyhound Perry has some, shall we say, odd quirks.  One of them is his need to lead me around while I vacuum.  Apparently Perry feels I am not capable of such a menial task and that I require guidance and supervision, as you can see in these photos. You gotta love a dog that knows his human so well.

Dog Daze

We have four dogs.  They own us lock, stock and dog biscuits.  Sadly we lost our 14 and a half year old greyhound Patti on November 6th.  Our family now consists of two whippets and two retired racing greyhounds.

Patti

Finn, our oldest whippet, is very smart.  He watches TV like a little man.  When he watches Animal Planet the world around him disappears.  It’s quite comical actually.  On the downside, much to my chagrin, he has this wonderfully endearing habit of pooping at the bottom of the dog ramp which forces me to go out and clean it up before the other dogs walk in it.  Ask me how many times I’ve done this.

Finn

 

There is Flurry, our other whippet who has an “up yours” look on her face pretty much 24/7.  She loves to eat, sleep and cuss us out in ways which only dogs can do.  She is bossy but cute.  She is bitchy but lovable.  What can I say?  She is simply…Flurry.

Flurry

 

Razz is our oldest retired racing greyhound.  We call him Stealth because he is the sneakiest dog we’ve ever met.  He’s a big dog but quiet as a church mouse. Razz has SHS…Selective Hearing Syndrome.  He only hears what he wants to.

Razz

 

And then there is our 6 year old greyhound Perry.  Like Razz, Perry was one of our foster dogs.  As it is with many greyhound people we failed fostering 101.  We have sucker written across our respective foreheads.

Perry

 

Perry is like a puppy on speed.  Some days it’s all I can do to not to ship him off to military school.  But he’s cute and lovable and I wouldn’t trade him for all the hair removal cream in the world.

Perry has a stuffed football that he carries everywhere.  We call it his baby.  When he greets us he has baby in his mouth.  When he barks he has baby in his mouth.  (I have no clue how he does this.)  When he pees he has baby in his mouth.  God forbid I should wash his baby.  You’d think it was the beginning of the Apocalypse.

Perry pulls on my clothes when I’m vacuuming.  Tug, tug, tug.  “Stop it you brat!”  Tug, tug, tug.  “Ouch, you’re pinching me!”  Tug, tug, tug.  Life is one big game for Perry. 

When we got married and adopted our first greyhound I was younger, had more energy and fewer wrinkles.  Before we moved to a more rural area we used to walk the dogs with gusto twice a day.  Now my gusto is gimpy and they’re lucky if we go as far as the mailbox.  We have a big yard for them to play in so they get plenty of exercise.  Better them than me.

I need more naps now.  Greyhounds are well known for sleeping long hours (except for Perry.)  I always have napping buddies when I want to look at the back of my eyelids.

They like treats, I like treats.  When I was younger I had no problem with my weight.  I could eat anything.  How times change.  My dogs are thin and trim (Flurry is a bit of a pudge) but now it would take an act of Congress for me to get the weight off and actually keep it off.

Somebody once said that one reason a dog can be such a comfort when you’re feeling blue is because they don’t try to find out why.  When I’m feeling particularly blue my dogs seem to know I need them near me.   Snuggling up to my dogs is like balm on an open wound.  (Unless they have gas; then it’s not quite so appealing.)

I will leave this ode to my wonderful dogs with a quote from George G. Vest: 

“The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is his dog.  He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounter with the roughness of the world. When all other friends desert, he remains.”

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