Greyhound Blog

Summer Time & the Living is Easy

2008-06-29T11:45:00.002-06:00

Greyhound Gathering - Kanab is over for 2008. Do check out the fun we had with the videos created by Dan King, one of the Guests. Dates for 2009 will most likely be the weekend after Mother's Day, but a definite date will be determined in December.

Hot is the operative word this summer. The hounds - Clyde and Power, and Italian Greyhound, Isabelle, plus our foster, Kenzie, make sure I'm up early, so we can hike during the morning cool. There are two adolescent coyotes that stalk and talk at us during our morning hikes down Pugh Canyon. They are brazen, being very clear in their yelps that we are infringing on their territory.

We just spent 9 days in Las Vegas dogsitting Smiles and Allie. We were slugs. Sun, books, movies, good Trader Joe's food, fresh tomatoes. It was most excellent.

So we're home, in lovely Kanab, and catching up on work. Do check out our auction, and contest and specials. We work - kind of - hard to bring that to you :)

And if you're thinking about a life change - think about moving to Kanab. This lovely house, right next to Greyhound Gang, is available.

What Am I Doing?

2008-02-10T22:49:00.002-07:00

Welcome.
Give me a little time here to figure this blog thing out. How much do I say? How little do I say. I often do I say? I always have a lot to say.

For now, over on the side there, are some things I've said. Well, actually, some things I've written. Most are reasonably entertaining. My brother said that, and he's not one to overstate.

My Journey or The Life You Save is about the cross-country trip I took in 1993. I ditched my position, power and pay, and traveled the country with my greyhound, Slim, and cockatiel, Hoser, looking for a better way to live. I found it in Kanab, Utah and founded Greyhound Gang.

Hound Stories (and the individual name labels) are stories I wrote for Greyt Angel donors to help raise funds to rescue more hounds. For a monthly donation, I'd send them a hound story with some pictures. These were hounds that usually stuck around with me a bit longer before I found them the perfect home. I'll be editing these, and putting up new ones at some point. I miss them all.

Thanks for visiting. More will follow.

Annie Bananie

2006-01-01T10:13:00.000-07:00

Annie Banannie

I've never said a nice thing about little dogs. Or white dogs. This is the story of a little white dog.

Annie, an Italian Greyhound (we think), came to the Gang with Big Red, a red fawn greyhound, from Salt Lake City. Their owner had brought them to 2nd Chance Greyhounds in SLC, as he didn't want them anymore.
They were in very poor health, and we thought about 11 years old. 2nd Chance did all the medical work, (over $1000) and the Gang took them in to find them a home. We didn't know much about their past, but our assumption was that they needed to go to a home together, since it appeared they had been together for a long time. Finding an adopter to take two older dogs is always a bit problematic. Annie was also very shy, and would hide under furniture when strangers came around. She hated to be picked up, and didn't appear to know what giving or receiving affection was all about.

One of my adopters had a cousin who was willing to take both dogs. I brought them to her home, with medical instructions, free glucosamine, shark cartilage and the promise that we would stay in touch. I hadn't met the woman, and had just been going on the word of my good adopters, and an extended phone conversation I had with her. Unfortunately, I didn't like her when I met her, but I was too chicken to not give her the dogs. Plus I didn't think I would find someone who would take two old dogs (both not beauties) with medical needs. I tried to stay in touch, using my adopters to give me updates too, but this woman was not very easy to deal with. One year later she called me to return the dogs as she was moving in 4 days. Annie and Red came back to me in even worse medical condition from the year before. Annie had tumors all over her body, toe nails that curled under and was 21 pounds. IGs usually weigh about 12.

And so it began, the second rehabilitation of Annie and Red. Red got well quickly with Adequan and acupuncture, and went into a loving greyhound home in SLC. Annie had the tumors removed, the nails clipped, and went on a strick 10 kibble, twice a day diet. She hated it. She is a very food oriented girl, probably from not having very many other pleasures in her life. When I am in the kitchen, which is usually only to make food for the dogs, Annie starts her food dance. Whirling and twirling, and jumping at the other dog's mouths, barking in that shrill little dog bark - all in anticipation of the food she is going to get. I usually throw a pot down just to shut her up.

To also help take the weight off, I took her for walks and runs every day with the other dogs. I have a safe place where I walk my dogs, off leash. If any other people pull up in a car with their dogs, I quickly put leashes on all my guys - not that they would hurt other dogs individually, but packs running towards a new dog can always be a potential for problems.

One day, about two weeks into Annie's rehab program, I'm walking everyone, and a car pulls up. So I quickly put leashes on Marm, Regis, and a few others. Winslow and Beauty are fine in greeting new dogs, and I didn't even think about Annie being a problem. The next thing I know is that she is tearing off like a banshee after a big black dog. Growling and yipping and snapping at his heels as he runs away from this terror in white. I'm screaming her name, sure that I will have a dead dog on my hands as soon as the big black dog realizes what is going on. And then he stops and turns. And Annie, in sheer terror of being confronted, puts on the brakes, tries to backpedal, and trips over her coat, and does a backward somersault - just as I'm arriving on the scene, many greyhounds in tow. The black dog's owner and I couldn't stop laughing.

We now let all the other dogs greet newcomers, and the terror is usually in my arms making all kinds of bizarre noises about what she's going to do if she gets her mouth on that other dog. She is such a crack up.

I've never owned a small dog, so I had to do lots of research on the internet to find out about food, and clothing, and medical and personality. When she came to me so fat, I really didn't know if she was part Jack Russell and IG, or what. I was hoping no terrorist was in her, but sometimes her behaviors - like the attack on other breeds of dogs - make me think she is part JRT. Her body is more coarse looking then the little petite IGs I see in people's arms and she is as svelt as she can get, (which is about 12 - 15 pounds depending on how much food she can steal from the other dogs when I'm not looking). Most of her behaviors though, appear to be pure IG. Not housebroken when I got her, she sleeps curled under the covers every night, needs a coat all the time, (that girl has a bigger wardrobe than any of my greyhounds) and has a leaping ability that all point to IG. I've found that puppy mills breed many of these, because they are cute and little. But then people get them, and can't housebreak them, or they break legs or have other medical issues, and so the lucky ones are turned into rescue groups.

I'm pretty sure the Gang will always have a rescued little one from now on - thanks to the Annie Bananie.

Winslow

2004-01-01T08:22:00.000-07:00

My Winslow Man

I come home down my long, pebble lined driveway and look to the right where the Gang's Guest House is. On the Guest House porch is Winslow's personal futon. From that vantage point he'd watch the world and wait for me to come home. Unfolding that big, gorgeous body of his, loping over to the car, tail wagging, to plop himself right down on another dog bed. Waiting for me to give him his due as the man of the place. Winslow is one of those guys who isn't too bad on the eyes, and loves his comfy furniture. He was found wandering the streets of Colorado, and stumbled his way to the Gang.

I don't even remember the year he came to me. I think he was four or five. Found wandering the streets by the Humane Society in CO, Abby Christman found him there.
Abby and I had established an underground railroad of sorts. Colorado State University was killing greyhounds – about 900 a year, 400 of them being used by third year vet students for surgery practice, and then terminated. The others just terminated because they had too many. I had been at CSU for almost two weeks for spinal surgery treatment of my Slim and had found out, first hand, about this. Abby worked for CSU. We started talking, and we just knew we had to do something. So we established the Greyhound Underground Railroad. She would get vet students to say they were adopting a greyhound, as this was the only way to get them out. Then I'd take them, and find them real, forever homes.

Anyhow, I'm getting a bit off track, but because of the relationship that Abby and I established during that time she called to tell me about Winslow, and how I needed to take him. He was staying at her home, but she had 4 dogs, and felt he'd do better coming to me. So we arranged a trip for him from CO to my home, and he arrived.

A big, striking boy, he fit right in with all the crazy goings on here in the early days. Dogs coming and going. Being washed, trained, vetted, socialized – he watched it all from a convenient soft place. I called him my banana brindle, my butterscotch brindle boy. Abby had been calling him Kermit, which he didn't respond to. So I started asking him what he would like to be called. I called on his tattoos and found out that he was called Ben G Triumph. But he showed no interest in any of those names. I'd run through the gambit of letters and sounds trying to get a reaction from him, but I could never get one. He was so laid back that he wasn't very expressive about much.

One day I was up at Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, it was at least a week since he'd been with me, and he still hadn't decided on a name. I'd always ask people what they thought – and one woman looked at Winslow, had a conversation with him and said he wanted to be called Sir Winston. Well, I don't like cigarettes at all, and that's all I could think of when the word Winston came up – but I started to call him Winslow, and he liked that. So Winslow it became.

He never showed me very much affection, or asked for much attention. He never growled at any dog. He always waited his turn. He suffered being stepped on, and eating last and not getting as many snuggles as the more needy dogs. He never asked for much of anything. And Winslow just sort of stayed. Almost the middle child syndrome – fitting in, not raising a ruckus, just going with the flow, sometimes invisible.

And then he just never left. I tried to find him a home, but he decided to pee blood on the ride there, and so never made it anywhere but my home. Blending into the furniture and my life. Taking over the futon, or the overstuffed chair, or waiting in the car for his walk. And he did this all with infinite patience.

Laconic and amiable, Winslow was the inspiration for Fred in Greyhound Gang Illustrated – Volume I. You ask him to do something, and he does it. No complaints, no back talk, no problem. Nothing ever fazes him. The dogs stepping on him, the waiting for his turn, the endless parade. And all the other dogs liked him. They wanted to hang with him. They knew he was cool, and no threat.

Smiles & Winslow

Regis, Winslow & Buster

Winslow & Kenya

Winslow dressed for Western Legends.

His favorite foods were pizza and popcorn. He has been known to come out of a deep sleep, which is where he spends the majority of this time, if he smells either. But he never begs. He's too polite for that. He just gets in the sphinx position near you, and waits. He's so good at waiting. He'll just wait forever. No whining, no barking, no complaining. He's content to get whatever it is he's going to get.

This photo was for a photo contest, and he was an ice cream man that day. I think because you can't smell it he never knew when I was eating it in the house.

Guest House.
He was the official greeter. He'd hang outside the Guest House, just waiting for Guests to come and pet him and watch the sunset, or sunrise. He wasn't particular. He would often scratch at the Guest House door, usually at 6 am to tell the guests it was time to start their day...by petting him. And pet him they did. And he was always their favorite.

Bow. Somewhere he learned how to take a bow. And he's not above using it when pizza and popcorn are available.
Loves the car.
Goes right in. Lays down. And doesn't move. Particularly partial to vans. If any door is open, he'll just get in and usually won't go out until we've had that ride. I've had to drive up and down the driveway some days just to make him think we went for a ride.

Walks.
He couldn't ever walk next to me. He had to be out there, somewhere in the front. He needed that sense of freedom. He seldom really ran, just trotted most of the time. But never next to me. And we had many discussions about that. And many leash walks. And it wasn't until I lost him for 2 hours during one of our walks, and returned stressed out to the car to find him at the car patiently waiting for me, that the turning point happened. At that moment I realized that he was not going to leave me, and he would be OK. And from that point on he stayed in my sight, not next to me, of course, but if I yelled wait, he would stop, wait until I got closer, and then head out on his way. And he loved his freedom walks.

Medical. When Winslow first came to the Gang, he would go outside and pee. And pee. And Pee. I had never seen a dog pee for so long at one time. I took him to one vet. Diagnosis – Kidney Failure. Another vet – Nothing wrong with him. Another vet – Bladder Infection. So we went through a few runarounds trying to help him. His specific gravity was pretty low, so he wasn't concentrating his urine, and he drank a lot of water. So he loved that dog door. But other than the peeing nothing else seemed untoward.

Then something happened. What we'll never really know. Suffice it to say, that $4000 later, traditional vets gave him back, saying idiopathic cystitis and said “Just love him while you can.” That was over 3 years ago, thanks to the expertise and dedication of Dr. Kim Henneman, an excellent holistic vet. And most days he feels just fine, and most of the time the Gang house is decorated in pretty pink and blue incontinence pads.
A small decorating price to pay for having this sweet boy in our lives.

And then a few months ago, he lost his ability to walk on his back legs. I found him down in the middle of driveway. With some holistic treatments, he turned right around. But there was something wrong with his right side. After consulting with four vets, it appeared he had some major scar tissue in his groin area that was causing him pain, and to walk funny. It also appeared that he had something neurological going on. But something undetermined.
And then a month later he lost his back end ability again. With holistic care he was up and walking within 24 hours. And then a week later, he lost it again. And then a few days later he lost it again. The progression was obvious.
Our guess is blood clots, not neurological. But Winslow, when he's not sleeping, is a guy that likes to hike. And he couldn't hike any more in this world.

And I had a piece of pizza last night, and no one to eat my crust. And all the incontinence pads have been washed, and the house is empty. No one is outside surveying the realm, no one comes running to meet my car, no one jumps into the car and settles in with his head for me to pet as I drive. No soft fur to sink my forehead into. No beautiful big boy to tell him I love him. No Winslow. No Winslow.

Hound Stories - Marmalade

2002-01-01T15:27:00.000-07:00

Serendipitous. That's my relationship with Marmalade. In 1999, Jimmy and Becky Crowder stayed at the Gang's Guest House. They owned greyhounds, and were coming to volunteer with Best Friends Animal Sanctuary. From the heart of the south, their hearts are big. They are always looking for ways to make people and dogs' lives better. They also volunteer at local greyhound adoption facilities. One of these facilities, the Greater Raleigh Greyhound Rescue in Virginia, is housed at a vet office. There, a little girl named Marm stole their heart. They would always take her for a walk whenever they visited. They had three greyhounds of their own, and no room for an alpha girl, and their hearts sank every time they went to that facility and Marm was still kenneled there.

Marm had been with the adoption facility for three years. She was deemed a hard adoption. She'd had a chance at a couple of homes, but neither one could deal with her abundance of energy, and her desire to not be left alone.

She started her adoption journey from the Daytona Beach track in January of 1998. She was two years old, and full of herself. This gorgeous white, brindled patched, ticked girl with the little face, and the tight body. She's the Nadia Comenici of the greyhound world.
Her first family tried to deal with her separation anxieties for a few months, but just couldn't so they returned her. Her second family had a greyhound, but Marm wanted to be in charge, and the other greyhound was unhappy with that.
When Marm came back to the kennel she went into a severe funk. Knowing that she had failed, feeling that she was not loved enough. Because there is nothing that Marmalade wants more than to be accepted and loved for herself. She will do just about anything to please you. The adoption kennel wanted to be so sure with her next home, to not have her returned a third time, that the home they were looking for just never materialized.

That's when in 2001, Becky and Jimmy stepped in, and asked to have her shipped to me. All parties agreed it was a good idea, and Marm made the plane flight out to Las Vegas, NV from Virginia, and is now awaiting her forever home at the Gang's home.

Marmalade's View - morning
I don't know what is happening to me. But as long as I'm in my crate I'm OK. But this muzzle - I don't need that - it's coming off NOW!
I got paid the most attention I've been paid in a long long time. I was petted and fetted, and made a fuss over, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I heard something about a trip and an airplane, and Utah - but I haven't a clue what that is all about.
They know I don't like change, but it sure smells like change is in the air. The humans are emitting new odors. Odors of excitement, some fear, some sadness. Is this all over me? What did I do wrong?? I've tried to be a good girl. I try to do what they want of me.

They walked me out of the animal place. I like leaving there, as it usually means a romp in the park. But there are so many people, I was scared. I smelled Becky and Jimmy, and maybe they are here to take me for a walk?! They usually take me for a walk - oh boy - but why are all these other people here?
Oh, there's a big crate in a car. And they are telling me to get in it? Ok. Up I go. It's a bit smaller than what I'm used to, but if this is what they want from me, I want to make these humans happy.

We've been in the car for quite a while. This is longer than I've ever been in a car.
Oh, we're slowing down now. The car is opening. I'm being taken out of the crate. This is a strange place. There are strange odors. I don't like this. This makes me very nervous. I'll just plaster myself against Becky's legs. They are taking the crate out, and telling me not to worry, and we're all going into another building.

Back into the crate for me. Can't these humans make up their minds? I'm happy to just stay in the crate. I know what crates look and feel like. They are safe, and they are mine.
People are crowding around the crate. They are using that goodbye word. They are crying. Why so sad? I'm Ok in my crate. WHOA - maybe I'm not. The crate is being carried, this is not fun - I don't like this. What is going on? Where am I going?
The crate feels like it's being moved now, but there are no people. The scenery is moving around me, but no one is carrying me. This is not normal. WHOA, this is a big hole that I'm going into. Just what is going on here? Is this Utah?
It's dark in here, and a bit cold too. I think I'll just sleep. There are no humans around to bother me.
Human views - Virginia - last afternoon
It's bittersweet getting Marm ready for her trip to Utah. We love her dearly, and don't want to let her go, but feel we have failed her by not finding her a home here.
Having been returned twice, and being a sensitive girl, we didn't want to place her in a home from which she might be returned yet again. So we kept her here. She's been living in a kennel at the vet's office, which also does greyhound adoptions, for the past three years. We thought she was happy, but as time went by we realized that she could be happier.
That's when the Crowders gave Marm the opportunity to try a new life with the Greyhound Gang in Utah.

So we all gave her a send off, with many kisses, a new collar and leash, positive thoughts and many tears. Goodbyes are always sweet and sorrowful. We knew she was nervous, and we were too, but also knew that once the trip was over, she'd be happy with 2.5 acres to run on and the Greyhound Gang to give her personal attention.
We drove her to the airport, hoping we were sending her to a life that she would love.

Human views - Vegas - midnight
We were so excited to pick up Marm, and hoped that she would like her new life, and behave with all the other dogs at the Gang. We got there an hour early, as we didn't want her to sit in her crate any longer than necessary. We were told that the dogs don't get to the crate facility until at least an hour after the plane has landed. So we drove around Vegas, just killing time, and getting more nervous.
We got back to the place, and there was our crate, and our dog. We took her out immediately, and took her for a walk. She was very well behaved on leash, and very interested in her surroundings. We broke down the crate, and let her just ride in the car with us, her first test that she passed with flying colors.

At midnight, we brought her to another home in Vegas, Janice Ziola, who also rescues greyhounds. She was going to spend the night and next morning there, and after Claudia did her Meet & Greet that next day, she'd be heading home to Utah in the afternoon. Janice was going to be home, and could watch her and her interactions with the other greyhounds for that time frame.
Marm handled herself very well, and enjoyed meeting the other greyhounds and hanging out. After the initial greetings, Janice didn't even use the muzzle on her. When Claudia picked her up the next day, she was ready to get back in the car and continue her adventure - this time in Utah!

Where am I?
My heart went out to Marm. She sent out so many insecure vibes when she first came here.
First there was the growling. Never at me, just at the other dogs. "Don't come near me, don't try to interact with me, keep your distance", was a constant growl refrain from her. She'd lived in a crate at the vet's kennel for three years, so not being in a crate was a huge change for her. But one I felt she'd like, and soon.
I had the muzzle on her the first few days, until I realized that she never snapped, she just made noise. And an ugly, growly noise it was. Her whole lip curled back, and her beautiful little white teeth gleamed. The other dogs gave her a wide berth. I spent a lot of time telling her that it was OK, and she could be nice to everyone, and that they weren't out to get her or her spot.

Then there was my use of voice. If I yelled at her - and I'm talking just a loud, meaningful "Marm", she went down. Plastered herself to the floor, looking up at me, asking me what she had done. It would force me to go down to her level, and assure her that she was loved. She needed that assurance many times daily. Initially she would get as still as a statue, not looking at me, not sure what was going to be her lot. I was a little worried, as her stillness could have resulted in harm to me, as I've seen insecure greyhounds just launch when they feel threatened. But then she would wiggle that body, and smile. Smile that ingratiating, full gleaming teeth, white smile. She knew she could use that when needed.

We dealt with her food desires, her "I'm going to starve if I don't go from bowl to bowl and eat everyone's food" behavior. Once she realized that the bowls were always full, she had no problem with other dogs eating in there. Unless it was new dog in the house. Then she had to monitor their initial eating habits, and I had to monitor her. She learned to lay and wait in the living room doorway until I gave her the command to go in and clean up whatever anyone else left.

Her insecurities those first weeks made my heart ache. She wanted so much to be loved, and for this to be her final home. When loving her, I had to let her know that she was here to find her forever home, but it wouldn't be with me because I had my girl already - Beauty. I knew it wasn't what she wanted to hear, but I knew she needed to hear it. I also knew that I needed to find someone that wanted her to be just their girl, and no one else's.

In those first few weeks Marm displayed some amazing traits. Her smarts - she listens quickly and correctly. I say something to her, and she does it. Her jumping abilities - she can twirl and jump and leap with the any of the Gilley Girls. She doesn't get herself in trouble when she's running; she never comes back with any marks on her. Her desire to do what you want - she really just wants to be loved, and my job is to teach her that she can be.

She doesn't believe it yet, but she will. That tight, white body with the soft hair, and all the freckles covering her. Her petite, freckle-covered face, that nudges you and snuggles you and smiles at you. She wants so much to be loved by someone, to find someone to call her own.

4.
Needy

She is so desperate to be loved. Just looks at you with these looks that compel you to throw your arms around her and tell her she is loved. Just pure hope and expectations, all the while thinking that it won't happen for her. When she greets me at the door, it's always like she can't believe I really did come back to her, and that I still love her. I feel like I've failed her because we have not found the right home for her yet. And she so wants to be in her forever home. And as you see here, on a bed of her own!

Affectionate

She just loves to have her tummy rubbed. If you get down on the floor with her, she'll just roll right over, and display that gorgeous, and getting a wee bit plump tummy, and you have no choice but to rub it, and keep rubbing it. She has a lot of thick, soft hair - the softest I've ever felt on a greyhound, so it's no hardship to love on her tummy just like she wants. She also gets the most comfortable in a dead cockroaching position - all legs splayed out in all directions - pure joy. And the looks of love she can give. So very expressive with her eyes, her tilt of her head, her looks straight at you. I've tried to capture that look on camera, but always seem to miss it. I guess it's a look meant not to be captured on film.

Active
This girl defines the word. She has so much energy, though she does know how to contain it. I think all the years in a crate just caused her to explode out and when she is free, she is free. Her most fun thing now is running up the red sand mounds I point out to her. She is so proud of herself when she reaches the top, and just surveys her realm. The realm of freedom. Of course, yesterday on her mad dash up the hill, she loses her collar at the top, and guess who had to climb up there and get it. Me and all the other dogs! We were exhausted. Even Annie, the little IG went up with us.
If Marm doesn't get a chance to do her free run during the day, then she takes herself outside and runs around the house with a stuffed toy in her mouth - so happy with herself, and her joy of life.

Smart
She just knows things, and thinks in advance and is always alert and looking. When Marm holds herself still, I know to look where she is looking, and I know I'll see something I wouldn't have seen if not for her keenness.
She also is so in tune with what you tell her, that she is very aware when her behavior is inappropriate, or not wanted. I only have to say her name a certain way, and she is all contrite and by my side. Like when she goes too far up the mountain, and I have to ask her to return.

Marmy, Swarmy - She's a really rare girl - beautiful, smart, silly, fun, affectionate - and we're waiting for that rare home that will have the honor of loving her.

Marmalade's a Nut

So here is Marm, soaking in the 55 degree weather out here in southern Utah. Not a care in the world, such a good girl, so obediant, so sweet......

And here's the living room floor. What is that on the floor? Are those little poops left as a surprise for me? On closer inspection, I see that they are NUTS. I have a bowl of them with a nutcracker sitting on that coffee table. Far corner - sorry for the picture, but sun was coming in, so it produced shadows, but I wanted set the scene of naughtiness.

Here's a close up of the nut. It's a walnut, and all the meat has been eaten, and the shell is left.

I leave the shell there, just so when Marm comes back in, she sees the result of her sneaky attack, and I can have a conversation with her about it. And what does she think of it? Absolutely nothing. She just lays down right next to the nut shells. Totally letting me know that all is OK with the world, and she's very glad I have those nuts out for when she is hungry.

Not giving those shells a thought, she's wondering more about what's going on outside. So I go back to work, leaving her to her shells.

And then I hear this noise. Loud noises, continual noises, and I run out to the living room, and Marm is happily and busily now sampling a hazelnut. I grab my camera and get blackmail pictures of her. She really has been practicing, as she deftly gets that nut open, and gets the meat out. She truly is a nut case!

Some times you feel like a nut.....

Walking with the Marm
Daily walks are some of what Marm lives for. (That and food!) The beginning of our walk takes us past some junk.

Here's Marm contemplating the pipes.

She just knows that rabbits are hiding inside. And she's trying to figure out her best plan of attack. "Do I put my nose in there, will my body fit,

I just know there are some little animals in there waiting for me to play with them."

Beauty has just told Marm that she is not sticking her head in those pipes, but Marm can if she wants to.

Marm is focused. She can be a very focused girl.

Now Marm thinks our walk has truly started, and there is Marm on top of that hill again.

She loves me to pretend I'm going to run up this hill, and then she motors to the top - Queen of the Hill, and surveys her realm.

Here she is starting down the hill. She comes down that hill, willy-nilly, and is always just so proud of herself and her stellar athletic abilities.

We've done the hill, and now it's time to do the wash. This is Marm heading into the wash with the rest of us.

Here's Marm running pell-mell ahead of us in the wash. That's her bum in the distance.

Here's Marm up out of the wash, while we are still trudging along inside it.

We'll just never keep up with the Marm girl. A bundle of energy, joy and love, she can just never get enough of her walks.

All animals except man know that the ultimate of life is to enjoy it - Samuel Butler

The Chair

There's something about this chair. And what it symbolizes in the world of greyhounds at my home. This is an oversized green chair in my bedroom bought at a clearance center. I've always loved oversized chairs, and never had one, and when I added on a bedroom, I had this bay window spot that was just begging for a big chair and ottoman to loll around in with a good book.

I have never sat in that chair. EVER. It's been three years.

Every night, Beauty follows me into the bedroom, and gets in her chair. There's never been any question of this. Her Chair, Her Sleeping Spot at night. Her Chair.
No one is in the bedroom during the day. The bedroom is where we go at night.

But lately, Marm has started to hang out in THE chair. First it started during the day. When I'd be looking for Marm, she'd usually be in the bedroom in that chair.

Marm really really likes that chair. But Beauty doesn't like that Marm really really likes that chair.

So now every night, I have to ask Marm to get out of the chair, so Beauty can sleep in it.

And Marm, because she is such a good girl, and listens to me so well, S-L-O-W-L-Y gets out of the chair, but not before she stretches and yawns and makes a really big deal about it. One week, this went on every single night. So one night I turned to Beauty and said - "Let's let Marm have the chair just one night. She really wants it, sweetie. You can sleep in my bed with me."

So I put Beauty in my bed, made her oh-so-comfy, and went to sleep...kind of. Within the first half hour, Beauty was off my bed, and pacing the bedroom. Looking at the other 4 dog beds, and then just staring at Marm. I'm a very light sleeper, and she made sure I was aware of every single stare. That went on ALL NIGHT LONG.

We were all glad when the new day arrived. That night about 6:30 pm I realized I had not seen Beauty in a while. I called her name, and she didn't come running. I went out and checked the Guest House thinking I may have closed her in there by mistake. I checked the car to make sure she hadn't stayed in the car. I walked around my 2.5 acres - but no Beauty. Panic started to set in. She's no spring chicken anymore, and who knows what kind of hurt she could be in. But before panic became full-blown, I walked into my bedroom. And there was Beauty in THE CHAIR.

There was NO WAY she was leaving that chair and not getting it to sleep in that night. Who knows how long she'd been in that chair during that afternoon making sure that Marm couldn't claim it. I stood there shaking my head and laughing. Ahhh, the things they tell you....my silly girls. Someday I will claim my chair back.

The Accident
This is Marm doing one of two things she does best. Relaxing fully and completely. I've never seen a greyhound cockroach as completely as she cockroachs. The other thing Marm does well is run. One of the reasons I have not found a home for her, is that this girl needs her exercise to be happy. And that exercise needs to be off leash. She is more like a regular dog than any other greyhound that has come through here. Taking any greyhound off leash is always playing roulette, however. Marm, in her over 2 years here, has never had one accident, one scratch from being off leash. She has always been very secure in where she runs, and how she runs. Until 2 weeks ago, right after the Gathering.

I hadn't been able to take the dogs for their daily runs for a week or so. They were chomping at the bit. It was Friday, and I had some people coming over to help me move yet more boxes, and only had 1/2 hour. I started to walk the dogs around the yard, but they ran right to the car, hopping and hoping and I just couldn't refuse them. I threw them in the car, and drove a couple of minutes away to a big barb wire fenced field of cows. We were having a nice walk right along side the fence, when a rabbit popped up in front of Marm's nose and ran through the wire. Marm followed as I screamed NO.

She didn't go far, as she dislocated her back leg, and tore up her front legs immediately. We were about 1/2 mile from the car. She weighs about 68 lbs.

But before I could even get her to the car, I had to get her on my side of the barbed fence. And this fence was taut, and unforgiving. She had stopped screaming and was hopping towards me. I tried to spread the fence so she would have more room to go through, but only managed to gash my arm. I don't even remember how she got through, but she did. She had to hop through a very small opening, on three legs, two of which were streaming blood, as the 'broken' one was off in an errant direction.

I picked her up, and carried her most of the rest of the way. She didn't emit one sound until she got in the car, and tried to lay down. This was 9 am in the morning. Best Friends wouldn't see me until 1 pm and that was unacceptable, so I took Marm to the new vet in town.

The Kanab Vet, after consulting with Dr. Weir, and against her advice, put a cast on Marm's (still swelling) leg. We had xrayed and she felt that it was a dislocation with no fracture. She also completely stitched up the front leg which we had asked her not to do. I spent the night awake with Marm as swelling continued everywhere, and I feared for loss of circulation. I left numerous messages for the Kanab vet all night, and finally reached her at 6:30 am. Of course, I had been talking with Heather (Dr. Weir) most of the night, and as long as her toes weren't turning purple, and oozing we had some time.

At 7 am I was at Kanab vet and it took 1 hour to get the cast off. We then wrapped it and put this John Henry or Henry John or some such thing around her. It was ridiculous and didn't fit Marm and made more swelling for her under her haunches. We took that off within the day, and just double wrapped the leg for stability. I then called Vegas to make an appointment with a surgeon.

It took me three days to get a hold of a surgeon, and on Tuesday I was in Las Vegas for a consult. Wednesday was surgery, and Marm did have some small bones chips, but it was mostly dislocation on just one side, so Dr. Pelsue opted for sewing of the ligments, and then an external fixature around the hock area to stablize. We stayed in Vegas until Friday to make sure healing was going OK, and we've been home since then.

I've mostly been trying to keep Marm quiet, and not licking her stitches. It's hard to do with my anxious, intense, let-me-run girl. We just now are getting to sleep through the night with only one wake up. It's 4 weeks of NO exercise. Then 4 weeks of leash exercise, and the fixature can come off. Then it's another 4 weeks of minimal exercise. Yeah, right. We will do the best we can. Marm is getting pretty testy about having to wear the muzzle most of the time so she won't do damage to her healing. I'm getting pretty testy about her getting testy. But all should be well in the future.

On a brighter note, here is That Little White Dog doing what she does best - burying her head in the dishes and cleaning them all with that little tongue.

We Miss Marm
Oh our Marmie... Her exuberance, though at times a bit much, is sorely missed. The house is very silent with all us Golden Oldies here. Unfortunately, Shalise was not able to get me pictures in time to scan and show you, but I do have a few pictures from the day I brought her to Salt Lake City to stay with Shalise to get better.

Marm making herself right at home on Shalise and Doug's bed. Shalise and Doug currently care for 4 other greyhounds. Cinnamon, Jessie, Red, Ringo.

Here we are at Shalise's regular vet in Heber City. Shalise has Cinnamon in her lap, because Cinnamon is a VERY BIG BABY about going to the vet. Cinnamon is very very tied to her Momma's apron strings. Marm is taking the vet visit in stride which is a very good thing. At that visit, he recommended we bring Marm to a specialist he knew in SLC, Dr. Smith. Three days after I left, Shalise took Marm to him, and that is when we found out that things weren't good. He feels that the fixator was:
1. Put in twice2. Should never have been put in3. Caused bone infection4. A piece of the fixator is broke off in her leg
We are devastated at this news on so many levels. And we are still not sure of where it will all come out, and how Marm will be. Dr. Smith took out the fixator, and has had Marm on Clavamox for the past 2 months. He doesn't want to do anything until he feels the bone infection is healing first. while Marm is running around and being happy, she is not putting any weight on that leg, and does yelp in pain at times, so Shalise will be seeing him this week with Marm.

In the meantime Marm is getting to know her new brothers and sisters. Ringo is her favorite because she can beat up on him, and there is nothing Marm likes more than to pick on a boy. Ringo is a 1 year old puppy, that likes the girls to pick on him. So Marm and Jessie chase him around the yard. He in turn annoys the hell out of Marm when she is in her recliner, playing Queen. The above picture is Ringo watching Jessie lay in a very deep hole she dug in their sandbox. Below is Big Red. He was rescued with Annie - you remember that little white dog that thinks she's a dishwasher, and likes to put her head in pots and clean them. Red can't get up on his own anymore, and spends his days demanding that Shalise carry him from floor to outside and back again. She is a very obliging nurse.

This is Sara Lee on the outside deck chair, while Marm is wondering where HER chair is, and giving Sara Lee the - 'get out of my chair you B**** look'. You can see Jessie's head peeking out on the opposite chair. I took Sara Lee on this trip to see if she would be able to go xcountry with the Gang. Though she was OK in the car - she didn't move one muscle for 6 hours - which while a good thing on one level, really means she doesn't like the car, and it does stress her out to be in new situations constantly. So we found a really good home for her with a young guy, Fudd, that she can boss and pal around with. She's very happy, and we miss her sweet little face and joy of life around here, too. The below photo is Marm giving up on waiting for Sara Lee to get off the deck chair.

OUR FIRST RV TRIP
Beauty, Winslow, Annie and my RV trip was...well, it was what it was. I found out that driving a RV is not my most favorite thing to do. It is big, and it rattles, and it's unweildy, and it doesn't go as fast as a car, and it costs a lot of money for gas - but it does have a traveling bathroom which is a really good thing when you drink a lot of water in the car. All three of my dogs adore the car and traveling, so I thought they would really enjoy the RV, but that was an incorrect assumption.

I made all the beds up in the back, so Beauty would have one bed, and Winslow the other. Annie I figured could curl up in the front seat in her leopard dog bed. Well all the dogs wanted the front seat, and it became the musical seat. If one moved from it, another got in it. In this picture you can see Winslow's feet on one bed, Beauty has claimed the front seat, and Annie isn't sure where she wants to hang out.

Here is Beauty in the front seat, with Annie's bed propped on top of the TV squished in the front space of the front seat. There is also a cooler between the seats with a dog blanket on it, so there is a bit more room to stretch out on the bucket seat. I lugged that TV across country, with visions of quiet evenings watching videos in the campgrounds - HAH - I never once had the time to take out and plug the damn thing in and watch a movie.

Here is Winslow squeezed into Annie's dog bed trying to be comfortable. At times I'd hit some bad roads - like every road back East is in that category - and cabinets would swing open, and things would fall down from the sky. Winslow, or Chicken Little, as I dubbed him for the trip would then bolt off the bed, and leap on top of Annie trying to squeeze into her little dog bed on the front seat on top of her. He didn't even flinch as she attacked him with her few measly teeth going right for the veins in the legs. I'm yelling and trying to keep the rig on the road at 75 mph, and dogs are playing musical seats. It was a zoo.

This is Winslow saying - Are you talking to me?

Needless to say, I will not be taking all three dogs to Dewey. I'm also trying to talk myself out of taking the rig, but I think I'll need the room. Always an adventure, even if not a relaxing one.

Morning Hikes
We take a morning hike most days, and everyone is off leash. There is a dirt road around the outskirts of our golf course that is surrounded by sage and red rock. The dogs adore these jaunts.

I adore them too. The pleasure of seeing them let loose. Run for the fun of it, the freedom of it, the joy in it. Though I have my heart in my throat for some of the walk, especially when they are off running after some imaged friend, I can't deny them this pleasure.

Marm most enjoys these times. She's like those wound up toy tops that spin in a dizzying circle, so full of themselves and tight in their motion. She'll get down on all fours, wired like a spring, and then just burst out - at me, at the ground, at the air. When she does this freedom dance, she leaps over sage and suspends herself in the air, like a gazelle, poetry in motion.

A camera in slow motion couldn't do her justice, as her beautifully taut body flies over red-dusted ground, searching for adventure. She is a rare greyhound, the kind who will come immediately when I call, as her desire to please overrides her natural instinct to chase. So when I give the call - Mar…ma…lade in full throat - she takes the fastest path back to me, those leaps a joy to behold.

Lately she has decided that climbing to the highest peak is a joy she must experience, and she powers herself up these dirt-filled hills, to stop and survey her kingdom. She always looks back at me, just to make sure she's not getting herself in trouble being up there. And as soon as I call she's hurtling down the hill, back at my side, her body expressing all the pleasure in her adventure. Asking me if I don't want to run up that hill and survey the vista with her.

I don't worry much about Marm hurting herself. For the 8 months she has been with me, she has seldom nicked herself on these outside adventures. She just seems to know how to move, when to move, where to move.

Yesterday, Marm found a deer leg. It had been there for a long time, but she proudly came running back at me, leg in mouth. I yelled, "drop it" - and with confusion and hurt, she dropped it at my feet. "But, Mom, look at this wonderful thing I found. Aren't you proud?" her body and eyes said. "It's lovely, Marm, but I think it looks better in this tree," I responded.

And so, until we find Marm her forever home, she'll run free here. Giving me and herself pleasure in the freedom that comes in being happy.

Tour of Greyhound Gang Yard
This month I thought Marm would take you on her tour around our 2.5 acres.
This is the path heading up the driveway to the road. We walk this every day, but particularly when garbage needs to be dragged the length of the driveway to await the garbage men that come every Tuesday. Here, Annie, Beauty and Marm have helped me bring weeds to the top of the driveway so they will be ready and waiting for the truck that comes to pick them up. The girls always help me with the chores. Winslow always stays back at the house on his bed. Typical male.

After we've hauled weeds down the long, stone covered driveway, we then walk around the property checking for debris. This property was definitely a former Anasazi ruin, thousands of years ago, and Marm is very good at looking for artifacts. She's always checking out the nooks and crannies around the sage brush, and has discovered many a bunny, bird and broken shard in her travels around the yard.

Marm can find fun anywhere she goes. Her enthusiasm for a walk around the yard knows no bounds, and with just a little bit of encouragement - like Go, Marm, Go - she takes off and sprints around sage, and flies in freedom and fun.

Marm has a beautiful body, and is especially proud of her derriere. She has this very entertaining habit, that occurs on all walks we do. Some greyhound people call it trancing. I call it something else, and at the risk of offending I won't say the word - though it involves pleasure. She will get near a bush, and then start moving in slow motion, as her body brushes the bush. One paw in the air, slowly moving through it, and then the other paw - all as if a movie camera has slowed down everything. And the look on her face is priceless. She has gone somewhere lovely, and if you call her out of it, she almost seems to get embarrassed that she was caught in such a pleasurable state. She's a girl that knows how to enjoy life.

When our sojourn around the yard is over, then it's back to the house, and a drink of water with Winslow. Who's happy to see us, and has been having a siesta the whole time the girls were working.

11.
This last month I spent going cross country with Beauty and the RV. I got to see Marmy-Swarm on my way out of Utah and she is so happy in her new home, and I was so happy to see her so happy. She didn't know what to do once she realized it was me. She was wiggling that body of hers, and running back and forth between Shalise and I, and making mewling sounds, as she conveyed her excitement. You could tell she didn't want to hurt either one's feelings, as she'd run and lean against me and then run and lean against Shalise. Doug, Shalise's husband, was very worried I was going to take Marm back, and he tried to take her out of my sight before I'd even spent any time with her. It was clear that Marm loved her new home and new pals, and that is always the best feeling when you've helped make a greyhound happy.
I'll have pictures of Marm next month, as Shalise has them at the developer, and I'll get them in November.

The news: Marm had her entire leg amputated October 17th. Shalise said on the way to the doctor, she sat in that front car seat like she owned it. Shalise now calls her "Stumpy-Bum" and Marm wags her little tail as she is so excited with her new nickname. Just yesterday Shalise was calling her this name, and clapping, and Marm was jumping on one leg, and swatting at Shalise with her front paws.
She goes to the doctor to get stitches out November 1 and for her first real checkup after the amputation.
The 4th morning after her surgery she was ready to play with Ringo. Shalise wouldn't let her, and until stitches are out Shalise won't give her total free rein. She's getting lots of exercise though, as she does charge out when Shalise lets her guard down, and then Shalise calls her and she charges back. Plus she gets daily walks on leash. But no running in the yard and beating up Ringo just yet.
She's acting as if nothing is wrong. She jumps up into favorite recliner chair, demands her attention and is acting perfectly normal. Her bruising and pooling of blood is gone. She's got about 1/2 of her hair to grow back on her bum, and then she'll be all covered for the cold winters in northern Utah. Beautiful, photogenic Marm....

THE TRIP
Here are some bits and pieces from the trip - 9/30 - 10/26.
The first few days I spent in Utah and Colorado. Seeing Marm and visiting Heather's (Dr. Weir) current abode. She had told me she basically lived in a kennel, and had not been encouraging me to visit.. I hesitated about sharing these pictures, but it is evidence of what those that care about greyhounds do to make a difference. My life became entwined with Heather's when I spoke briefly with her one day in 1997 when I was at CSU for Slim's spinal surgery. A woman with 4 greyhounds in a Suburu, with whom I had conversation. We had no clue then that we would ever meet again. And here we are.
When Almost Home for Hounds is a reality, Heather's life might get a wee bit easier, and she'll be better able to rescue more dogs. This is a photo of the 80 acres bought in Nunn, CO for $110,000 to build AHH on. It's very flat. Heather is currently in conversations with contractors. What we thought would be $300,000 for the building is now fast approaching $400,000. So it goes. I have a lot of money to raise. :)

Here's another shot of the road Heather will live on. It doesn't have a name, only a number. That's the RV that Beauty and I drove for the month. It's a lot easier to handle with just one dog.

Heather has been living in a very adorable older home, owned by her mom in Loveland, Colorado on a busy street. One small room has crates and some kitties in it. Another has crates and stuff in it. The porch has all the food, and the equipment to spay and neuter. The main room has crates on either side with lots of dog stuff piled on top. The yard is small, and is pooper scooped 2 times a day, and redone with lime every few weeks. Neighbors are 10 feet away.

She's going to be upset when she sees I took a picture of her bed. As you can see it's right out there with all the crates. Most dogs were outside when I took this picture, it's not common to find only one dog on the bed. I'll be updating the web site soon with more information about the fundraising efforts for AHH. You can read about it, here.

Here's Dad. And that's Beauty's head in the front seat. She loved being navigator, and loved the attention of being with me 24/7. I stopped in CT, before going on to Dewey. I had sent some Get Up & Go items there that I needed to pick up. Leaves were just starting to change, and my Dad has a green thumb, and the yard was full of Dahlias and Asters and many other wonderous flowers. I packed every nook and cranny of the RV with things to sell at Dewey. About $6000 was raised for the hounds. I was a bit disappointed as I went home with lots of product, even though I discounted all the items. People are so much more interested in glitzy items vs. something that might actually help their dog. Oh, that sounds awful :), but we just keep converting people, one dog at a time.

I have to apologize for this month. I just didn't learn my camera well enough to download pictures when on the road this month, and so there are very few pictures, and I appear to have lost some of them too. I often feel like I need technical help full time lately to run the Gang and the web site efficiently.
I'm thinking of discontinuing the Greyt Angel program as of 2004. My expectation for the program was to provide well written, thoughtful essays with pictures for the generous people donating monthly to read them. I've been unable to find the time to write well, and the technical side of picture taking and putting them up on the web still confounds me. I feeling I'm not giving my Greyt Angels their money worth of story and pictures every month, and not doing as good a job as I could with it. And that's not acceptable to me.
I'm also concentrating on fundraising, and don't have any other dogs here for adoption except Regis - a return of 12 years old. He's pretty arthritic, and needs acupuncture a few times a month, plus joint supplements and Adequan shots, plus is getting even more teeth pulled tomorrow, so I don't think he's going anywhere. Writing about dogs I have up for adoption becomes a bit problematic without dogs. Heather always has dogs up for adoption that the Gang helps pay for, but her time is very limited, and she can't take pictures etc. So I'll let you know by the end of the year about the program. I've been so appreciative of your support, and don't want to abuse that. Some of you have been with the program since its inception, and that relationship is very special to me.

Happy Howl-oween to all.

Our Howl-oween Tribute
The best I can do for a Halloween picture. Winslow as Sonny Bono, Beauty as Marilyn Monroe, and Marm as Penelope Cruz. Beauty prefers her Cher look on the front page in October.

This is Marm's latest project. I was away for a few weeks, and she did not get the exercise she feels she must have. So in order to keep herself busy when I was gone, she decided to take a trip herself. This is the beginning of the hole to China.

This is another view of the hole, which is about 2 feet deep so far. In this picture, Marm is disavowing any knowledge of the hole.

Winslow and Commander are checking out the hole on another day. It is now absolutely big enough to contain 2- 3 greyhounds, and Winslow is doing just a little bit of rearranging before he gets comfortable in this new resting spot, courtesy of Marm.

Beauty has come by to visit to see what all the excitement is all about. She is not impressed.

Rosa, the new addition to the Gang is a bit more interested to see what country she can reach in this hole. It's not quite China, but she thinks she can get to Europe with no problem. Rosa, the staghound, arrived from the wilds of New Mexico, and she's a dog that likes to travel to far and exotic places.

Working that hard, requires sleeping this hard. We love our Marm.

Marm's Amputation
Shalise sent these twelve pictures down from Salt Lake City which track Marm's amputation odyssey. This backtracks a bit from last month's story of Marm's after amputation antics, but provides pictures of her.
These are from before the surgery. Dr. Heather Weir, who I featured last month and is spearheading Almost Home for Hounds, rescues greyhounds from the farms. They stay in her home until all medical work, socialization and profiling is done, and she then transports them to a few adoption groups in the West. This was a trip she was making with a stop in Salt Lake City, and onto Reno from Ft. Collins with 10 dogs for Greyhound Friends in CA. They met her in Reno. Shalise and Marm went to get her opinion on the amputation during her stop-over in SLC.

From Shalise: "The National Abilities Center in Park City was allowing Heather to use one of their fenced areas to pee pee the dogs in transport to Nevada. Marm just finished her visit with Heather and wanted to play with the van doggies in transport. "

After one surgeon's opinion, and two vets we trusted, we knew that amputation was the choice we had to make for Marm.
These are pre-surgery pictures from the week and day before surgery.

Marmalade on her last hike before her surgery.

Marm and her friend Jessebelle catching up on a little shut eye.

Marmalade getting her bath the night before her surgery.

Marmalade warming up after her bath as she finishes her good girl treat.
These are all Post Surgery:

Leaving the vet after having her leg amputated. This is 1 pm, the day after her surgery.

Close view of surgical area.

Nothing prevents Marm from sleeping her in favorite position. This is day two after surgery,

These are day three after surgery.

And nothing prevents Marm, and so many greyhounds like her, from accepting what life throws their way and living it to the fullest. I called Shalise and Doug today to see how their holidays went and get a Marm update, and the first thing out of Doug's mouth when he found out it was me on the phone was, "Marm loves me, you know."
Everything that touches your heart make a difference.

14.
Here's Marm waiting for the call that it is walk time. This is the futon couch outside the Guest House. This couch is usually owned by Winslow and Annie, so this is a rare shot of Marm lounging on it. We usually take our walks in the morning, as soon as I've gone through the emails from the night before. In the summer that's around 6 am because of the heat. In the winter, sometimes it's Noon before we hit the trail cause it's too cold otherwise.

Our walk starts. We usually take a dirt path off of the nine-hole golf course in Kanab.There are three routes we could go on, the most popular is to the right. That's Marm checking out everything around her.

A little further down the dirt road, she's always checking ahead to see what she can see.

And she's gone. Quick as a jack rabbit, she's bounding through the dirt and brush always scanning, always looking. To see them leap and bound is poetry in motion. Marm has never hurt herself (knock on wood), she just always seems to know where to land, and where to run. Whereas Beauty is always an accident waiting to happen.

But there really wasn't much to see after all. Just someone leaving their calling card.
Hey, guys, come check out this spot. Beauty has arrived, and is checking things out too.

Winslow, Beauty and Marm have a meeting of the minds.

Marm and Winslow never need coats. Beauty and Annie always do. You don't see a picture of Annie here because she HATES having her picture taken. She is so funny about it. If I am carrying the camera she stays way behind me, and if I turn towards her she stops and looks away. It just cracks me up.

And here's Marm after the walk is done.
Addendum: We're waiting on 22 greyhounds coming from CO today. Dr. Weir is driving them down. And will continue onto Las Vegas in a couple of days. A group from CA is coming to take some, and Greyhound Rescue and Adoption in Vegas is taking some, and the Gang will foster a 9 yr old gal, and a 1 yr old boy with all his toes sprained on one foot, so he's in a splint for a few months.
And not like it's enough getting ready for all those guests, we also lost our water for the past 3 days. Marm was very helpful with all the hole digging we did to try and find where the water break was. But you know from a prior story how good she is with holes. All that energy - someone should harness it.

15.

Marm vignettes
I've been taking Marm to different people's homes to watch her when I go away so she will learn to adapt to new situations. She isn't a big fan of change, she likes her status quo, and she's been with me a bit longer than most now, and I need to remind her that change will happen to her when we find the right home.

Brewer adventure

When I go into Vegas, I stay with Carla and Chris. They not only adopted my dogs, they adopted me too. And I was the most special-needs case. When they need to get away, I also baby-sit for them. Marm, Beauty and Winslow come with me, and since I'm just there for a day and a half, we join Lady, Foster and Smiles at the Brewer/Lescosky household. I go out for a few hours to run errands. When I return, only six dogs greet me at the door. Marm is gone.
I first think POOL. But there was no access to the outside pool. Then I think fight, but no one, and no walls have blood all over them. Then I think she got locked in a room upstairs. I run up there, but no Marm. And then I go into the garage, and she is in the back seat of Carla's Isuzu Rodeo. She'd leapt from the garage floor through the back window to the back seat of the car. However, the back seat was up, and so she landed all the way down on the floor of the car. And there she was her little head peering through the bottom of the window. I can only think she was trying to find me, and knew I'd gone in the car. Or else felt safer there.

At Home with the Gang

She knows how to relax. Flat out on her back, with all legs splayed. Front legs up straight to the heavens, back legs flat out to the floor - all she wants is you to rub that tummy and massage her. Give her a spot and she is there - totally relaxed. To think this girl lived in a crate for three years of her adoptable life. She is taking total advantage of having all the room she needs to stretch out.
Top Dog

Marm so wants to be THE girl. But Beauty is THE girl at the Gang. However, Marm keeps trying. If Beauty leaves the front seat of the car - Marm is there in a flash. If Beauty is not on my bed at night, Marm is there, trying to hide under the covers she has so nicely arranged for herself. She'll push all the other dogs out of the way to be the one that gets the attention. It's just another reason why she needs her own home, so she can be the queen. Because she so deserves to be queen Marm.

Listening

Marm is a great listener. You call her name and she is there. You tell her to do something and she does it. She has such a desire to please you, that your wish is her command. I wish I had more time to work with her, as she would probably make a great agility dog or lure courser. She is so alert, and so watchful of her human. Her every movement is to do what you would like her to do. I adore the way she cocks her head at you when she is listening. She tilts it ever so slightly, and looks straight at you with all her intelligence, and you just have to hug her.

Excitable

Marm hardly knows how to contain herself. When it's time to go for our walks she is whirling and twirling, and stepping on my toes as I try to put my sneakers on. If I'm not fast enough in dressing, then there are the little love nips on my arms - "hurry, hurry, hurry" her tight, wound up body insists.
When we don't get in enough of a run everyday, then Marm exercises herself by running around and around the house, and jumping over the flower pots that are in the middle of her run, and dashing through the bushes, and doing turns on a dime. She has a lot of energy that I constantly need to dissipate in order for her to stay happy and calm. Exercise is such a key ingredient to these dogs' happiness. It doesn't have to be a lot, but it has to happen as daily as possible.

Marm is such a wonderful character. Full of life, and love and intelligence, just waiting to give all that and more to her forever home.

16.

13. Shalise sent these twelve pictures down from Salt Lake City which track Marm's amputation odyssey. This backtracks a bit from last month's story of Marm's after amputation antics, but provides pictures of her. These are from before the surgery. Dr. Heather Weir, who I featured last month and is spearheading Almost Home for Hounds, rescues greyhounds from the farms. They stay in her home until all medical work, socialization and profiling is done, and she then transports them to a few adoption groups in the West. This was a trip she was making with a stop in Salt Lake City, and onto Reno from Ft. Collins with 10 dogs for Greyhound Friends in CA. They met her in Reno. Shalise and Marm went to get her opinion on the amputation during her stop-over in SLC. From Shalise: "The National Abilities Center in Park City was allowing Heather to use one of their fenced areas to pee pee the dogs in transport to Nevada. Marm just finished her visit with Heather and wanted to play with the van doggies in transport. " After one surgeon's opinion, and two vets we trusted, we knew that amputation was the choice we had to make for Marm. These are pre-surgery pictures from the week and day before surgery. Marmalade on her last hike before her surgery. Marm and her friend Jessebelle catching up on a little shut eye. Marmalade getting her bath the night before her surgery. Marmalade warming up after her bath as she finishes her good girl treat. These are all Post Surgery: Leaving the vet after having her leg amputated. This is 1 pm, the day after her surgery. Close view of surgical area. Nothing prevents Marm from sleeping her in favorite position. This is day two after surgery, These are day three after surgery. And nothing prevents Marm, and so many greyhounds like her, from accepting what life throws their way and living it to the fullest. I called Shalise and Doug today to see how their holidays went and get a Marm update, and the first thing out of Doug's mouth when he found out it was me on the phone was, "Marm loves me, you know."