The Queen is Dead. Long Live the Queen.

From time to time I still write a piece about my heart dog Girly Girl. Losing her to osteosarcoma was incredibly painful and I think about her every day since she left me. Sometimes the pain of that loss is closer to the surface than others. This past weekend was one of those times. 

Maisey at MGPS' Annual Open House

Maine Greyhound Placement Service held its annual open house. Girly Girl was my first hound and I remember the day she picked me when I paid a visit there like it all happened just yesterday. Part of the open house weekend is about remembering and honoring all our hounds that crossed the bridge. So I guess it isn’t surprising that that wound felt like it had been ripped open yet again.



But the annual open house is also a time when I can count on seeing Maisey. Maisey is a beautiful brindle girl who was known as Nita’s Daisy during her racing days. Maisey has adopted a wonderful family who loves her quite a lot. Maisey also happens to be a near twin to my sweet Girly Girl. It’s not chance that they have such a strong resemblance. Girly Girl was known as Nita’s Girlygirl when she was racing. They came from the same breeder. Girly Girl was born in February of 2003 and Maisey was born in May of 2003. Amazingly they didn’t share the same mother or father but they do share the same grandfather and great-grandfather. They are the spitting image of their great-grandfather HB’s Commander.

Maisey and Girly Girl both raced out of the same kennel in Birmingham Alabama. Both ladies were good racers and both retired from racing in 2006 (April for Girly Girl, December for Maisey) due to a hock fracture of the same leg. I am not sure if they ever raced each other, but they did meet in retirement at various meet and greets here in Maine.

Maisey has a personality and temperament strikingly similar to Girly Girl’s as well. Both hounds are/were reserved. Not really shy, just private. Maisey does not fawn on people and she chooses very carefully who she will love. The list is not long. The rest of us, she tolerates. Girly Girl was exactly the same. Maisey’s family and I noticed at our very first meeting how alike the girls were and we have a special bond thanks to these sisters from another mother.

Girly Girl with Blue

But most importantly for me is that Maisey is still here. I would give just about anything to have Girly Girl back. But I know that can never happen. Still, I get to see what my girl would have looked like and been like as she aged by spending time with Maisey. I can see that my girl would have been the most spectacular old lady, just as Maisey is becoming. While I am not on Maisey’s short list of people she loves (wouldn’t that have been too perfect), she does allow me be in her presence and that is enough. While Maisey still exists, it feels like a little piece of my girl still has a toe hold in this world. Long live the Queen.

Porcine Prejudices

Greyhounds are inherently breedist. They are raised with other greyhounds. They race with other greyhounds. They live in the kennels with other greyhounds. They rarely see other breeds of dogs until they retire to their forever homes. So they prefer the company of other greyhounds. If you don’t believe me, get a greyhound and walk him or her into a room where one or more other greyhounds are already congregated. A small hint, keep a good tight hold on the leash.

Bettina and Blue are no different in this regard. Bettina shows some mild interest in other dogs and Blue shows almost none. But when they see or even hear another greyhound, it’s like finding a long lost brother or sister. Bettina also takes an unhealthy interest in other species. Mostly those that are categorized in the “good to chase and eat” category. But I was astonished the other day to discover that she has a hatred of pigs.

I was planting seedlings and seeds in the garden. It had been a dry week and the rain forecast was iffy. So I dug out my watering can from the garage to give the newly planted items a good soaking. My watering can is a cute little pig made from metal, and the water pours out of his snout. I thought it quite whimsical and charming when I bought it years ago. Bettina, not so much.

After I watered the garden, I put Mr. Piggy on my front steps. When he’s not functional, he’s art! I went inside and settled down with a good book. Bettina wandered over to the front door which, this time of year, remains open. The kids can look out the storm door to see what is going on in the neighborhood. Next thing I know, Bettina is whining and crying. She is on alert with her tail out straight behind her. Soon she has worked herself into a barking fit and she’s clawing at the door.

We have 3 cows across the street from us. While they are of mild interest to Blue and Bettina and provide a few minutes of interesting viewing daily, Bettina has never given them more than a passing thought before. Her strong reaction is usually reserved for things edible… cats, ferrets, rodents and cheddar cheese. So I jumped off the couch and ran to the front door expecting to see something in one of those categories in our front yard. But the scene was calm and peaceful. There was no one, human or animal in sight. Even the cows were on the far side of their field. I told her she was being silly and shooed her away from the door. I sat back on the couch to read. Moments later, she began her wind up and soon was barking furiously at the door. I checked again and still, nothing amiss outside. I moved her back away from the door and set up the safety gate.

Bettina stood leaning into the gate, peering out the front door whining and barking. What on earth? I checked once again as she was quite upset but everything was as it had been. Except, it occurred to me, that the piggy watering can was new to the scene. She couldn’t be barking at an inanimate piece of metal, could she? What a silly question. I let her at the door again and stood behind her while she worked herself into another frenzy. I followed her gaze and sure enough she was highly offended by poor Mr. Piggy.

Bettina is many things. She is fussy. She is stubborn. She is very funny. She is vocal. She is competitive. But I guess one thing she is not is smart. I opened the door and pulled Mr. Piggy inside. She inspected every inch of that watering can including stuffing her schnozz as far into the can as possible. I don’t speak her language fluently, but it certainly appeared she had worked out that this was a thing and not a creature. So I placed Mr. Piggy back out on the steps.

No sooner had I closed the door than Bettina was back on alert and soon barking, clawing and jumping at the door in an ill conceived effort to drive Mr. Piggy the watering can away. So when you can’t beat them, ignore them and go back to reading on the couch. Bettina barked her ridiculous little head off until even she finally got bored and wandered away. I admit to being a bit taken aback by her disdain for things of a pork nature. I knew she was, by her nature, a breedist, but I never knew she was an anti-swineite.

Frankendog

I have seen a video where you are asked to watch a basketball being tossed around by 5 people standing in a circle. When the video ends they ask if you saw the bear. The what? You watch the video again, looking not for the basketball, but for the bear. Sure enough, a person in a bear suit walked through the middle of the circle of people. They passed the basketball around him. So how on earth could you not have noticed that the first time around? Some of you may also have seen this video. I believe it was part of a study conducted at some random University. Up to now, I have been extremely skeptical that the bear actually walked through the first video I watched. Until I had the unfortunate chance to repeat a modified version of this experiment.  

Bettina After We Returned From the Vet



A 2 inch blood red gash with a flap of skin hanging on the side of a black greyhound would seemingly be an easy thing to spot. After an afternoon of whining and general fussy pantsedness, I sent Bettina and Blue out to the backyard for an unscheduled potty break. I went back to my office to work and heard them galumphing about the backyard like a herd of stampeding water buffalos. Then I heard Bettina let out a bark/growl followed by silence. Parents of human children know that as soon as everything gets quiet, you must run, not walk, to see what everyone is up to. Which I did.

Bettina was standing in the backyard. At random intervals she would whip her head around to look at her side. She looked like she was tracking some pestering insect. I didn’t see anything immediately wrong so I called them in. I figured she must have hurt a leg or been stung by something. So I carefully checked her over for leg injury and insect bite. The skin tear had been on the side that was facing me the entire time but do you think I saw it? No. Instead, I didn’t see an insect bite or a leg injury of any kind. It wasn’t until I had turned away and then back again that I noticed that part of her was red that had never been red before (hmmm, watching the same video the second time?). 

Bettina After Two Weeks



Skin tears in greyhounds are not unusual at all. They have such thin skin with no fat. It doesn’t take much. It’s almost a rite of passage as a greyhound owner to wait atnthe vet’s while your hound is stitched up during an emergency visit. So you might imagine that this was not a major surprise for me. Having literally just finished the Red Cross’ book on canine first aid, you might also think I was pretty well prepared for how to handle this situation. I had watched the first aid DVD. I had beefed up my doggy first aid kit with all sorts of bandages, gauzes, cold packs and vet wrap.

If ever there was someone who was ready for this crisis, it was me. So the very first thing I did when I saw the skin tear was to panic. By-passing a whole bag full of bandages, tape and wraps, I ran to my own medicine cabinet and grabbed the most inappropriate thing I could see, an Ace bandage. I tried wrapping it around her middle section and adhering it in place using those little metal grabby thingies that come with the Ace bandage. Since greyhounds have such deep chests, the Ace bandage made it around one and a half times. Plus it was only 1 inch wide and thus, did not cover the entire tear.

Still, in my state of mind, this was a great improvised solution until I could get her to the vet. I got Blue into his crate, closing only one of the latches, grabbed my wallet and Bettina and I was out the door. I forgot to lock the door so I ran back to the house to double check that and when I did, it reminded me that I had neither my house key, nor my car key with me. I grabbed the keys and ran Bettina to the car. At that point, my brilliant Ace bandage triage had slid down, going from a chest wrap to a stylish, if bloody, belt. No time for repair though, THIS WAS AN EMERGENCY PEOPLE!


Bettina The Day Her Stitches Were Removed

  I managed to deliver Bettina to the vet in one piece. Her skin had gone from a 2 inch tear to a 3 inch tear in the course of our journey. They took her in and put about 12 sutures in her side. They handed me back a slightly worse for wear greyhound completely whacked out on the last of her anesthesia and on some apparently good pain meds. If she hadn’t been on leash, she would have floated away.

She peed all over herself and the back of the car on the way home. Then she peed all over the bed she was laying on in the living room. Got to love anesthesia. As soon as we got home, I recalled all the first aid prep I had just completed and the robust collection of medical supplies in my basement. Actually, I tripped over them while I was downstairs washing the bedding from the car and the living room.