ozgirl2

So very sad... I'm so sorry... Cody also fought the meds - it's really horrible...

It also could be that he's very comfortable in your house now & can start getting into some mischief! I think about 6 months is usually the "honeymoon is over" period... he could have just been having a bit of a party (and many greys LOVE to shred paper - any paper!) Also, maybe use baby gates to keep him in just a few rooms while you're gone?

WOW!! Janet & Marilyn in the same post on the same day!!!! It's old home week! (And Janet - I have to tell you... when I first read your title, I read it as "and I'm a Lurcher"!!! hahahaha

Welcome.... again!! (And at least you kept your avatar pic the same!! I hadn't even realized you'd changed your 'name'!! Just saw the pic & knew it was you...)

No matter what anyone on here says, you CAN have just one! Cody was an only for the entire time I had her (8.5 years)!! Congrats and welcome!

The only people I know in VT are in Brattleboro - a bit far, I think! (Although they do have dogs! Just not greys...)

I'm so very sorry... as others have said, he'll be much missed here, and I'll never forget 'chikken arms'... I also hope Mr. Bigglesworth will be OK without his pal. Hugs to you... George is a GT favorite (and will remain so...) Run free of pain, George!

Still early days yet! You won't see her true personality for several more months, probably!! Just enjoy the ride!!

Hi from Maryland! Wasabi is a great name!! And I think that's the proper size bed for a grey!!!!! (However, if you'd left her on there long enough, there would probably still have been a bed-fail!! )

I'm so sorry, Cindy... you gave him the BEST place to spend his senior years! Run free, Brady...

I'm so very sorry.... way too young...

And he is gorgeous!!

Try the protein source first, but keep in mind that some dogs (ie Cody) can be allergic to RICE!!!

Hugs to you... Tasha is beautiful...

Welcome to GT - I had a tortie, Ween, for 17 years!! She was... um... different! (For that, read "hated anyone but me, including the dog!!")

Lila's a beauty!! And the new girl is drop dead gorgeous!!! (I love the brindles...) Congrats, and welcome to GT!!

And just think if you HADN'T asked!! Next vet visit, he'd ask 'Why is she all greasy?!?!?!' She's adorable!! We need MANY MANY pictures!!!

Welcome to the cult.. um... club! Yeah, that's it! CLUB!!

Welcome from Maryland! My grandmother & 2 uncles lived in Tulare when I was growing up - and we visited Porterville a number of times while I was out there in the summer (and Visalia - to go to Mooney's Grove!) - they had friends there!!

I'm heartbroken... I've loved Argos since you first got him! He was my first galgo I 'knew'... Hugs to you... what a gorgeous boy he was - I'll always remember him...

Here is something Kathleen Gilley wrote - it's great for newbies - gives you some perspective on your new grey!! I re-read it every year or so!! Let us review a little. From weaning until you go away for schooling, at probably a year and a half, you eat, grow and run around with your siblings. When you go away to begin your racing career, you get your own "apartment," in a large housing development. No one is allowed in your bed but you, and when you are in there, no one can touch you, without plenty of warning. Someone hears a vehicle drive up, or the kennel door being unlocked. The light switches are flipped on. The loud mouths in residence, and there always are some, begin to bark or howl. You are wide awake by the time the human opens your door to turn you out. A Greyhound has never been touched while he was asleep. You eat when you are fed, usually on a strict schedule. No one asks if you are hungry or what you want to eat. You are never told not to eat any food within your reach. No one ever touches your bowl while you are eating. You are not to be disturbed because it is important you clean your plate. You are not asked if you have to "go outside." You are placed in a turn out pen and it isn't long before you get the idea of what you are supposed to do while you are out there. Unless you really get out of hand, you may chase, rough house and put your feet on everyone and every thing else. The only humans you know are the "waiters" who feed you, and the "restroom attendants" who turn you out to go to the bathroom. Respect people? Surely you jest. No one comes into or goes out of your kennel without your knowledge. You are all seeing; all knowing. There are no surprises, day in and day out. The only thing it is ever hoped you will do is win, place or show, and that you don't have much control over. It is in your blood, it is in your heart, it is in your fate-- or it is not. And when it is not, then suddenly you are expected to be a civilized person in a fur coat. But people don't realize you may not even speak English. Some of you don't even know your names, because you didn't need to. You were not asked or told to do anything as an individual; you were always part of the "condo association?; the sorority or fraternity and everyone did everything together, as a group or pack. The only time you did anything as an individual is when you schooled or raced, and even then, You Were Not Alone. In my "mobile abode," the Greyhounds each have several unique names, but they also have a single common name: it is Everybody. We continue to do things as a group, pack or as we are affectionately known in-house, by Kathleen's Husbandit, "The Thundering Herd." Back to those who have not been permanently homed. Suddenly, he is expected to behave himself in places he's never been taught how to act. He is expected to take responsibility for saying when he needs to go outside, to come when he is called, not to get on some or all of the furniture, and to not eat food off counters and tables. He is dropped in a world that is not his, and totally without warning, at that. Almost everything he does is wrong. Suddenly he is a minority. Now he is just a pet. He is unemployed, in a place where people expect him to know the rules and the schedule, even when there aren't any. (How many times have you heard someone say, "He won't tell me when he has to go out." What kind of schedule is that?) Have you heard the joke about the dog who says, "My name is No-No Bad Dog. What's yours?" To me that is not even funny. All the protective barriers are gone. There is no more warning before something happens. There is no more strength in numbers. He wakes up with a monster human face two inches from his. (With some people's breath, this could scare Godzilla.) Why should he not, believe that this "someone," who has crept up on him, isn't going to eat him for lunch? (I really do have to ask you ladies to consider how you would react if someone you barely knew crawled up on you while you were asleep?) No, I will not ask for any male input. Now he is left alone, for the first time in his life, in a strange place, with no idea of what will happen or how long it will be before someone comes to him again. If he is not crated, he may go though walls, windows or over fences, desperately seeking something familiar, something with which to reconnect his life. If he does get free, he will find the familiarity, within himself: the adrenaline high, the wind in his ears, the blood pulsing and racing though his heart once again--until he crashes into a car. Often, the first contact with his new family is punishment, something he's never had before, something he doesn't understand now, especially in the middle of the rest of the chaos. And worst of all, what are the most common human reactions to misbehavior? We live in a violent society, where the answer to any irritation is a slap, punch, kick, whip, or rub your nose in it. Under these circumstances, sometimes I think any successful adoption is a miracle. He is, in effect, expected to have all the manners of at least a six-year old child. But, how many of you would leave an unfamiliar six-year old human alone and loose in your home for hours at a time and not expect to find who knows what when you got back? Consider that if you did, you could be brought up on charges of child abuse, neglect and endangerment. Yet, people do this to Greyhounds and this is often the reason for so many returns. How many dogs have been returned because they did not know how to tell the adoptor when they had to go out? How many for jumping on people, getting on furniture, counter surfing, separation anxiety, or defensive actions due to being startled or hurt (aka growling or biting)? So, let's understand: Sometimes it is the dog's "fault" he cannot fit in. He is not equipped with the social skills of a six-year old human. But you can help him. Read more: http://awesomepaws.proboards.com/thread/45/fear-pain-training#ixzz393z8oBcA

I'm so sorry... Aston is beautiful, and will live forever in your heart. Hugs... And we all understand here...

Pam- I'm so very sorry... I didn't see this thread till today, but read in another thread about Poodle... He has been a mainstay on GT forever - and got his OWN day once a year! Hugs to you Run free, Poodle

Soooo jealous if you get to meet Bean~!! We ALL want to meet Bean!! Oh, and welcome to GT and the greyhound cult...um world!! (Yeah, that's it...)

She works at a vet's office!!!