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Greystoked

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About Greystoked

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    Still wet behind the ears

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  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Cape Cahd
  • Interests
    Greyhounds, other stuff.

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  • Real Name
    Ray

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  1. The year after this happened, Joey discovered a better way to cool down all on his own. We live next to a small river, where Joey enjoyed lying on little sandy beaches; he started with digging a huge hole until he hit wet sand, then he'd lie in the hole and scoop the cool, wet sand up over his hindquarters and belly. Spend an hour like that, listening to the sounds of the river, watching the ducks, and snoozing like a hound. Then one day he discovered, he could actually wade in the water. And if he was wading, well, might as well lie down! So he'd get the cool water for a while, and when he got up, he'd be nicely soaked which would help keep him cool during the return walk home. After that, every walk in Summer (yeah... actually, from March thru October) included a quick dunk in the river. Even have a vid of him stretched out, while wee fishes nibble at his tail, like those foot-cleaning beauty boutique jobbies, picking off skin flakes. He didn't like that, though... felt icky, I guess. (If you threw a bit of bread in the water, in seconds it would disappear in a ball of writhing fish bodies; like mini-piranha! So cool!)
  2. I love that you have a garden grotesque instead of a garden g-nome, and Cletus doesn't seem to mind at all. Thanks for showing!
  3. Ah. I see my Mary posted here. My apologies for taking so long to respond, thank you all for your kind words and advice. Yea, who would understand better, than Greytalkers. Thank you and thank you again. We want a greyhound. No doubt of it. !st choice. Now Mary is doing a bit better, has been investigating shelters nearby. Sadly, we lost our car in 2016 and ran into some difficulties, so no replacement car yet. Oh yes, a Grey, because Greys are the best. I'm afraid the dog Tipper that Mary mentioned, has found his home. Both sad and happy. Mostly happy, he looked a good boi. Other hounds out there, but so far away. I of course continue to hope for the miracle. We shall see. When we had Sweetie Greyhound, he picked me, and 'rescued' me, and was so sweet and kind and loving and playful and dignified. Back then I joked here at GT that he seemed like the reincarnation of Ghandi. I felt he was the best dog ever, and when he passed I was sure we'd never see his like again. Oh yes, we must share home with another Grey, but it could never be the same. Never like Sweetie. Then Joey came to share our humble abode, he came in, found his way to Mum's pillow (where Sweetie so often nuzzled his snout and napped,) and was 'home' that very night. And we discovered, to our very great surprise and joy, that no, Joey stole our hearts every bit as much as Sweetie, and more. It was like Sweetie was back home with us, except Joey roached on the bed all the time, where Sweetie never did manage a full-on roaching. How do you deal with such tremendous heartbreak and loss, only to be blessed with a dog even more wonderful. Can't happen. Shouldn't happen. But it did. And I was so afraid something would go wrong, that I would mess up somehow, and so I neglected coming here to share our joy with pics and vids with all you fine Greytalkers. I am so sorry for that. Not usually superstitious. And then, Too Late. So, I'm hoping some big, goofy boy (or girl, doesn't matter, really) will somehow magically appear in our radar, needing a very loving forever home. And if, after sharing their heart and soul with us, for however long that may be, they too have to go off to the Rainbow Bridge, we will simply have to open our heart and home again to any dog that needs love. I don't have to tell you. All of you, already know. Thank you all for sharing your homes and your hearts, your pics and vids and stories, your joys and sorrows. Greys are the best, but all dogs are Good Bois. We do deserve them, despite what the meme says. Butt scritches all around, say I!
  4. Sorry for the all caps... that's what (and how) the lady said... The upcoming heat wave has brought this story to mind. It happened in 2014, our 3rd year with Joey, but first a little background. You may recall Joey came to us through the kind assistance of the Connecticut Greyhound Rescue group and the fine grey-talkers here. I thank you all. He had raced in Florida, and his foster family* told us he did not like the hot weather, and didn't care for walkies. (My goodness, I love this spell-checker with suggested speelings!) Turns out Joey soon loved walkies in our little neighborhood, and endeared himself to everyone he met. He had many friends here. But he didn't like the heat of Summer at all. Still, he wanted several walks everyday, including the Family Walk when we all stretched our legs, generally a stroll down to the boat ramp. Joey would soon get hot, tongue lolling, panting, and so we went slow and easy. And Joey discovered a way to cool off, a simple solution also known to small children. When we came to a particularly green and lush lawn, Joey would lie down with his belly on the cool, sweet grass. (This generally included flopping over onto the side, as an invite to rub his belly.) Something else we learned is that Joey would not drink when he was hot like this. Even when we got home, he'd rest for a while before drinking. We tried and tried when he was so hot and panting, other folk tried to no avail. He knew better than to drink when very hot.This is important further down. During the course of a half-mile walk, he would do this take-a-break-on-lush-grass several times, so a walk often took some time. One of his favorite places was at the end of a street with cool grass and many children. They all know his name, they all come up to greet and pet. He loved this, of course. And cool, green grass. You see, we live on a peninsula with a central boulevard. This street corner is just visible from the main road, but it's a good 300 feet distant and traffic generally flies by at 40mph. So what happened struck us a strange. There we were, resting against a horse (thingy that you can tie a horse to, like cowboys on Gunsmoke and Bonanza and such, whatever the heck it's called) thingy**, Joey lying on his side, replete with belly rubs and ear scritches from the crowd of kids that were now returning to play. He's panting heavily, but we know the drill... he's fine. Suddenly, a large SUV comes barreling down the boulevard and flies around the corner onto the side street, screeching to a halt in front of us. We look up, Joey looks up, we see an angry lady glaring at us who proceeds to exclaim, "I saw your dog panting! He's in distress! Have you given him water?! I have water here!!" We reply with thanks for the concern, no, he isn't distressed, just hot and cooling off on the grass before we head home. He won't drink when he's hot like this, Lord knows we've tried, he has cool water waiting at home. But thank you very much for caring. "He Needs Water! I have a dog! Take this water! (Waving a plastic bottle of water)" Um. How did you even see us from the road? Thanks, really, but he won't drink now. He won't drink until he cools down. Really. No, thank you very much, but he won't drink. Thank you! "He's panting! He needs water! Here, take it!!!" At this point it's almost a one-sided argument, she insists on water, we explain he simply won't drink. He knows what's good for him. Cool, green grass and a rest. Finally Joey gets up and gives us a 'Can we please go home? Please? Now?' look, so we say goodbye to the playing kids and start of down the boulevard. Water-lady sits, glaring, then roars off down the street to turn around and roar off back to the main road. Still can't figure out how she even saw him, she doesn't live anywhere near here. Eagle-eyes. We get home, Joey lies on his bed for a bit. When he's cooled some he has a nice, slow drink of cool, fresh water. Then he looks at us like "What was that even about? Time for a nap on Mum's cool, soft pillow." After all, he was a trained (albeit retired) athlete. He knows he'll just retch and barf if he drinks when too hot. He was a Good Boy, Bront.**** Well, I am of course sorry to take so long with this. I attribute the wordiness to the mistaken belief, "Idjit! You let 6 months zip past before Greytalking, again!! Now type! Type like you've never typed before! Fast, like a greyhound! Type, boy, type!!!!!"*** *Funny, this... can't remember the names of the kind gentleman and lady who fostered Joey, nor their little boy, but I can recall the name of their Greyhound. Henry. My mind was a terrible wasted thing. Wait, terrible thing to waste. Something of that kidney, any road. **Mary sez it's a hitching post. She smart. ***Five exclamation marks. Sure sign of a disturbed mind, according to Sir pTerry. ****Thanks, Imgur!
  5. Mary here. It had been four months and four days since we lost our beloved Joey and the pain has not gone away. In fact it has gotten worse, no doubt because our current circumstances might prevent us from ever getting another greyhound. In another post Ray mentioned us maybe getting a cat. Honestly I don't want a cat or other animal.I'm not sure if I could form the same bond. I don't know. Maybe i am just being selfish. But I am a lifelong dog person. Always I have relied on my canine friends for support and yes, unconditional love. And now I don't have that. We don't have that. When Ray was hurting or in a bad mood Sweetie and then Joey would get him in a better one. When I didn't want to get off the couch they would encourage me to get up and walk them. With Joey gone there doesn't seem to be much of a reason to do anything. I am trying to hold it together. So is Ray. But getting another grey seems like mission impossible right now. We are trying to be strong.We could get a dog tomorrow if we wanted. The local shelter has plenty. C and K have both offered to drive us. But the dog wouldn't be a a greyhound. Most of the shelter dogs are either old, or they are pitbulls. Not sure how we feel about them. Our best bet is a Portuguese Pentango named Tipper. He is in the sighthound family and honestly looks like a small greyhound. But he is 9 years old. Don't know how long he would be with us, or if he could except us ( his first family where he lived from puppyhood gave him up when they moved to a place that forbade pets) as his family. Would he bond? I can't bear the thought of him not bonding. Don't know what to do. Thanks for listening.
  6. Thank you. I think that is especially bad, losing someone on a holiday. I was afraid Joey wouldn't make it past Christmas, since he came to us near Christmas, which would've ruined the entire holiday season for poor Mary. I am very sorry to hear of Mazy's passing. Right now we are just hoping another fine hound will show up needing a home. Mary has investigated a few shelters near us, and she has even considered a cat despite not being much of a cat person. I haven't been able to feel much enthusiasm. I can't imagine anything other than another greyhound. But I fully support her, and only insisted on cleaning the place up a bit first. Having had dogs, cats, birds, fish, frogs-lizards-snakes and more as a kid, I'm happy to share time with anything. Of course what I really want, what we both want, is to have our Joey back with us. And Sweetie. Bear and Duke as well, even Frank if he promises never to latch onto/hang from Mary's arm ever again. And I guess that's natural, and everyone here can relate. But life is life and continues on, and the point, it seems to me, is to keep up and prepare for the next adventure. We'll just have to be patient, like everyone else, to see our dear boys again.
  7. My dear Macoduck, Again with the apologies. I truly am sorry, I don't know what is wrong with me. Thank you for your kind words, and what you say about us all, everyone, having gone through (or are going through) rough times, and experiencing such losses, is so very true. I felt there wasn't a gathering of people anywhere that would understand better than the Greytalkers here. That, I think, was what gave me the courage to login. I do not care to hear the phrase "It was just a dog." Folk here know better. (Sorry, allergies or something, trouble seeing keyboard...) I am so truly sorry for my hermit-like behavior. I think one of the things making it hard is hearing when someone such as yourself loses a beloved. I don't know what to say. I used to be a semi-computer guy, even taught adult night classes on Macs (which I'd never used, but a word processor is a word pro.) But not so good at the forum stuff. No facebook, twitter, none of that stuff. Got a Photobucket account, but I've heard that's no good anymore. Someone here mentioned Imgur, but after checking it out I woke up six months later with 106, 287 Imgur bookmarks and no idea what day it was. Still can't figure out how to join or upload anything. Got a youtube account, can't seem to figure that out either. Then there's the mindset. I have a health issue that leads to me hiding away as much as possible. Nobody wants to see that (expletive deleted.) I hope to do better here. I chuckled at your Old Grey Ache-ers homestead name. I guess we feel the same. We'd very much like to find another grey and share a forever home, but I'm not sure that's so easy these days. We don't care about age, I guess the only preference we might express is for a big ol' boy hound. Both Sweetie and Joey were so calm, good-natured and easy to handle (to pick up, not so much.) I guess nothing would make any difference, just to have a greyhound in the house again. Even for a short time. Yes, we'll go through it again. How could we not? I learned so much from Greyhounds! What a surprise, to discover just how wonderful and unique they are. Sweetie of course got me out of bed and walking again. Who 'rescued' whom, indeed! When Joey came to us, we continued our favorite walks. The woods, the beaches, Peterson Farm where lived a Llama. One time I walked with Mary and Joey well over two miles at South Cape beach! Amazing! I unfortunately lost the ability to walk so well a few years after Joey came. Limited to shorter walks in our neighborhood, or going down to the 'beach' by the river, Come 2016, I couldn't even manage that. Made Joey very sad. He loved our little neighborhood. Everyone knew him. Strangers were attracted to him, and he loved the attention. And he always had a magnificent pair of ears to lend to my tales of woe. Then he'd show me how to move on, with a grin and a wag. I've done it again, I see. And so bad at it, as well. Sorry. And, again, thank you. Darn. Don't know new layout. Not sure if I can do multiple replies. Please forgive me if I'm messing up. Horrible feeling I should address other responders in here. Sorry. My Dear Time4aNap (OMG! Love that name! ROFTTL), Apologies for this fiasco. I am, truly, such an idiot. Thank you for your kind words. You are right, it never gets easier. And we do it again. I believe I recall your handle, when I first joined with Sweetie I had a different username, can't remember it, but account lapsed due to me messing up and I rejoined with a rad new name. It is good to see you still here. I hope to do better here, I have joyous stories to share. Again, we thank you. Ahem. My Dear Beachbum1, thank you. I'm tryin'!!! (>sheepish grin emoticon substitute<) Um... My Dear Ozgirl, thank you for your kind words. I wish I had a memory, but I forgot where I left it. Probably same place I lost my mind. If you see it, could you tell it it's okay to come home, all is forgiven. (Minds these days, eh?) Thank you for the hugs. It is still difficult. Please excuse me, everything giving out at once, stupid fingers. Thank you all, again.
  8. My dear Macoduck, please accept our apologies for my incredible incompetence in responding so late with our grateful thanks for including my poor Joey in this remembrance list. I fear I am not very good at this forum stuff, and I remember you from those many aeons ago, so you probably recall I wasn't very good at it then as well. Your kind words here are a comfort to us all. Thank you.
  9. Well. It is Memorial Day, a day to remember those who have gone before. A moment of silence... Thank you. And here I am again, needing to apologize. And I am truly sorry for being so rude. I guess I am just no good at this sort of thing. A bit of background may help with understanding, as we do not mean to be rude. Some of you old-timers remember me from years past, and last I was here regarding our lovely boy Joey /AKA/ DK's Sweet Treat. Apparently, part of the reason for taking so long to return, is our difficulty in dealing with his having to leave us. And now I'm back to being wordy. Sorry. Let's start with me, since I am typing. Sorry about upcoming choppiness. I am 67. Trained as cook and baker. Worked both. Enlisted in armed forces right after 18th B-day in 1970. Broke neck in 1978, didn't know. Left arm stopped working. Most symptoms in arm, so docs didn't check neck. Spiral fracture of C4 with accompanying disc rupture. Disc material exuded into spinal canal, impinged nerve roots of L arm, hence symptoms there. Chiropractor got me able to work, arm acted up off and on over the years, in and out of work (only briefly out; I was a real fighter, back then.) 1984, left baking field, became machine operator. Because arm malfunctioned, ended up crushing left hand in stamping press. Much damage, broken bones, flesh torn. MGH rebuilt hand. Five months in cast up to armpit, three more casted to elbow. Heckuva story. Over four years OT/PT. Got another machine operator job in 1988, met SweetiesMum, hereafter named Mary. Flirted, fell in love, lived in sin. Been 30 years now. Wicked. But in 1990, a new neurologist ordered a cervical MRI and found the ancient, untreated neck fracture. It was affecting my new job, so I chanced surgery. Doc removed a couple of disk side bits (Processies?) , drilled a hole into vertebrae and removed disk material (impinging spinal cord/nerve roots) which over the years had turned into bone, fused the disks and avoided the planned discectomy. The shoulder pain of 12 years was finally gone. In 1994, I was rear-ended. To sum up, it messed me up bad and lead to a spinal cord disease called adhesive arachnoiditis, Don't ask, it is indescribable. After years of doctors, test, drugs, and a heart attack for good measure, I was told by the 4th pain specialist "There is no treatment. No cure. Learn to live with it." And so. Mary is 6 years my junior. Had an unpleasant childhood in a town having problems with a character. Bullied at school, the solution was to send her away to a private school near Boston. Ended up after high school caring for her now-elderly parents at home, all by herself. Not much family. Dad died in the living room, Mom was confined to hospital bed, going blind, losing mind due to over-medication. Died before we met, leaving Mary alone with her dog. Hospitalized with high fever from scarlet fever when young, high fever again from mono in her late teens, Mary started having sleep issues. We wonder. From our first night together, Mary has had sleep issues. Night terrors, sleep paralysis, more. And a weird form of cataplexy we didn't recognize. Finally diagnosed with narcolepsy. And more horror trying to get that treated. There's no cure, it is related to neural damage, but there is treatment. If we could only find it. Mary had a dog when we met, Duke, a Schnoodle, a Good Boy. Didn't like me at first.Gonna bite. Got him to accept me with the Treat Trick, got him healthy making food for him. We became good buddies over several years. He even accepted a crazy cat we named Frank(enstein, you little monster!) They would snuggle on his bed beside our bed. Such a good boy. He very uncharacteristically wandered away one night, was hit by a car. Much sadness. Mary has always had a dog or two, so she really missed our Duke. Which led to our friend Crazy Eddie. Eddie was married with 3 wee sprogs, an interesting wife, and a 'rescued' Husky named Bear. Bear had been bounced around, and was now consigned to a wire run in the woods/back yard. Had a plywood 'doghouse'. Was fed whatever the kids didn't finish, usually some form of pasta or other food prepared by a non-cook. Or canned squash, whatever was easy. Yes, we were appalled. Bear liked us, and Mary had plans. Those plans finalized the day Mary brought a McDonald's burger over for Bear. As she started taking the wrapper off, Bear lunged, grabbed the burger and wolfed it all in one bite, paper and all. Soon after, he came home with us. At first, he absolutely refused to come in the house. Wanted his wire run and doghouse out back. Loved getting attention and lots of company, and decent food/water. And one winter, bitter cold, Mary said "He's coming in." Cool. He didn't wanna. So Mary picked him up and carried him, kicking and grunting, into the house. Couldn't stop laughing. He sniffed his food and water bowls, turned and looked up like, "For me?" Saw his comfy bed, leaped on it, jumped up and down a few times, again "For me?!" He was an inside dog from then on. And no toddlers pulling ears! Luxury. But he developed spinal problems, couldn't walk, incontinent. Still loving alive, loved good food though he had to sit to eat. Then, one night, he couldn't eat and looked up at me and I knew. He had had enough now, it was too much. Vet came to the house, Bear died in our arms. Great sadness. Again Mary grieved with no dog. To say she is a dog-lover doesn't convey the depth of her feeling. And so she learned about the Greyhound situation. There was a kennel nearby that adopted out retired racers. I didn't want no Greyhound, they're racers, not pets. She said please, I was really hurting, but gave in, Off to the Kennel. They brought out four hounds. Three very excited girls on leashes, jumping, sniffing, yipping, all focused on Mary; and one big boy, unleashed. I had gone to sit in the corner, this boy quietly came over, put his chin on my knee, and looked up at me. I looked, and fell into those big brown eyes. My heart was won. An hour later he was home with us, and I became Grey stoked. He was my Sweetie. Our Sweetie. With Sweetie, I actually began to learn about dogs. He became my therapy dog as at that time I was on ever increasing doses of pain meds (so that I could travel for all the doctors, MRI's, etc. that my PCP kept sending me to. Car rides mess me up.) I spent a lot of time confined to bed reading Discworld novels. But Mary was working, and Sweetie wanted more walks with warmer weather. I couldn't say no to those eyes, though I could barely walk. Just to the end of the street at first. The next day, a hundred feet more. Gently, lovingly, and gratefully, he got me walking again. On to short woods walks, gradually longer and longer. He loved woods walks, it was the three of us. He also loved rides and shopping; Mary would shop, I would walk Sweetie in the parking lot so he could 'panhandle for pets.' He loved meeting folk, getting pets. Who rescued whom? But one horrible day, Sweetie was ill. Better the next day, then ill again. I'll give no description, suffice it was bad. Got worse. Vet said "Cancer of the blood". On the 5th day, we carried him to vet. Had to say goodbye. Worst ever. Of course, Mary had to have another grey. Me too. And here at Greytalk, you wonderful folk helped us hook up with Joey. And we drove to Connecticut to meet him, and he came home with us that day. Joy entered our home once again. But our stupid health issues. In 2005 I got my arach diagnosis, weaned off and quit the pain pills. 2006 and I started more walks with Sweetie, gardening, house repair. 2011 when Joey came home, we all enjoyed long woods walks. By 2014, Mary was having real trouble coping (had to lock herself in closets during lunch/breaks at work for power naps to get through the day, other stuff) and I was starting to skip some woods walks. Neuropathy, other stuff. Kept up neighborhood walks and hanging out by the river. The skin on my hands died and fell off. Nonsense at Mary's job aggravated her sleep issues, having trouble functioning. October 2016, I can't even do neighborhood walks any longer. All on Mary, she and Joey sad. January 2016, Mary breaks her wrist. Out of work, but handling it well. Has 'medical misadventure', primary hand is now messed up. Fridge starts dying, only freezer. Car off road, transmission line leak. Mary loses job (yeah, another messed-up tale), loses health insurance. We live off my disability. Narcolepsy gets much worse, repeated horror stories with health insurance/doctor. My weird symptoms increase. Useless. Problems between us. On and on. Got a picture from September 2018. Joey's leg is fine. Then, a lump. Vet gives scary diagnostic opinion. Know Mary is going to lose her mind, her Joey is everything to her. I know. I watch in hidden horror as that lump slowly gets bigger, now it is bothering him. Still happy, very dog. January 2019. Been a okay month, all things considered. Joey is very brave, and hung in there so Mary wouldn't associate Christmas with death. Joey was our Christmas dog, after all. But now, the end of the month, and that lump grows noticeably. He is in pain. And suddenly, just like with Sweetie. He is real sick. I know. So I put on my big-boy Depends, swallow my tongue, and come back to Greytalk. (I've been able to Spock myself into dry eyes up to now, but I can feel the dam ready to burst. Must be brief, finish this, So sorry I am inadequate.) And everyone was so kind, so understanding. I knew you would be, as we all share such times as these. I am ashamed I am not good for such tasks. It is not because we are uncaring. I had a decision to make, the Terrible Algebra of Necessity, and there was help here. I thank you all, more than I can say or show. And so the decision was made, and without further detail, poor Joey passed away from us. I killed him. Mary of course lost her mind with grief, on top of everything else. I tried strength, to help her. Then discovered my grief. And so I have been away too long, making it seem as if I ignore you folk, or don't appreciate your support and help. I am sorry for this. My only explanation is the health issues we both face, and the greatest grief we have ever known.
  10. It is done. Joey Greyhound has left us. Thank you all so much for all your kindness and patience. I will try very hard to get videos on Youtube.
  11. This will take a few minutes (please, hands, please arms, don't fail me now.) Thank you everyone, for caring, and sharing. Always a sad time for anyone who has been owned by a dog. Thus, the title of this thread. We had many variables that had to be factored in, for the best possible solution for Joey. It is after all, for all of us Grey owners, the thing and the whole of the thing. We have had a very rough several years that leave us in a poor financial situation. I had to junk my car. We are both disabled, and apparently much older than when Joey came to stay. Mary is having great difficulty finding help, and my condition progresses. We could not get a tripod around, much as that is the preferred option, nor can we afford it. We know cancer runs in Joey's family, Sweetie Greyhound, Joey's great-uncle I think, also succumbed. Return of the osteo in another limb and metastasizing are highly likely, leading to further suffering and hardship for the whole family. And this is where it gets really miserable. We got the osteo diagnosis on January 26th, last week, and Joey seemed fine all week; happily and adorably demanding walkies, good appetite, little sign of discomfort with the gaba. The only clue was a stiff appearance to the leg (not even a limp) when walking and some hesitance putting his full weight on it; yet he stretched, play-bowed, managed steps easily. A greyt boy. Yesterday, Saturday, I found the nerve and the resolve to call the vet recommended by our vet, who would come to the house and assist with our decision and with cremation options. It would make it easier on all, if such a thing could be possible. She soon called back and we arranged things for this coming Tuesday. The plan was a final weekend, with it getting warmer, and with me trying to go along for one last family walk, gently, around the neighborhood. Joey would have all his favorite foods and treats and to heck with the diet. Our last days together, to prepare us for goodbye. Earlier, Joey happily borked at Mary and demanded his morning walk, forcing her to put her coffee aside and get coats on, leashes ready. It was a good walk, followed as usual by his favorite treat, a nice cup of thick, rich warmed chicken broth, then followed by a comfy snooze with much roaching on mum's pillow. That afternoon after another pleasant stroll, I cooked him a fine meal of brown rice, boiled chicken, mashed green peas and carrots, a dash of brussels sprouts, french-style green beans, and some steak bits. Didn't skimp on the pat-ay, with the eggs on top (sorry, horrible monty python reference.) He yummed that up, crunched some milk bones, and retired to mum's pillow for a quiet snooze. We were going to make this a good weekend for him and for us. Last evening he came out of the bedroom and threw up his supper. Obviously didn't feel so hot. Continued throwing up all nite long, here, there, everywhere. Looking very ill and shaky. Won't take his gaba. Thankfully during the night he would drink some water, but couldn't keep it down. Upchucked one last time early this morning, then rested. When next he drank I severely restricted the amount, and he was able to keep it down. Another nap. Got up, drank a little more, kept that down. Still no interest in food, not even cheese. Still looking shaky and miserable, but improving. More drink, more nap. Currently he doesn't look/act nearly as awful as this morning and is resting comfortably. Called the home-visit vet this afternoon, She is kindly going to alter her schedule and come over Monday afternoon just as soon as she gets through work. I know some won't agree. But I have to play the hand with the cards I am left holding, and Fate always cheats. Thank you all, again, for your support and advice.
  12. Hi all. Sweetiesmum (and now Joeysmum too) here. I am posting under Ray's account because my own account is long gone. Like Ray, I am sorry I haven't posted before now but I know you wonderful people will understand. I am heartbroken over Joey's illness and the decision we will have to make, probably sooner than we want or can cope with. Right now I can't imagine our lives without Joey. I know it has to be done. But it is hard, so hard. He is such a sweet dog. Except when the vet felt the leg tumor our boy has never growled in all the time we've been fortunate enough to have him in our lives. That one time he both growled and yelped. So we know he is in a lot of pain. He never shows it, though. I don't want our boy to suffer . Yes I know he is suffering now but he is still enjoying life. He loves his walkies. He loves snuggling (one of us lies behind him and gently strokes him while he is on the bed). He loves his broth and his treats. And he lives for walkies. I have thought of amputation with maybe some kind of trolley to support his missing leg. But we don't know how to go about that. And would he be happy? We don't know. We want the best for our boy. But this is hard, so hard. We both, Ray and I, feel like we have to kill our child.
  13. Hello everyone, very pleased you enjoyed that little tail tale. Heh. Yes, I have pics. Probably vids, too. And I do wish to share them. But I are slow. Slower than molasses flowing uphill in a polar vortex. One too many knocks to the noggin, I fear. I used to use Photobucket, but have been advised that they now want significant dollars to link or share photos. Someone recommended Flikr or Imgur. Don't know what Flikr is. Went to check out Imgur and came to six months later with 1, 368,221 bookmarks of puppies, dogs, cats, animals, and a load of other stuff. Never did create an account or figure out how to do so. Got a Youtube account, I think, haven't yet figured out how to get vids on. Even with step-by-step instruction, I get lost and frustrated. Very much so, as I used to have vids up there. Don't have a smartphone, mine is of average intelligence and I only learned texting a short while back. No facebook, twitter, nothing. Used to know how to do posting stuff here, but times have changed and I can't concentrate as I used to. So I'm still trying to figure out how to do this. Many apologies, advice & guidance very welcome.
  14. Thank you again, all, for your kind words and concern. I knew most, if not all, would understand from going through it yourselves. Now, I ask your patience as I am completely lost now when it comes to how to do this forum stuff. Reply to each response separately, or just a general response to all? Seems like less bandwidth/space with just one reply. If I need correcting, please let me know. Been a long time. We have been going to this particular vet for some 18 years now. They have always, always been very kind and helpful, even helping us out when money was really tight with free samples of Advantix, and now with extra gaba. It was Sweetie Greyhound's poor tail injury that brought us to them initially, because one of the vets had a grey herself. That injury also brought us to Greytalk all those years ago. I know it says newbie or just whelped over there, but I have been lurking behind the lurkers lo these many years. And so, all things considered, I do trust these vets. After seeing the x-ray, and having several vets concur, we know it is osteo. And he's likely to suffer a fracture as it invades/degrades the bone. And that is the issue. Joey was knocked out after seeing the vet on Monday, a lot of upset and pain (he also bit his tongue as well as banging his leg trying to get back into the car,) so he slept. Didn't want food or water, which is usual when he feels poorly. He did have a bowl of broth (his favorite!) before the vet, but otherwise he just wanted to stay still in his home. That's the big problem with forever homes; we really want them to last forever, but they never do. That's the thing with dogs, and when you have a dog, you understand that is part of the deal. So we love 'em and spoil 'em and rejoice with every minute we have with these magnificent hounds lighting our lives. We cry when they have to leave us, and so strong is the bond these hounds make with us lucky humans, the tears seems as bitter and hot as when we lose a human family member. Joey saved us from our grief of suddenly losing Sweetie, and we have enjoyed every second of his time with us. None of us ever want to say goodbye! But here is our problem, a problem many of you will recognize, and many of you have endured it yourselves. Here we have a hound, a happy, bright, loving hound, who suddenly has this horrible disease. And he may fracture that leg at any time and as time goes on, the likelihood increases. If that happens, we can not transport him to a vet. If that happens while he's out on a walk, we can not carry him. I die for a second inside if he simply yelps from brushing against a sharp thorn, I imagine I would lose my mind if he was screaming in agony from a broken leg. If it were one of you, I'd be all calm, in control, doing first aid, comforting, helping, on top of the situation. Been training for that since I was 15 in Civil Air Patrol, doing search and rescue and survival training and such. Blod, guts; screaming, tears; doesn't faze me, I'll be in control, I'll take good care of you. But this is my baby, and I know I will be useless. As will Mary. So comes the Terrible Algebra of Necessity. I have to decide to kill this otherwise happy dog, still getting around, still enjoying his home-made broth and home cooked meals and great fluffy beds and his yellow fluffy duck. Those big brown eyes, looking to me with trust and love. He doesn't know, nor care. He is living, and happy here with us. And I have to kill him, before his time, because of what is certainly in the future. I can't do it. I have to. I still feel like a murderer for making the decision for Sweetie, and he was suffering and dying in our arms as we made that decision. It was horrible and haunts me to this day. Now it is time again. I have seen posts from other poor souls going through the same thing right now. I know it is part of the deal. We all do, much as we hate to think about it. I can't face the troubles others are facing, and feel like a horrible person because of that. A kind word would help others so much, yet I try and fail, unable to type for the tears. So it is good that Greytalk is here, where stronger people can help those who find themselves overwhelmed and weakened with grief and indecision. The consensus seems to be, and I agree, that it is better to decide a day early than a day late. And yet, with the trauma of the vet visit over, he is happy, wants his walkies, his appetite has returned, he is enjoying life. These hounds deserve the best, because they are the best. How can I know when that 'day early' is here? How am I ever going to do this? Thank you all again, thank you. It helps to have a shoulder to cry on with people who don't say "It's just a dog."
  15. It's so fluffy!!! (This is to distract me a bit.) Years ago, Joey got into the habit of nosing through the grocery bags as they sat on the couch before sorting and storing things. This was because often there would be a squeeky toy among the groceries. And he's a hound. I am pleased to be the great-uncle to two beautiful wee sprogs, named Finley and Keegan. We were going up to visit my brother for Easter with the kids, so Mary got a huge fluffy toy for each of them. The kind that are as big or bigger then the kid themselves. Well, she brought them home and plopped the bags on the couch for sorting where Joey immediately started his investigation, shoving that needle nose deep into each bag and gently trying to extract the fluffy toys. We got him to stop, but he just kept going back, investigating each bag until finally Mary said he wasn't going to stop so she was going to get him his own fluffy toy. And so she did. It was a great, yellow, fluffy duck with orange feet and bill. Yuge, it was. Joey immediately went to the bag, sniffing excitedly, getting that snout into the shopping bag just as far as it would go. He then got the duck out of the bag, tossed it in his mouth a few times, biting here and there looking for the squeeker. Alas, there was no squeeker. So he dropped it on his great, fluffy hound bed and plopped himself down on top of it. Then, with ears up, he sighed happily and settled down for a quick nap. Since then, it has been his pillow. Fluffy duck has since resided at one end of Joey's bed. When he stretches out on his bed he snuggles his head deep into the fluff and snoozes happily with full-blown ETS. He doesn't even care that there was no squeeker. Greyhounds. They do love their comfort.
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