GreyPoopon

Glad he's doing better. Hope he continues to improve and then stays stable for a long long time.

I think Bellatrix has a rubber spine.

I'm sorry. FWIW, Minnie's IBD presented this way, except that she continued to eat. And she was not yet 3, so (presumably) stronger.

Happy Gotcha Day Loca! Your crazy half-sister Betsy sends her best.

I am so very sorry. I remember when Daytona joined your family, and have loved seeing posts about her. There is nothing--nothing--like a senior broodie. Godspeed Daytona.

What an incredibly sad way to lose a precious girl. I am so very sorry. Godspeed Star.

I'm so sorry. She was very pretty, and clearly very personable. Godspeed Martha.

I'm so very sorry. Your lovely girl had the best year of her life with you. I so wish she could have stayed longer.<br /><br />Godspeed Buffy.

I'm so very sorry. Godspeed Jackson.

I'm sorry he's feeling so punk. I hope he hangs on until his medical issues are under control. FWIW, Jessie was diagnosed with kidney disease just over a year ago, and her appetite is incredibly erratic. It's not necessarily that she's not hungry, but that her appetite is very food-specific. We had to give up on low protein foods altogether. For a time, she returned to the kibble that she'd been on, and that her refusal to eat caused us to run the tests that showed her kidneys weren't working well. She recently decided that she'd prefer another kibble. That lasted for a couple of weeks, and now her tastes have changed again. Along the way, we've also been through raw (nope), cooked (maybe), canned (sometimes), and so on. The only thing that has kept her alive this long is that she gets anabolic steroids to increase her appetite. (Plus, of course, stomach protection meds and all sorts of other meds.) In other words, you have to jump through hoops, and unfortunately, he can't tell you what hoops he's using.

Congratulations! Times 2! They're both gorgeous. It sounds like they're settling in well and really enjoying each other (have seen the truck repair thread).

Oh no! Not Gracie, who has brought joy not only to her family, but to all of GT. I am crushed, and I only knew her through GT. I can only imagine how you must feel. My heart goes out to you and your campers. Godspeed Gracie.

I'm so very sorry. It's wonderful that you were able to take her in. I wish she'd been able to stay longer. Godspeed Daisy.

Both Pink and Poppy have done Agility. Pink (11) has been having trouble staying sound, so she's not currently training. Poppy (7) briefly got totally fried (scared herself by going over a teeter that she wasn't ready for), but is now back on track. She can do all the obstacles at full height except the teeter (we're getting there) and the weaves (still using a short set with wires). She probably could compete, but I don't want to get that serious. We're just having a lot of fun, and I'm learning more about handling. Maybe when (if) I have fewer dogs we'll do more.

I'm so sorry. Godspeed Moe.

How unbearable it must be to lose both of your remaining puppers so close together. I am so very sorry. Godspeed Sully. Godspeed Sebau.

I'm so very sorry. She was a lovely little sprite. Godspeed Rosie.

Sometimes life just isn't fair. Dixie served her industry well as a racer and broodmom for over 9 years. She should have enjoyed a long and comfortable retirement. But she was felled by OS after less than two years. This is about a wonderful friendly goofy dog who left far too soon. Racer and Broodmom Kiowa Secret Sue (Sue) raced at Wheeling for almost two years. There are 46 races in greyhound-data. When she finished racing, she started having puppies. There are currently 40 puppies from 5 litters listed on both greyhound-data and TrackInfo. More may appear at some point--she'd had a litter not long before retiring. In January 2011, 9-year-old Sue arrived at GRA Canada. I noticed her as soon as her name was added to the list. I have a weakness for senior broodies. And this one had my name on her. A few days later, Bill of GRA called me about her. He told me that Sue was a wonderful sweet girl who acted more like a four year old. He said that if I came to visit her, I wouldn't be leaving without her. I turned him down flat. I already had more dogs than I'd intended. But that didn't stop me from looking at her photo, posted that day. Or checking her greyhound-data page and noticing that she was bred a couple of times to Jimbo Scotty, who was Piper's main man, and thus Poppy's father. I kept watching the list. With every update, I found myself half-hoping she was still there. She gradually moved closer to the top after others were adopted, but she remained available. By March, I was teetering. I found a spot into which I could cram one more crate. I checked at school, and discovered that I could get her started right away. I asked at the clinic, and was told there was an appointment available for a new pet exam. I caved. I arranged to "visit" on March 13. The first sight of her gave me a shock. She bore a startling resemblance to Piper (Cee Bar Easy), whom I'd lost in January 2010: tall, long, narrow, similar colouring, big dark eyes in a white face, same just-washed-em-and-can't-do-a-thing-with-them ears... Dixie, November '11: Also November '11: I hoped that I would soon see the differences between Sue and Piper. Other than the shock, the first meeting went well. She was very friendly and kissy. As Bill had predicted, I did not leave without her. Retiree The first order of business was to find a new name: I wasn't going to call her Sue, which is a diminutive of my name, one which I hate. I like the name Dixie, and since she was a southern girl and the 10th dog in the house, it fit. She was a bit tense at first, but soon adapted to retirement. She fit in very well here. She was the friendliest greyhound ever. She loved people, and she was a total flirt. If she spied someone while on a walk, her head would go up and her stride would become more purposeful. As she got closer, she'd start tossing her head and waving her tail. Sometimes she would tremble with excitement. Everybody she met was her best friend ever. She would happily cover them with kisses. If she couldn't reach the face she'd kiss their hands; if their hands were out of reach she'd lick their clothes. Little kids were perfect because their faces were at the right height. Whenever we greeted someone who didn't know her, I'd make sure they were warned that she was a kisser. Fortunately for her, most of the people we saw did not object. I called her my "Lab in a Greyhound Suit". She would even kiss on request. I often asked her to kiss me. At the end of one of her last visits to the clinic, I asked if she were going to give her vet a kiss. The vet bent lower and stuck her chin out. Dixie kissed her. When Dixie first arrived, she also gave hugs. She tended to hit one's chest instead of shoulders, which made it especially hard to tolerate. I taught her not to hug others, but I always had to keep an eye on her in case she got so excited that she forgot herself. When she was in Grade 1, she learned to sit to greet. I didn't ask her to do that outside of school, but sometimes she would surprise me by doing it anyway, as she did for the neighbour holding my crew for a family photo shoot (from left, Graham, Dixie, Jessie, and Cal; November '11): I had originally intended that after I'd taught her not to hug, I'd retrain her to hug me on command. That plan lasted until the day she caught me off-guard and almost sent me through the front window, which is not at ground level. Then I was more insistent that she not hug me either. A little too convincing, unfortunately, since I was later unable to get her to hug me. She liked other dogs as well. She always greeted them politely. At home, she was an excellent snuggler. On her last afternoon, Cal tucked in behind her (January '13): She loved her walks. She was paired with Cal. They walked extremely well together. For the first several weeks, they were almost in a perfect heel. After that they relaxed, but they almost always stayed on my left and were often side-by-side, even when Cal was recovering from the FCE and sprain that left her a two-legged dog for a bit (November '11): She was an avid hunter. At first, I had to be very aware of squirrels--even those 100' or more away--to ensure that she didn't rip my arm out. She gradually realized that there was no need to react. I was also concerned about her prey drive in the yard in case she didn't see the fence or decided to jump it, so it was at least a month before she was allowed to be loose. One day when I was taking photos of all the dogs, she was stuck on the deck, longingly surveying her new domain (March '11): She was very smart and learned very quickly. I taught her to bow on command with just a few repetitions. She then used that bow to extract treats. Early on, when I was rewarding frequently, she'd come in from pottying and quickly repeat bow-treat over and over. I eventually tired of the game; she soon realized that it wasn't working any more and went back to waiting for the command. But if another dog got a "good bow" or "good sit", she would race to wherever we were and join the lineup of dogs performing for treats. She taught herself how to use the dog bells. I'd hung them early in 2012, but did very little to train the dogs because they tend to go out at particular times, and when one goes, the others usually follow. Despite the lack of instruction, Dixie figured it out. If she thought I wasn't paying attention when she went near the door, she'd ring the bell. She was the first--and for a long time the only--dog to use the bells. She was very playful. She loved stuffies. She'd reach into the toy box (a laundry basket)--often stepping into it with one or both front feet--grab a toy, play for a bit, then dive back into the box for another. When Betsy resumed her old tendency to consume stuffies, I had to leave the toys out of reach except when I could supervise. Dixie would make do with something from the bone box (Graham in the background; November '12): While Dixie was lying on the chesterfield beside me, she would ask for attention by putting a foot on my leg. When I was willing, she would play fight with me--flailing her front feet and chomping in my direction--always with care not to paw hard or get close with her teeth. She loved to run. She'd start with a few loops. Once she'd burned off the initial energy, she'd run figure 8's. Then she'd do a lot of pausing--sudden stops to sniff followed by equally sudden starts. Running loops (November '12): The best photo I have of her running (November '12): It was fortunate that she loved to run on her own. Her favourite play buddy was Pink (Dixie left and Pink right; July '11): But one or the other was usually lame, so there were few sessions and none recently. She was a master roacher. She also roached for tummy rubs, especially if I'd been petting her and stopped. I called the resulting pose her chicken chest, which she did even a few days before the end (January '13): She was also a major nester. And she had the greyhound law of physics down to an art--she could spread out over an incredible stretch of dog bed, or curl herself in a tiny ball at the back of a 42" crate. Sometimes, the fit wasn't so good. I have photos of her trying to stuff herself into a too-small Perla bed and into the kiddie pool, both of which she eventually mastered. I also have a lot of photos of her half on top of another dog. It was usually one of the other greys. She didn't often attempt or get away with landing on top of Minnie (Perry, Dixie, Minnie; May '12): The wallpaper on my phone is a photo of her half on top of Cal. I guess I'm going to have to change it soon. Again. The previous photo, changed in November, was of Edie. Like the other four senior broodies that I've had the honour of bringing home, she was remarkably tolerant of handling. Whatever I needed to do, or the clinic required, she would accept. She might not like it, but she'd acquiesce. She was, in fact, a lot like Piper. But I never had trouble distinguishing Dixaroo-who from my memories of Stripey-Pipey. Oddly enough for such a tolerant dog, she was involved in the only two biting incidents we've had here. The first occurred when Minnie was having a seizure and she attempted to tug Minnie away. A 45 pound adult cannot be pulled by the leg without causing some damage, and Minnie ended up with a couple of punctures. The other was a minor tiff over a bone that I somehow missed when cleaning up. The other dog involved must have swung her head with her mouth open and caught Dixie with her canines. Because I didn't see the puncture, it got badly infected. Something about the treatment of that wound set off an allergic reaction that caused her entire face to balloon. Things were pretty scary for a bit. Her major weakness was her sensitivity to loud noises. Thunder turned her into a shivering ball. Fireworks were no better. She would not eat or move or potty until hours after the noise had ended. She was distressed by other sounds as well--construction equipment, banging dumpster lids...anything loud and unpleasant. She was far less enthusiastic about her morning walk than the other jaunts because that was when she most often heard rumbling and banging dumpsters. But mostly, she was a lot of fun and a total goof. I once did an entire post of her in silly poses (September '11): I even had a little nonsense rhyme I'd use to signal a walk or a trip to school or other fun stuff: "Pick up sticks, Miss Dix." The Premature End In early December--just a week after her 11th birthday--I noticed that she was occasionally a little off on the right front leg. This was a surprise, since she'd previously only had trouble with the left front, and that only since late Spring. On Saturday December 8, she was very lame during her morning walk. I hoped that it was just some odd stiffness. I had to work that morning, so she had a chance to rest. She was even more lame at lunchtime. I cut the walk short and took her to the clinic. The vet--not our usual--did not like Dixie's reaction to the examination and recommended an x-ray. When she saw the view of the right shoulder, she decided to x-ray the left before commenting. The second x-ray caused her to say, "Well, that's interesting." There was an area of lower density on the humerus of the right (lame) leg. It was not clear whether it was OS (osteosarcoma) or "just old dog bone". The left humerus had a weird line that looked like photocopied highlighter. Her tentative conclusion, based not on the x-ray but her clinical findings (the location and degree of pain), was that there might be OS in the right; it might even be bilateral. When I spoke to our regular vet on Monday the 10th, she was not concerned about the left, and not convinced about the right. I was going to opt for pain management in any event, so time was not critical. We arranged that she would examine Dixie on Friday. She found that the pain was fairly diverse, and was hopeful that it was just a soft-tissue problem. A week later she repeated the x-ray and did not see much change. But she seemed less positive, and the original vet, who was there as well, seemed strained. The limping got worse despite an anti-inflammatory and restricted activity. We added another pain medication; then, because it might have been a soft tissue problem, a muscle relaxant. By Monday January 7, the lesion on the right was larger and more ominous. We tried an antibiotic in case it was an infection, although neither of us believed that it was. We also increased the dosage of the second medication. By Wednesday we were at the maximum dosage of all three meds and Dixie was even more lame. She was still bright and playful in the house--she was in the toybox when I got home Wednesday night--but I knew the pain occurred even at rest because that afternoon she screamed while lying quietly on the chesterfield. We started a fourth medication. It did nothing, so on Thursday we increased the dosage dramatically. Still no improvement. When I was at the clinic with another dog on Friday morning, my vet asked what was happening, and I said, "It's time." We made the appointment for that afternoon. When she was taken downstairs to have the catheter inserted, both the vet and one of the techs noticed that the right shoulder looked bigger; there was a prominence on the front of the left as well. I'd noticed both. Her OS may well have been bilateral. February '12: November '12: She made it to age 11, but she had yet to reach her second Gotcha Day. When she left, she took some of the liveliness, goofiness, and warmth in this house with her. She was indeed a wonderful sweet girl who acted more like a four year old. And she barely had a chance to enjoy her well-earned retirement. Sometimes life just isn't fair. Kiowa Secret Sue Racer. Broodmom. Retiree. November 25, 2001 - January 11, 2013 Godspeed Dixie

I'm so sorry. Godspeed Gary.

I'm so sorry. Godspeed Keystone.

I'm in agreement with Batmom--more of the same if she'll eat it. Glad that's what you're going to try.

I'm so sorry. My sympathies to her family as well. Godspeed Stella/Stubby/Stubs.

I'm so very sorry. She was much too young. Godspeed Queenie.