GreytNut

January 28, 2022. He was such a good boy. Safe even with little critters like small birds. Even at the end he was sweet and snuggly. Nothing bothered him. He wasn't very bright (we laughed with him but also kinda at him...) but he had a huge heart and a happy smile. He was so grateful for a home to enjoy his senior years.

We lost Penguin to osteo.

Assuming it's legal where you are, CBD (cannabidiol) may be of significant relief. It's not only for humans. It can be used for pets. You would want to consult with your veterinarian and with the vendor regarding the type of product and dosage for your greyhound.

That sucks. The vet said she once managed to keep a dog with IMHA alive for 2 weeks at the owner's insistance. She felt that it was 2 weeks too long. It's horrifying that the immune system can just spontaneously decide to eat all of an animal's red blood cells. Poor Q went from happy to dying in no time, just like Little Girl. Penguin is hanging in there. I think it helped that he was able to be with Q at the end and wasn't left anxiously waiting for his buddy to come home. He whimpered a little today and has been extra clingy but he also enjoyed some cuddling and watching the fish aquariums. He'll be OK with time. If it had been the other way around Q would probably not fare as well.

We suddenly lost Q. He had only been home for a couple of months. He stopped eating, became listless and his skin felt hot. We were concerned enough to take him to the vet if he wasn't better by morning, but when he peed brown urine we took him to the emergency vet. His skin and the whites of his eyes had turned yellow and his gums were pale. It was something we'd never heard of called IMHA (Immune Modulated Hemolytic Anemia). His immune system had suddenly gone bonkers and was slaughtering red blood cells by the billions. His liver and kidneys were shutting down and he was so weak from anemia that he just lay down on the floor at the vet's office and didn't move even though he was getting poked like a pincushion. They had a terrible time getting a blood sample because his veins had collapsed. When we got his blood tests back the vet suggested at least one blood transfusion but probably several more, immunosuppressive drugs, antibiotics in case it was caused by a tick-borne disease, blood thinners and fluids. However the chance of survival given his poor condition was very, very slim and she didn't think that even such aggressive treatment would realistically buy him more than a day. I looked at my dog lying miserably on the floor staring off into space and made the decision to let him go. His veins had already further deteriorated and they had to resort to using his jugular to euthanize him. The only other option was a heart stick. Poor Q Bert. This is a sample of his blood on a slide, watery thin on one side and coagulated on the other. It's the result of too few living blood cells left overall, with bunches of exploded blood cells glued together in clots. As someone with an interest in herpetology and venom toxinology, I recognized it on sight. The same thing happens when blood reacts to hemotoxic venom from vipers like rattlesnakes. In this case our local rattlesnake population is still underground for winter, so it was something from inside Q. Maybe genetic, maybe an infection, maybe a response to cancer like hemangiosarcoma. We don't know. Penguin was with his brother and stood by him. He understood what happened. He knew Q was very sick and we gave him a chance to say goodbye at the end. It seemed to be of comfort to both of them to have him there. They were very close and Q was dependent on Penguin for moral support. Q was a snuggly boy who loved nothing better than to cuddle on the couch or in bed with his humans. It didn't matter how much or how little room there was. He viewed it as a game of Tetris, fitting himself into whatever configuration was necessary for maximum dog-to-human contact. He wasn't here long but we sure loved him. Both hounds were about 8 when we adopted them and we knew that's an age when things can start to go sideways (especially with cancer) but we don't regret adopting Q or Penguin. They were bounces who needed to be a package deal and deserved to be loved whether it was a few months or several years. Hopefully Penguin will be with us for a long time, with his little brother watching him from afar.

Aventurine - Ave or Ava Carnelian - Carny? Morganite - Morgan Tiger Eye - Tiger Rose Quartz - Rose Snowflake Obsidian - Snowflake Azurite - Azure Selenite - Selena Sunstone - Sunny Agate - Aggie I named a foster Jasper. He was a big red boy.

This is an old thread but it's worth bringing back up. I prefer to use slip leads for walking, specifically Mendota 1/2" slip leads with a leather stop. The stop keeps the loop from hanging loose or falling off when slack, and if they try to back out of it the slip lead will tighten as much as it needs to. I had a spook named Raven who was nicknamed "The Rubber Dog." She could pop out of even a snug martingale collar like it was nothing. She wriggled out of a 5 point Roman harness in 3 seconds flat. The only thing she could not escape was a slip lead.

Ah, more comes out. The family who surrendered them said that Penguin was not safe with children. This made me go, "Say what?! That dude is a big squishy marshmallow." The only time I have witnessed Penguin utter even a murmur of discontent was when Q stepped over him. Penguin is the boss man and he doesn't like having his subordinate stand or step over him. This is normal canine behavior. And all he did was grumble like a grumpy codger telling that darned kid to get off his lawn. It would appear that he had the audacity to complain at an 18 month old toddler crawling all over him. That's not a bad dog. In fact I think both he and Q have the makings of therapy dogs, particularly Penguin if I can get them obedience trained. He has a gentleness, serenity and a natural charisma that draws people straight to him. Q will easily learn new commands. Penguin is a little slower and I might have a harder time teaching him but I think he can learn given time and patience. Both are food motivated so that's an advantage. Got to find my clicker. They passed their initial cat tests with flying colors but I decided to wait until they'd settled in a bit and their true colors started to peek out before I introduced them to the resident cats. Last night we brought out Bailey, the elderly Russian blue who loves him some greyhounds. Dogs were muzzled at first. He sat on my lap on the couch and didn't budge when Penguin came over. Penguin gently sniffed him and then licked his head before moving on. Bailey hissed at Q when he approached. Q showed a lot more interest in the cat and Bailey had his number. He is not high prey though. He's easily distracted from the cat and seems to want to play more than eat. Still, he reached over and tried to ever-so-covertly nip Bailey just to see what kind of reaction he would get. The reaction was immediate, brutal and involved the use of claws. I think Q got the memo. I wouldn't leave him alone with a cat at this point but Q is certainly cat correctable. As for Penguin, a cat could do a tap dance on his head and he wouldn't care. This is Bailey with "his" greyhound Finn. We also found collars for them. One actually has penguins on it and guess who gets it? It may look a bit strange on him in the summer when temps top 100F but.... The other will look smashing on Q. I also thought this collar would look great but DH thought it was too busy. It is busy, but I still think it would look great on either of them.

I kinda think it was. They lost their home at the same time we lost our hounds sooooo....

Q, Lord of the Couch. Man, that thing has seen better days. The couch, I mean. The dog is most definitely fine.

They are really relaxing. It's like they've lived here forever and own the place. Penguin just plops his butt wherever he is most in the way. He has trouble understanding the concept of moving out of the way to avoid accidents, mayhem and toppling humans too. He doesn't know which direction to go so he stands there frozen like a deer in the headlights until you physically move him where he needs to be. He's ever so sweet and gentle but not the brighter of the pair. Those eyes could melt butter though. Q has become Lord of the Couch, though he only gets up on it when I invite him up with me or he sees that I am about to sit down. He no longer worries about having his babies up there as long as 1) I am present to keep him company and 2) they are where he can keep a watchful eye on them. He is the brains of the pair and you can bet that if any trouble occurs he was the instigator. He pulled a My Pillow that I dearly loved out of the laundry basket and gutted it, spraying memory foam like snowflakes all over the house. Then he sat at ground zero of the blizzard covered with the evidence of his crime and grinned with pride. He didn't even try to blame it on the cats. The SA has improved but it's not gone. Q can now handle us being home but in a different part of the house. When he thinks we've completely left the house he still bays. Once he really gets going Penguin cannot help but join in rooing and you can hear them from outer space. Hoping to get some snow zoomie pics tomorrow. The weather was inhumane for a while. With Penguin it may be more like coerced snow hops than zoomies but we'll take what we can get. He is losing weight but he's got a way to go yet before he really feels like running.

I will give it the old college try catching Q on video rounding up his babies because it's adorable. He doesn't do it... well, on cue *groan*. The very first time he did it I was asleep and DH told me what had happened. We have dead fleas. Victory! Penguin and Q both were entranced by the fish at first but quickly got used to them. Every so often something exciting happens in a tank and they tune in to watch the action. They seem to regard the fish as curiosities but don't show any signs of wanting to turn them into sushi. We have a few very aggressive and toothy specimens who would quickly dissuade them if they were unlucky enough to somehow get their noses into the tank. No one wants an Arowana or a Red Devil attached to his face.

I keep thinking of Ps and Qs too. We have fleas! Dog fleas aren't normally a thing in South Dakota. It gets way below zero in the winter and they can't survive it. My guess is that they either came from TN (where their family had moved to) with fleas or they picked them up in the greyhound hauler the group hired to retrieve them along with a group of dogs from WV. I only noticed them because I saw one dart through Penguin's white hair while petting him. Then another. That prompted a quick application of Frontline to both boys. We don't need fleas in the house, on them and the cats or on highly allergic me. I have a single flea bite on my foot and it's the size of an Eggo waffle.

They seem to be settling right in. Q's separation anxiety is improving. He also LOVES snow. Penguin shocked me in that I don't think he looks very plump in photos either. But when I saw him in person he looked a bit like a Labrador retriever with a greyhound head grafted on. It's OK. He's already losing weight. DH chases him around the yard, which is what I did with Tiny. This gets Q going and he joins in the fun playing the "Catch the Penguin" game. Penguin enjoys having so much attention but after just a few seconds he's huffing and puffing and you can almost hear him saying, "OK, that's enough, guys. Really, that's enough." Q solved a dilemma he had, which was how to join me on the couch when he can't relax without his stuffie "babies." He gets a baby, puts in on my lap for safekeeping and goes back for the other one. He plops it into my lap as well. Then he hops up and reaches over to retrieve his babies. I am flattered that he trusts me to hold his babies for him. Penguin doesn't get up on the couch. He lies close by, just chilling and watching me with those giant peepers. Not sure if he physically cannot climb up or if it's just not something he does. But he seems content just to be close.

...but you might get what you need. We recently lost Finn and Lora. The house was empty and depressing. We asked the adoption coordinator for a young single hound that could live alone. Enter Q and Penguin, 2 senior boys who were bounced when their family had kids. They are completely Super Glued together and were not to be separated. Alrighty then. DH was frustrated at first but our adoption coordinator has great instincts and they were cat safe so I said, "Sure, let's roll with it." DH's frustration turned to mush when he met them. Penguin is a huge white boy with a brindle patch on his eye and speckles on his ears. He is super fat. He doesn't gasp for breath like Tiny did when he first came home, but he's certainly fluffy. We had to postpone dog door training because the poor dude got stuck. He has enormous soulful Gable Dodge eyes and is quiet, sweet and gentle. He exudes serenity. Q is a big black lean machine with a few snowflakes. He is sweet and a bit insecure. He follows Penguin wherever he goes and has stuffed animals that he cuddles. He doesn't play with them. He just cuddles them and he can't sleep without his dollies. He has a bit of SA but it's getting better. Sometimes the boys snuggle together and it's enough to make you all squishy. They snore and fart like a couple of old men.

Thank you!

Would you mind looking at L the Penguin and his buddy Essentialquality?

Lora is gone. We lost Finn 2 days before due to osteosarcoma. Lora's idea of coping with this was to tear apart her bed and eat about 2 pounds of polyester stuffing. Muzzled, no less. I got her to vomit it out. Oy, that was a night. The next day I tried to encourage her to drink and to eat a little. No dice. Off to the vet we went, where it appeared that she was OK other than being severely dehydrated. She got sub-q fluids and felt better. That night she begged for some French fries. I handed them over. I didn't care, as long as she ate. She insisted that they be fed to her by hand, one at a time. Fine. Done. She even ate a dollop of peanut butter and drank some clear chicken broth. It looked like she was on the mend. We snuggled. She enjoyed some ear rubbies. Later she bloated. It was pretty obvious right away what was happening. She died on the way to the vet. I thought I had caused the bloat by feeding her too soon but the adoption coordinator for our group--also a veterinary surgical tech--thinks there was a blockage from the stuffing that got missed. Lora was goofy, wiggly and happy. She never lost that youthful exuberance. Her tail was a deadly weapon. She loved to sneak up on you, which is why her pajamas had butterflies with cherry blossoms for wings on them despite my aversion to the color pink. Everyone knows ninjas attack under cherry trees, right? She was a tiny thing, able to walk underneath her taller brothers. You could fit her in your pocket. Actually, she would have loved being able to ride in our pockets. Tiny as she was, she was very pushy and assertive and worked her way to the top of the pack. She wasn't a bully. She was just somehow always first in line for everything. More ninja moves. Her small size, cuteness, mosquito nose and propensity for sticking that nose into everything you were doing earned her the nickname "Bug" and she wore collars with ladybugs and garden insects on them. That adorability and her soulful "You can't possibly be mad at me," puppy eyes got her out of a lot of trouble. For the first time in 16 years there are no greyhounds in the house. It's like the opposite of being haunted... it's completely empty in here. It's silent and joyless. It used to frustrate me that I could never move from Point A to Point B without being blocked by a dog, but now that I can move freely it's just... weird. And the silence.

We're down to 0. Started a thread for Lora too.

Lora is messed up more than I thought she was over Finn. She tore apart her bed yesterday while I was gone and ate the stuffing, even with her muzzle on. She ate a LOT of it. I am worried that she might not make it. She has never done anything like that before and she loved that bed, so I think it was grief. We induced vomiting and the vet thinks we got it out as no blockage was apparent but she was badly dehydrated and looks like her skin is loose over her skeleton. He gave her fluids and I took her home but she doesn't want to eat or drink anything. She just lies there. It's like she gave up. We may go from 3 to 0 after this run.

We lost Finn (Atascocita Agust) to osteosarcoma. We knew it was coming fairly soon but it was still a nasty shock when I found him after he failed to return from a quick bathroom trip. He had collapsed and died at the foot of the garage stairs. He had lost most of his appetite and was getting progressively thinner and weaker but still enjoyed treats and snuggles. He still was trying to take care of me. When Finn the big red dog came home after a long and accomplished racing career, he needed another job. He looked at me and decided that I was the most helpless human being that he had ever encountered. Obviously he had to do something about that. That something was to follow me everywhere to make sure that I didn't fall or otherwise injure myself while dizzy and dumb from medication. It was also to snuggle with me on the couch and bed to make sure that I was both warm and couldn't go anywhere without his knowledge, seeing as I was pinned underneath an 80 lb. dog. If I had trouble getting up he would stand in front of me and let me use him as a balance bar until I was steady. Keeping an eye on me. Someone has to. Making very certain that he has me pinned, lest I do something silly like try to get up without his professional assistance. It's a tough job. Our crazy Russian blue cat Bailey adored Finn and constantly groomed him. After they came to an understanding that said grooming was *not* to include nibbling, Finn put up with it. Sometimes I suspect he even enjoyed it but he never let on, instead projecting an air of long-suffering tolerance. Alas, Bailey loved Finn rather more than Finn loved him. When we went for walks Finn kept himself between me and other people or dogs, regarding them with an appraising eye and deciding if they were OK. He guarded the door with vigilance. We didn't train him to do any of this, but he more or less functioned as a service dog. We nicknamed him "Dr. Finn, Medicine Dog." We didn't have any medicine to fix him though.

Yup, that worked. We hit the Reset button. Dogs lost bedroom privileges for several days. One of the cats, Bailey, has a habit of running out the bedroom door whenever it opens. It's a game. We couldn't have that so he went downstairs with DH to be his office assistant. After that we brought Bailey back up and reintroduced Finn--the mellower of the two--for the night. All went well. Bailey was pleased to have his pillow / grooming subject back. The next night we let Lora in. After a couple of corrections she too was fine. So we're good! Here's Bailey "helping" DH work.

Finn and Lora have been living well with the cats for quite some time. In fact cats and dogs alike pile onto the bed at night. Bailey loves to groom the dogs and often uses them as pillows. Then a mouse skittered into the bedroom. Dogs and cats both went after it. The mouse jumped into a box and Squeak the Maine Coon mix took a flying leap in after it, overturning the box. A battle to the death ensued inside the box while the hounds barked and pawed at it. When Squeak emerged victorious, things had changed. The dogs went after *her.* She sailed onto the cat tree to escape them. Then they turned on Bailey, who hid under the bed. Somehow in their minds the prey in the box became associated with the pursuing cat in the box. Suddenly cat = prey. I had to boot the dogs out of the bedroom because they kept chasing and harassing the cats. Now the cats are afraid of the dogs and are acting like prey, which of course is exactly the wrong message to send. So... we want to get everyone living in harmony again. This means the dogs have to stop chasing the cats and the cats have to stop acting like prey to be chased in order to break the cycle. Any ideas?

The birthday giver found out by accident. DH posted on Facebook that Sarge had died. No details. But she remembered that I had called to ask precisely what was in the package she sent and had asked for ingredients if she knew them. She's not stupid and put 2 and 2 together. "OMG I killed your dog!" No, honey, you did not. You sent a thoughtful gift. I was stupid and careless and the dog got the package. I accept full responsibility. No guilt on your end. That was what I said to her and it's true. The real pisser is that we're going to lose Finn too. He has osteosarcoma. It's fast and it's aggressive. Enough death. We're full up here.

We lost our sweet old goofball. Sarge was also known around these parts as Cheese Dog because he had ears that flipped forward and looked like little cheese triangles when he was interested in something. He wasn't known for his smarts like some of the hounds we've had, but he made up for it with extra cuddliness. He was a big squishy love sponge. He never, ever tired of petting. Your hand would fall off before he could get enough pets. He loved armpit snuggles and ear rubs. Unfortunately for all of us DH received a birthday gift through UPS. We had no idea what was in it because it was... well, a surprise gift. Since DH was on a business trip I set the package aside for him to open when he got home and thought no more of it. I found Sarge lying dead on his side this morning. He was stretched out with congealed blood visible underneath the skin on his belly. His gums were white, his tongue was white and he had foamed at the mouth. It probably goes without saying that I was shocked, confused and stricken. I couldn't figure out what on earth had happened to him. It looked like he had suffered some kind of internal bleeding. Then I noticed that the package was not on the table. I went looking for it and found it chewed open and empty in the dog run. He had stolen the box, opened it and eaten whatever was inside. A call to the well-meaning sender revealed that she had given DH a bunch of black tea, dark chocolate covered coffee beans and some "really good raspberry candy"... sweetened with Xylitol. Any one of those could have killed him and he snarfed the whole damned lot. I did not tell her that this killed our dog and neither DH nor I will ever mention it to her. It would have been pointless and cruel to say so when all she meant was to send a birthday treat. It was entirely, 100% my own stupid fault for leaving the box within reach. It simply never occurred to either me or DH that there were edibles in there, much less toxic edibles. Mea culpa. I was a dumbass. And Sarge just did what he always did, which was seek and destroy all tasty items. Public Service Announcement: If you receive a gift package and don't know what's in it, do not leave it anywhere within your dog's possible reach. PSA #2: Black tea contains caffeine and tannins, both of which are toxic to dogs. Dark chocolate covered coffee beans contain theobromine and caffeine, both of which are toxic to dogs. Candy or *anything* from chewing gum to mouthwash that is sweetened with Xylitol kills dogs dead. If there's any silver lining at all it's that I know he richly enjoyed his pilfered treasures. But that's very cold comfort considering the price he paid for it.