Remembering Oreo: Three Years Ago Today

[KF_in_Georgia]

Oreo was my first dog...ever. I was single, in my late 40s, living alone in a condo, and I wanted a dog. I wanted a companion, but I wasn't interested in the idea of a little lap dog. And I didn't want a dog that needed a "job" (Aussie, Border Collie). I wanted a couch potato--like me...interested in walks, but not needing lots of running room or lots of "wearing out" at the end of the day.

 

Then Animal Planet aired the Breed All About It episode about Maggie McCurry and Go, the greyhound.

 

That did it. I did my breed research and found a local adoption group. On 17 November 2001, I went out to them. Filled out paperwork. Looked at the dogs. Chose one.

 

Why Oreo? Well, she was a bounce. She appeared to be in better shape than the off-the-track dogs, and I thought a dog who had lived in a home would be a good starter dog for a new dog-owner. It never occurred to me that she might have issues that triggered the bounce; just as well, though: she was a wonder dog for a new owner.

 

We think Oreo might have been MPS Theresa. Oreo's ear tats were unreadable on several digits, but the readable "117G" and the requirement that the dog be black with tuxedo markings narrowed the paper search quite a bit. MPS Theresa looked like a good match. If that's right, then Oreo was 3 days shy of her fourth birthday when I adopted her. She had a dismal 6-race racing career ("bumped twice," "crowded early," "muzzle loose," "no threat," etc.).

 

At my house, she settled in nicely. She didn't like obedience training--she'd go lie down in a corner when I tried to work with her--until she met clicker training, which she adored. (And she forever-after greeted the course trainer by sniffing the trainer's pockets.) She didn't try to get on my bed, but contentedly slept on hers in my bedroom. (Actually, I slept on the downstairs sofa her first two weeks, until she learned the spiral stairs.) I boosted her onto the sofa her first night and she just leaped over the back--didn't like the footing. She wasn't interested in the crate I got her, but she was willing to be confined in a smallish area; later she was muzzled and had the run of the house.

 

My first picture of Oreo.

 

That later was because of Sam. Oreo had been such a wonderful dog, that I was looking for a second greyhound less than a year after I brought her home. She and I fostered three boys before Sam. (Oreo wanted to be a dominant female, so I was advised not to bring another female into Oreo's house.) Oreo was fine with the boys, let them eat from her bowl if they wanted, behaved nicely with them on walks.

 

But Sam was the foster that didn't leave. He was half Oreo's age, fearless, brainless, incorrigible. Sam wouldn't be confined--he'd torn up a crate at his first foster home, and he consistently climbed out of x-pens at mine--so he had to be left loose, muzzled (with a poop guard). That meant giving Oreo more room, too, and I muzzled her so she wouldn't have an unfair advantage if there was a scrap. The first day she was muzzled, I came home, took off both dogs' muzzles, and Oreo whipped around and grabbed Sam's ear in her teeth. He just stood there, wide-eyed--having lost part of an ear in some incident before I got him. I suspect Sam had been harrassing Oreo during the day--figuring that the muzzle would save him--and she was just reminding him that muzzles come off--eventually. She let go a moment later and didn't leave a mark on him.

 

Sam never met a sofa that wasn't his. Same thing with people beds. At this point, Oreo decided she'd like to be a sofa-dog, too. And a mom's-bed-dog. Fine with me.

 

Oreo roached contentedly. She'd stick one front leg out for balance. If you gently folded that leg down to her body, the other front leg would pop out to keep her balance.

 

Oreo was a smiler--a huge smile, wrinkled nose, and propeller tail. She liked grown-ups, but used to hide behind me if there were noisy kids around. Her ears didn't stand up when she was interested in something; instead, they swiveled forward. I loved it.

 

Oreo was great at meet and greets, until after Sam had been around for a while. At that point...maybe she was worried that I'd find another dog to bring home, one that would be a threat to her, but she started to bark and growl--hackles up--anytime there was another large dog around, greyhound or not. And Sam was so high prey that nothing but grown greyhounds were safe with him. And I had to change jobs, and the new job meant I worked weekends--prime meet-and-greet time--so the meet and greets came to an end. Oreo and Sam got along well together--food being the one thing that could spark a disagreement once Sam discovered that Oreo was more bark than bite--with him, at least.

 

On 29 March 2006, I came home from work and greeted both dogs. Then I went out to the car to get the groceries. While I was there, Oreo screamed.

 

When I went back in, Oreo was standing in the middle of the living room floor, on three legs, with her front right leg swinging free. She'd broken the humerus bone. (Later, I wondered if Sam might have been doing zoomies, and Oreo could have stepped in front of him without seeing him coming. I'll never know.)

 

I got Sam into his car harness and into the car. (Sam wasn't a stay-home-alone dog.) I backed the car out of the carport, turned it around, left the passenger door open, and went back in. Oreo had moved some in the living room--probably hopping along, poor baby. I carried her to the car and put her in the front seat--her usual place to ride. Normally, she'd lie down; for this trip, she sat and tried to hold her balance with just three functional legs--and my hand for help.

 

On the whole trip to the ER (this was 7 at night), I cried. I'd been on enough greyhound message boards to know that dogs don't generally break their legs in their own living rooms. I was thinking osteosarcoma. After they took Oreo into the back, the e-vet came to ask some questions, and I mentioned the "O-word" first.

 

Eventually, we had x-rays--and no sign of cancer! It was a nasty spiral fracture, and would need a pin implanted to heal properly. They sent Sam and me home after I got to see Oreo, who they'd finally persuaded to lie down. She was panting and whimpering, casted to her shoulder, and didn't seem at all aware of me when I spoke to her.

 

Early the next morning, I was back at the ER. In the same building as the ER is a veterinary surgeon. I'd heard of the doctor--he'd done excellent surgery on friends' dogs--and I met with him and we discussed surgery for Oreo. Go in, implant a pin, should heal well, gonna cost a fortune (of course). "Fine," I said. What else do you do? I wanted to see Oreo, but they were reluctant to let me in. They'd had a hard time getting her to settle down during the night, and they didn't want her disturbed. I got a peek from across the room--I'll never forget the neon green vet wrap--but she shifted her weight and tried to get up, yelped, and I got out of there before she could see me. That was my last look at her.

 

In the surgery that afternoon, they got the pin implanted. Then Oreo started having trouble. She wasn't getting oxygen into her blood, even though she was on O2. Her heartbeat became erratic, then stopped. They started CPR, and the vet called me. And the call that I thought would be "She's out of surgery and you can pick her up tomorrow"--turned out to be a totally different call. The CPR wasn't working, and I told them to let her go.

 

She was 8 years, 4 months, and 10 days old.

 

The picture of Oreo in my signature was taken only a couple of months before she died. There was very little white in her face--much less than 6-year-old Sam had back then. She never looked or acted like an older dog. She was just a lovely, calm, silly, smiling, goofy companion, wonderful greyhound ambassadog, and much loved friend.

 

And I still miss her like crazy.

 

Love you, sweet girl.

[Guest how888]

How beautiful.. Always in our hearts no matter how many years......

[Guest rippasmom]

I'm glad she had a loving home.

[Ullaluv]

Such a beautiful girl. I'm sorry she had to leave so soon.

[MandysMom]

What a beautiful girl. I'm so sorry.

[Guest gotgr8hnds]

Thank you for sharing your story about Oreo. . .It's very clear that she was a special girl and she is living on in your heart. One day, you will see her again and she'll be able to run to you.

[KF_in_Georgia]

Still missing you, baby, after six years. Thought of you often today.

[FiveRoooooers]

And I still miss her like crazy.

 

Of course you do. Thank you for sharing your girl with us.

[sabrina]

to you on this sad day

[Guest johnwe]

Sorry for your loss.

[Guest dee]

A beautiful tribute to a beautiful dog.......

[Guest goofydog]

Kathy, I never got to meet Oreo and that is my loss. Your description of her life with you and Sam surely make me feel like I did and I thank you for posting it. Oreo was a special girl that found the right home and she was a great intro to the wonderful world of greyhounds. Hugs to you my friend.

 

 

 

Toni

[Batmom]

Rest well, special girl.