Daring Reva (Edie), 09/21/99 - 10/10/12

[GreyPoopon]

On Wednesday October 10, we found OS (osteosarcoma) in Edie's right shoulder. She'd endured enough. I said goodbye.

 

This is Edie's story.

 

The Beginning

 

I brought home my first greyhound--Betsy--in May of '05. By mid Fall, I'd realized that I was living with two solitudes: the poodles, and the greyhound. I thought it might be nice to have another grey for Betsy.

 

In late November, a new group of hounds arrived at GRA Canada. One in particular--a recently retired 6 year old named Daring Reva (Reva)--caught my eye. I thought about it for a few days. Then I asked a GRA volunteer what she thought of the dog. She said Reva was "the pick of the litter". I called and made an appointment.

 

When Reva was let out of her crate, she ran up to me rawring and bouncing and jumped up at me. I stepped back with a "Whoa!" Her greeting might have been enough to put me off--I didn't need a high-energy hound when I had Minnie in the house--but it didn't. In fact, the meeting with me and my girls went well. I signed the adoption contract and went home to await the call telling me that she'd had her spay and dental.

 

The Middle

 

She came home about two weeks later. I wasn't keen on the name Reva, so I picked the similar-sounding Edie. And I soon understood the perils of falling for a photograph. She was whiny. She was so glued to me that I couldn't get anything done. She was a challenge. It took five long months to bond with her.

 

Fortunately, the bond with Betsy was almost immediate. I have a photo of them snuggling during their first week together.

 

Sometime near the end of her first year here--her 7th birthday or first Gotcha Day--I posted that she was sweet, silly, stubborn, and sometimes sneaky. She was also her own dog, and noisy.

 

Her Own Dog

 

Right from the start, Edie made it clear that she didn't think that I was qualified to run the joint. She really didn't care what I thought. I don't think she ever did, but she learned to fake it.

 

I recall distinctly the day things clicked for her. We were in the middle of our second course at dog school (Grade 2), and I looked down to see her staring up at me expectantly. I could practically hear her thinking, "Oh. I get it. If I hang out with you and pay attention, good things happen." So she did. We did much better after that, and had a lot more fun.

 

She was often not very interested in other people. She loved the approach--sometimes she'd be quite enthusiastic--but once she got there, it would be all over. The tendency increased with the length of her retirement. In the early days, I'd refer to Perry and Edie as the Greeting Committee because of their behaviour when we met people on walks. Minnie, also not much interested in people, loved the approach but would then drift off. Betsy tended to hang back and wait until the rowdiness was over. Gradually, Minnie and Edie reversed roles, and Minnie became more interested in staying for attention, while Edie might not even make it all the way to the person we were meeting.

 

She was also the only dog in this household who would walk away from attention. Some would stay even without it, some would leave when it ended, but Edie would just take off in the middle of a scratch. It wasn't that she didn't love attention. She did. But every once in a while, she'd just...leave.

 

She often seemed unhappy or uninterested in what was happening around her. I called her Miss Morose. But when she was interested, she was a totally different dog--alert and eager.

 

Her attitude, and her other quirks, earned her a joint title with my pistol Minnie: my "Bad Girls".

 

Noisy

 

Another characteristic Edie shared with Minnie was her tendency to be vocal. Edie was easily the noisiest hound in the house. It started as soon as she arrived home. She whined for a solid week. Gradually, as she became more comfortable, she whined less. But it remained her preferred method of expressing anything: boredom, frustration, hunger, and so on. Sometimes, if she were whining as I prepared dog meals, I'd whine back at her, and we'd have quite a song fest. She whined enough to earn a couple of nicknames: Needy Edie, and Whiny Bitch. When a GreyTalker posted that she sang to her whiny boy, "Don't Cry for Me <dog name> <last name>" (to "Don't Cry for Me Argentina"), I adapted it to include one of Edie's nicknames, "Don't Cry for Me Edie Beedie."

 

She also barked. After meals, she would stand at the front window with Minnie and comment on passers-by. In the yard, she'd yell at passing dogs. She had a very loud and often gravelly bark.

 

The best sound effect, and the one I labelled and often encouraged, was her talking, which sounded like "Rawr, rawr, rawr." Sometimes it was gravelly, sometimes not, but it was always amusing. She would use it to greet people or dogs she really liked, especially if she hadn't seen them for a while. She would also announce her arrival at school or at the vet clinic when we walked over for a weigh-in. If she looked like she was thinking about commenting, I'd say, "Talk Edie", and that was usually enough to get her started. There are a couple of short videos of her rawring in "The Videos".

 

Stubborn

 

As her own dog, Edie could be very stubborn.

 

It showed up first with her sit. She had a lovely natural sit. But she didn't feel the need to sit on command. I tried everything. Nothing worked. Finally I resorted to the scoop method, and she relented.

 

She never did get over her aversion to lying on the rubber floor at school. She'd down on command. Then she'd pop back up. I'd replace her. She'd pop up. After a few iterations, she'd realize that I was serious--as always--and flop on her side. Of course, if she decided that she was tired, she was happy to relax on the very same floor that was so uncomfortable when I asked her to lie on it.

 

When she first arrived, Edie was not always good with other dogs. I didn't help her enough, and she got quite a bit worse. Eventually, we sorted it out. But there were a few whom she never liked, despite the fact that she had to have realized that none had ever done anything to her, and I wasn't going to let her get anywhere near them.

 

I often joked that Edie's stubborness was apparent from her ears--she had donkey ears.

 

Sneaky

 

Edie was my first sneaky dog, and it caught me by surprise.

 

Perhaps the best example happened early on, when she developed a fascination with a cat toy that lived upstairs. She would wait until she thought I was elsewhere or preoccupied, and then she'd go upstairs to get it. More than once I caught her headed up; at least once I caught her on her way back down, the toy in her mouth. One day I wasn't fast enough, and the cat toy disappeared. That earned her a trip to the vet clinic to disgorge her prize. Fortunately, she relinquished it without surgery.

 

Occasionally, she was destructive. She didn't do it all that often. In fact, she'd wait until I'd started to think she could be trusted, and then something would get ruined: books, a vcr tape, the plastic mat that protects the bow window ledge. She didn't much care what she destroyed. Sometimes, she ate the item. More often she just wrecked it. And always, always she did so when I wasn't in the room to tell her to stop.

 

Silly

 

I first decided Edie was silly because of the way she'd play in the yard--lying on her back, wriggling and kicking. I almost lost my nose a few times to those kicks while tickling her.

 

She was profoundly silly. It showed up almost daily, in all sorts of ways.

 

She was a spectacular nester. But she often nested so thoroughly that she'd end up on the floor with the comforter or bed beside her. The beds got a lot more elaborate so that she'd still have something soft to lie on. Then she'd nest to the point of being tangled in her bedding. One time, she moved a bed to the gap between my desk and a cabinet, trapping Minnie; I have a photo of Edie on the displaced bed and Minnie looking distressed at being stuck.

 

She was a master roacher. She had all of the positions. One time, it looked like she was programming the VCR. Another, she was the only one in a lineup of four dogs who was upside down.

 

She loved toys. When she was younger, she would have very intense plays sessions. Sometimes she would go from toy to toy; other times she would eviscerate one. Even then, she couldn't resist a good joke. One day, she ruined a bunny stuffie. The next day, she tortured it again, but she ended up sleeping with the remains of the bunny on her head as if it had won that round.

 

In the yard, she preferred balls. At first, she liked those that were noisy. Eventually, though, a no-longer-giggling red ball became her favourite.

 

Even her destructiveness could be silly. Like the time she tore up a tissue box. One that just happened to have on its side a stylized drawing of a woman walking a standard poodle.

 

Or the time that she ripped up a trade paperback that I'd just bought. On dog training. It was Patricia McConnell's "The Other End of the Leash". When I started reading the replacement copy, I understood her point. What did she mean, "Don't hug your dog"? Edie loved hugs.

 

She was, in fact, quite a reader. It wasn't unusual for her to peruse whatever I made the mistake of leaving on the coffee table. Eventually, I decided to leave her favourite Staples catalogue out so that she could read whenever she wished.

 

As befits a noisy girl, she was a music lover. One time, I saw her slowly sliding head first off the chesterfield, and heard Joni Mitchell's "Help Me (I think I'm falling)." She had a coat that formed a perfect arc above her hind end--Rihanna's "Umbrella".

 

She did impressions of other (now departed) GreyTalk houndies. I have a photo of her running in which she looked exactly like Echo (GTer Brindles). And one of her catching treats in a way that made her look like Gumby (Lazybones).

 

Even her ears did impressions. When they were angled out, she looked like Yoda. If she had her head down eating a biscuit, she resembled the Batman logo from the 60s TV series.

 

I don't usually dress up my dogs, but I did so with Edie. Once she had on two coats plus ear curlers (toilet paper rolls) under a scarf, and was posed beside a coffee cup and an ashtray: a housewife from an old movie. Another time, a headband wrapped around a Gentle Leader became an ETS preventer. She always adopted her best Miss Morose expression for these photo shoots, but she was a willing participant.

 

You might think that all of this says more about me than Edie. But there have been a dozen other dogs here at various times during her tenure, and none triggered similar responses. There was just something silly about Edie that encouraged silliness in others. Including the senior vet at the clinic, who came out of an examining room, took one look at Edie--whom he barely knew--and rawred. She rawred back. They had quite a chat, to the amusement of the staff and other clients.

 

The silliness also lead to her most common nickname. It started when Edie Beedie stretched to Edie Beedie Boo, then morphed to Boo Boo Bear. During the last months, I think I called her Boo Boo as often as Edie.

 

Sweet

 

Above all, Edie was sweet. She did love attention, even if she sometimes ended it abruptly.

 

If I rubbed her ears and then stopped, she'd use her own wrist to rub her ear to signal that she needed more. She enjoyed hugs too, and would often stop by during our yard time to get a hug and a scratch.

 

She was a top-notch cuddler, with both dogs and humans. I think she managed to snuggle against every other dog in this house, even those who didn't especially enjoy cuddling.

 

She also liked to snuggle with me. If were on the chesterfield beside her butt, she would eventually turn around and use my arm or side as a pillow. She even snuggled with her vet on the heated surgery table after having her corn hulled.

 

Sometimes, she expressed herself just with closeness. We visited one particular neighbour almost daily. Although Edie liked her, she would usually end up standing near--often behind--me. It wasn't unusual for her to rest her head lightly on the back of my leg.

 

Occasionally, she would favour me with kisses. It didn't tend to happen often, but she would give me 3 or 4 at once. I hadn't gotten many recently, but a month or so before the end, after she'd had her corn hulled and I was waiting to pay, she kissed the back of my knee. I grinned and said to her vet, "She may have snuggled with you, but she's still my girl."

 

Sometimes, she used her nose as the contact point. The first summer I wore shorts in the house (having previously changed into them just for walks), I realized that she often touched the back of my knee as I prepared dog meals. In her last days, as her appetite faded, I sometimes held her bowl. Before she ate, she'd rest the tip of her nose softly against my hand.

 

The End

 

Edie had long had an arthritic right shoulder. It was x-rayed repeatedly, especially in the first months of her lameness. Some of that lameness may have been due to the corn that eventually showed up on one toe. It was hulled often by her vet (she didn't like me touching it), which resulted in a special bond between them.

 

During the last year, she showed almost no interest in her favourite ball, and rarely ran, except to the bottom of the yard and back. In time, it was apparent that her hind end was stiff. Recently, the stiffness was confirmed to be LS (lumbosacral stenosis).

 

She started having trouble with stairs, even though she'd always been incredibly nimble. A couple of months ago, I had to start leaving her on the main floor at night because she was no longer willing to climb the 8 steps, and resisted help. (She would let me carry her, but I was afraid that I'd re-injure my own hip.) Then she started having trouble with the 7 stairs from the ground to the main floor. During the last couple of weeks, she lost the ability to go up the 3 stairs from the deck. Then she was unable to go down. There were some horrible falls. By the end, the prospect of returning to the house made her stand trembling in the yard, despite ramps and my help.

 

The problems with stairs were caused not just by her weak rear end, but by an increasingly sore right front leg. She was also limping more and more on walks, and slowing down, even when the walks were shortened. She seldom ran, but when she did she looked like she was skipping.

 

We decided to try switching her from the low-dose NSAID she'd been on to steroids in the hope of helping her back. She didn't seem to improve, so we tried the LS injection. It didn't help either, but it did leave her feeling horrid. We opted to switch back to the NSAID after the requisite washout period. All of this left her shoulder relatively unmedicated, so we had her on a powerful pain drug. Given all the changes in meds, it was hard to tell what was happening with her front leg, but I didn't like it. I also didn't like the fact that one of my most reliable eaters--Eatie Gourmet--was increasingly uninterested in her meals.

 

On Monday October 1, we x-rayed her shoulder. Other than one small (1/4") area of "ambiguity" that could have been due to the underlying structures, it seemed fine. Her vet also hulled the corn. That helped a bit.

 

But very soon Edie was deteriorating again. Boosting the pain meds didn't help. The pattern was disturbingly similar to what happened with Cora, whom I lost to OS in October '09. On Tuesday October 9, I thought the joint seemed warm. It also seemed a bit larger than the other side, although it was hard to tell since Edie was not putting full weight on the right. She hadn't improved by the next morning, so I arranged to take her in to an appointment already made for a couple of the others. We discussed options for medication (we were due to resume the NSAID that day, and there were some other things we could add), and then the vet checked Edie's shoulder. She recommended repeating the x-rays. I took the others home. Less than half an hour later, the vet called to tell me that Edie's x-rays were completed, and "they don't look good." Then she started to cry. She asked if she could give Edie some additional pain medication. I said yes. I went straight over to clinic to look at the x-rays. Even my uneducated eye could clearly see that there was a cap of tumour around the entire end of the bone. From a small ambiguous spot to a substantial cap of OS in 9 days. The vet asked if I wanted to take Edie home. I said no--she was in too much pain. Instead, I said goodbye. Just 2 1/2 weeks after her 13th birthday and less than two months before her 7th Gotcha Day, she was gone.

 

Edie was her own dog. Noisy. Stubborn. Sometimes sneaky. Very silly. And, above all, sweet. It took 5 long months to bond, but bond we did. We adored each other. I miss her.

 

The Photographs

 

Edie demonstrating both her natural sit and her watchdog abilities. She usually stood while the poodles sat or stood, so I found this sight hilarious (February '07):

 

Edie reading the Staples catalogue (March '10):

 

After picking and playing with several toys, Edie dumped the box (upside down at the right), played with a few more, then couldn't decide which to tackle next (May '06):

 

Being silly in the yard (September '09):

 

Catching her favourite ball (November '09):

 

Sometimes after she'd caught her ball, she would run laps. When she was really intense, she'd drop the ball, lower her stance, and run like crazy. A fellow GreyTalker (hannahmom) told me once that she could almost hear a click when this happened with her dogs. I agreed. I have a lot of photos of Edie running. I think this might be the best (September '09):

 

Turning Perry into Snidely Whiplash (March '06):

 

"Laughing" at the flower petal on her nose while visiting a neighbour (with Perry and Minnie) (August '07):

 

Demonstrating her cuddling skills in a Greyhound Jigsaw. From left, Piper, Tally, Edie, Jessie (back), and Betsy. Only Jessie and Betsy are still here (January '09):

 

Showing off both her roaching and her cuddling, with Dixie (left) and Cal (May '12):

 

Here are a few portraits.

 

Once I'd added several more hounds, the original group became The Core Four. This is probably the first photo I posted of them, the only one taken inside, and it has not been posted as often as some of the others. The topic was about a proposed government because we'd just had a federal election. I don't recall the cabinet posts each was to occupy, but Minnie was--and is--the Prime Minster. From left, Betsy, Minnie, Perry, and Edie (February '06):

 

Edie looking at me expectantly. I often saw her waiting for me as I moved about the house or when she thought it was time for a meal or a walk. Often, she'd be at the top of the stairs as I switched levels, even more so as she lost her confidence and wouldn't follow me. More than once since she left, I've expected to find her waiting (Betsy in front) (December '07):

 

She was especially bright and eager in this photo because I was about to throw her ball (September '10):

 

Posing for an 11th birthday pic (September '10):

 

The last decent portrait, taken on her 13th birthday (September 21, 2012):

 

The Videos

 

I have a couple of short videos of her rawring, both taken at school in July '06. The first (9 seconds) is mostly rawring Edie Announces Her Arrival. The second (11 seconds) shows how enthusiastically she could say hello Edie Greets an Instructor.

 

This short video (19 seconds) shows her having a riot with a stuffie (January '07). I love the part at the end where she stares at me as if I'm supposed to find and return the toy Edie Loses Her Stuffie.

 

 

Daring Reva

Edie

Racer. Retiree.

September 21, 1999 - October 10, 2012

 

Godspeed Edie

Edited November 2, 2012 by GreyPoopon

[Batmom]

And now your beautiful silly jokester girl is telling everyone at the Bridge how very hard it was to train her human! "You couldn't let up for an instant, or she'd think SHE was training YOU!" I can hear her (RAWR) and Zema (urble burble) having a grand conversation on that very topic.

 

I'm so sorry she had to leave you, after all the fun you had together.

 

Godspeed, sweetheart.

[spottydog]

Thank you for your wonderful tribute. What a little character. Best wishes.

[Guest Becki]

[Guest MnMDogs]

My deepest sympathies... I saw a lot of my bratty Matty girl in your post, especially in your description of her first greeting you. I also have to say I think the whining must have run in the "daring" genes... Along with the satellite ears.

 

I hope she found her sister. I'm really so sorry, I'm going to miss this silly girl, that I never met.

[Guest tricolorhounds]

 

... run free Edie

[MarcR]

I'm so very sorry. Your tribute shared so much of her personality.

 

Run free, Edie Your first rawring video brought my two running to hear what you had to say

[Tracey]

I've been following your pack since you joined GT. It's hard to imagine one of your original 4 has now moved on. I am so very sorry for your loss, but Edie had a great life with you.

[Guest grey_dreams]

Enormous love shared between all in your home, Edie with you and the other dogs, and you with Edie. I'm so sorry for your loss. Godspeed, sweet and sassy Edie.

[MachosMom]

i am so sorry.

Osteo is so unfair.

 

I love the tribute and the photos. She sounds like she wa a wonderful soul. Run free sweet girl- you can run and jump and go super silly again.

[heartdogs]

This is not the way I wanted to start my day. Your tribute to Edie is so full of love as well as your pictures of such a sweet girl.

Hugs to you & the remaining pups &

Run free Edie

[Charlies_Dad]

Edie was so very special in all her ways. I am so very sorry.

 

Run free Edie, run free sweetie...

[dante2zoe]

Oh, I am so sorry. I have always enjoyed all your posts about your girls and token boy. Your tribute was awesome and I feel like I have met her. Run free, sweet girl. You will be horribly missed by all who knew and loved you.

[DesiRayMom]

This world has lost a lovely girlie, but heaven has gained such a beautiful angel.

 

Happy Trails, Edie. May your afterlife be filled will catalogues, stuffies, plenty of nesting material, and good friends to talk with.

[Cully]

Run free sweet baby.

[Fostr_Mom]

What a beautiful tribute. I feel like I know her. I too have a silly brindle talker. They sure add spice to the day! I am so sorry for your loss. Edie was a character. Run free sweet girl.

[Guest greybookends]

I am so sorry Edie had to leave you.

[Hollis]

Oh damn. I am so so sorry. Rest well Edie....

[BertnLil]

What a special girl. I'm so sorry.

[Houndtime]

I am so very sorry for your loss.

[greytpups]

I'm so sorry. Jen told me a few weeks ago so I imagine this tribute was extremely difficult to write, but it is beautiful and shows the love you have for her and all of your pups. I'm glad I got to meet her. Rest well sweet Edie, you will be missed by many and always loved by your mama.

 

Your house must seem so empty, even with all the other pups, now that Edie is gone.

[sabrina]

Sorry for you loss of Edie. Your pictures wont be the same without her. I always loved those ears

[Guest zombrie]

I am so sorry for your loss. Run free sweet girl

[Jiffer]

 

Run free sweetie.

[Guest PiagetsMom]

I'm sad to see this. Edie was so very lucky to be a part of your heart and your pack - she definitely knew much love. I'm so very sorry you had to say goodbye to your beautiful girl