“The cemeteries are full of indispensable people.”
April 19. 1995 to July 2, 2006
We’d had Devon, our first greyhound, for a few months. He had been rather morose since we’d brought him home, so we decided he might be happier if we acquired another pack member for him. We called Judy and inquired about the availability of any potential adoptees. A few days later she called to let us know she had extradited “the most beautiful champagne” greyhound she had ever seen from an undesirable situation. For the last six months, he had been relegated to the backyard of his first off-track residence with nothing more than a human pillow for warmth and companionship. We made arrangements to come by and meet him. We arrived at Judy’s midafternoon on a Saturday with Devon in tow. At the time Judy was caring for four or five greyhounds, all of whom came bounding out the door to greet us. Sure enough, one of them was a gorgeous champagne-colored greyhound. On his papers he was named “Patsy Quick.” They called him “Buddy” at the track. We’d been there about 3 minutes when he ran over to our Honda CR-V, the back of which had been left open after letting Devon out. The next thing we knew, Buddy had jumped in and refused to leave. What were we to do?
We brought him home with and named him Dante because we had rescued him from hell. He was high strung, and had some separation issues. He hated thunder and whenever there was a storm, he would seek the safety of “his closet.” About a week into his life with us, he and his brother had an alpha-dog issue. We heard Dante let out a blood-curdling scream, and when we got him into the house, we discovered he had a nice tear in his throat. Off we went to the vet, where we learned the bite had just missed an artery. If that had been severed he would have bled out before we got him to the clinic. Not too long after that incident, he presented one day with an enormous swelling just under his jaw. Back to the vet for more surgery. A biopsy revealed cancer. Our vet told us she’d cleaned around the swelling as best as she could, but told us it was unlikely he would survive the year. Well, he did, and became known as the miracle dog, surviving his older brother Devon, and his after-acquired sister, B’mer, as well as another throat tear and an enlarged spleen.
Two years ago, my brother John came for an extended stay. Dante fell in love with him, and the two of them were inseparable. John would take him and his sister B’mer on long walks almost every day. On the way out he would let them wander and sniff, but on the way back, he would march them home, one on either side. It was a sight to behold.
Shortly after B’mer died, we got Dante a baby brother, Joe Joe. He and Joe had a wonderful year together, and then a year ago today, Dante the beautiful miracle dog finally succumbed — probably to cancer. We miss him, but every time it thunders we know he’s finally found peace.
next post: Joe Joe
previous post: Dante and Joe Show
No Comments yet
Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.