Graduating from college…getting a “real” job…getting your first apartment without a roommate…yeah, yeah…that’s all well and good. For me, they were a means to a long awaited end. My own dog. A couple months before I moved into my own place I started researching dog breeds. I knew what I wanted: big dog, short coat, minimal grooming, moderate activity level. So I narrowed it down to Great Danes and Dobermans. I started looking through rescue sites (no puppies please!) and stumbled across a link for retired racing greyhounds. Huh…looked interesting. As I read site after site, I realized that greyhounds were exactly what I was looking for on paper. So I arranged to visit the adoption kennel about 2 hours away.

With one look, those deep soulful eyes had me hooked and I knew my life would never be the same. I checked the website every day for new arrivals, looking for that perfect match. I wanted straight off the track, young, male and BIG. And then I found him: King. A gorgeous white and brindle male, 2 years old and weighing in over 70 pounds. I met him and he was oh, so sweet (but weren’t they all?!). So, I put him on hold. Waited for him to be neutered and returned in a week to fill out the paperwork.

The day I went to adopt King, this greyhound kept pawing at the crate door every time we would walk by. Thinking maybe she had to potty, we got her out and took her to a turn-out area. She was a HOOT! Running circles like mad, rubbing on our legs, nibbling on grass - which was especially funny because she was white and black just like a cow! So I asked the adoption rep what her “story” was. Well, she had been returned from her first home after only a couple days for having diarrhea. At 4 1/2 she wasn’t exactly young. She also wasn’t cat safe. Hmm…..well, what about King. How “adoptable” was he? Young, gorgeous, cat safe…he’d go in a heartbeat if I weren’t adopting him.

That day I drove home with Haley, not King. She had been so playful at the adoption kennel,Haley’s Profile but once we got home, she promptly laid down on the dog bed in my bedroom and rarely got up. Most of the time it was like having a pet statue! Most visitors commented on how well behaved she was. A few asked if we should check to make sure she was still breathing.

I worried that Haley was unhappy as an only dog. She had no separation anxiety, she was unflappable in her house training, very well behaved on leash. She was the perfect dog…she just rarely ever did anything. She would even turn into a statue on walks and refuse to go anywhere. I felt like a failure as an owner. Was it me? Did she not like me? Well, every morning I would wake up with her sleeping next to me in bed, so I was pretty sure she thought I was OK.

When I adopted my second greyhound, Haley’s behavior changed dramatically. She came out of her shell…and has continued to do so with each new dog brought into the pack. She clearly feels most at home in a pack. And why not? She was raised in a pack on the farm, lived with a pack at the racing kennel and raced with a pack during her 3 1/2 year career. It only makes sense that after retirement she would crave the greyhound companionship she’s known all her life. I am just thrilled that I could finally make my Sweet Baby Haley happy and give her the retirement she deserves!