Sunday, September 18, 2016

Vital Force

As we come up the driveway, we tred lightly.  Creatures of different temperaments are known to inhabit our home, and we are bound and determined to unearth their secrets.  We hear the galloping of many feet as we enter.  Without warning and coming right at us at full speed are 
                                                                               two, yes two -------- excited greyhounds.   



With their keen hearing and eyesight, they spotted us as we turned into our driveway.  There is no way we could sneak into the house without these two knowing it.  They are our welcoming committee.  The latest two members of our family are like our past greys in that they love our return from anywhere, but that’s where the similarity ends, making me consider each of our hounds and their differing personalities.

What determines a personality whether it be human or canine?  The personality is what makes each one of us an individual - so, too, our dogs.  We have all read in books and on the internet the many attributes that make our dogs stand apart from other breeds, but even in this there are so many differences of temperament  and disposition that make up their nature.  

Most exhibit the general persona of quiet, aristocratic, and well-mannered animals.  Being a cat-lover as well as a greyhound-lover, I often likened them to the independent, sometimes aloof and mysterious cat that will rub against your leg when he wants some attention.  Greyhounds are all of the above, but much more and do display variety.  Each sensitive soul has been blessed with its own specialness.

When we first embraced the idea of adoption, I knew that I wanted a calm dog.  In fact that quality is what first drew me to the breed.  I enjoyed the quiet elegance of my cats.  So as we picked our first dog, that characteristic was top on my list.  On meeting Cayman, our first grey, she exuded calmness.  “This is good”, I thought.  Little did I know that the poor dog was probably in shock when we got her.  It took her a long time to slowly blossom, and that was what I felt she did.  Like the unhurried blooming of a rosebud, she finally opened.  

At first, she had NO personality.  Like an automaton, she stepped through each day.  She ate, slept, walked, went outside in the yard, but with no sign of any distinctive characteristics.  I started to think, be careful what you wish for.  She wasn’t much fun, and she didn’t look like she was having much fun.  But in time, she began to change.  It was similar to watching an infant do new things.  Every day, she would exhibit a new trait.  I think she came into my life to teach me patience.  She never became an overly exuberant dog, but that was who she was, and we loved her.  She taught my husband and I so many good greyhound lessons, and I felt blessed that she was our first dog. 

Our second grey, Woody, was our singer.  My husband would start making song noises, and Woody would join right in.  He especially liked Jingle Bells, and it seemed he really knew the tune.  It could have been my imagination, though.  He was more outgoing than Cayman, but still very lay back, pretty large and a moosh.  I do not think I ever saw either of them pick up a toy.

During that time, we were fostering dogs for GFNJ.  One day, I was asked to foster a dog that was having some problems.  His name was Yankee.  He had run away twice from his previous home.  When he walked into my house, he resembled a deer in the headlights.  Talk about a distressed animal, but he quickly attached himself to our dogs and happily settled into life with us.  He was doing so well that moving him would have only acerbated his problems.  So this is when we flunked fostering.  We adopted him, and all of his issues. 

Yankee was afraid of everything.  By bringing him to Meet & Greets, I thought that I could acclimate him socially.  He accepted going, but getting him out of the van was always an adventure.  Then he usually just curled up under the table.  It was not something he loved like our other guys.  He relaxed as time went on.  Then, after being with us for several years and improving, he reverted back to some old behaviors like refusing to walk on a leash.  He would resemble the likeness of a stone greyhound statue.  After trying different approaches, I had to think out of the box.  So we went to an animal communicator.  

Don’t reject this out of hand.  It was a fascinating experience.  She had an interesting conversation (in thought) with Yankee and explained to him about our concerns.  I asked her to ask him if he had been abused in any way on the track.  He replied no, and that he had “always been this way”.  She made some suggestions to us, and he soon started to walk on the leash again.  Her acumen with animals certainly helped our boy.   

Our next dog, Hanna, was a beautiful white and red brindle spotted girl.  Two of her toys were both extremely large, a yellow duck with a big butt and an enormous white bunny.  She loved these two stuffed animals and would routinely drag them from the sunroom into our living room.  No matter how many times I returned them to the sunroom, they seemed to always land back where I did not want them.  She was funny and made us laugh often.  

Rusty was the next to join our brood.  He was the largest and longest of all our greyhounds, had a beautiful red brindle coat, and was quite the pushy boy.  He was exceedingly friendly and had to be noticed at all costs, and since he was large would routinely knock into you.  He was like the child that has to be first in line. 

After Hanna passed away, we chose a petite red girl named Kazi.  She was nervous about a lot of things but worshipped Rusty, and he, needing the adoration, sucked it up.  Kazi would lay in the backyard, and Rusty would stand over her as if in protection.  Once when finding Kazi after she had been lost for 25 hours (a horrible experience), she exhibited no delight at seeing us, but the minute she saw him, the happy tail started.  We often thought that although they liked us well enough, they really loved each other more.  After Rusty passed, Kazi, after only three months, developed an aggressive cancer and died soon after.  It was torturous for us, but we were comforted in feeling that Kazi needed to be with Rusty.  It could be explained in no other way.

Now to our present “children”.  Kiowa is a happy, lay back boy.  He thinks we’re  truly special and loves us unconditionally.  He is quite the momma’s boy, cries when he doesn’t like something or sees a dog or a human out the window or has his leash wrapped loosely around one of his paws.  If he barks, I look around to see if there’s another dog in the house.  He plays with toys occasionally, but doesn’t make a habit of it.  After a year of solo flying with us, we decided it was time to adopt again.  

When Emma came along, we were unsure if she might be an alien in a greyhound body.   She did not display traits we were used to in our greys.  She was young, just turned 2.  She had and still has oodles of puppy in her and plays nonstop.  She loves every toy and thus has interested Kiowa in them.  She chases balls (unheard of for any of our other dogs) and is just an exuberant girl.  She likes to talk and enjoys being talked to.  She constantly follows me.  Sometimes I will stop walking unexpectedly, and she will bump right into me.  Having these two is like enjoying a comedy routine daily.


Each of our dogs had and has their own special soul, their own vital force.  We have been privileged to be gifted with such extraordinary pets.  Each of you could write your own story about your dogs’ personalities.  Although greyhounds are quiet in their demeanor, it does not mean that they are short in personality.  Let me know how your dog reveals his soul to you.