Wednesday, February 21, 2018


July 25, 2010 by  
Filed under Forward

Jesse is the second greyhound to share our home.  My husband Blake and I lost Quincy, our first adoptee, to kidney disease after only a few years of loving companionship. Quincy-the quintessential racing greyhound-cum pet-had all the positive qualities associated with the breed. He had intelligence, good looks, loved people and other dogs, and did his best to live up to the greyhound’s couch potato reputation. 

After Quincy’s death, we took a break-took time to mourn, renew, and reflect. After several months we began to consider another dog. Our favorite greyhound adoption group, Greyhound Friends for Life (, had received a large group of dogs from Colorado, due to a dog-track closure.

We arrived late, and only two dogs were left: Jesse and a small fragile female. Jesse, two and a half years old, had been hard to handle at first, but according to Lita, the adoption volunteer, he had settled down. She was present when the dogs were first unloaded from the vans after their long trip from out of state. “It took several people to unload Jesse,” she said. “He was like a bucking bronco, not yet broken.”

As if to prove Jesse’s docility, Lita let him out of his crate, slipped a collar and lead over his head, and handed me the end. Jesse darted here and there looking for food. Lita assured us he had been fed, yet he gobbled up every stray piece of kibble from the floor, then walked calmly outside without the slightest tug. Lita called out several times, “C’mon, Jesse, show your real self.” She wanted us to see him at his worst before we agreed to take him home.

Jesse had only been at the shelter for a few days. Lita explained that he hadn’t bitten anyone, but seemed to have a phobia about being approached from behind. He’d jump to snap, but had never made skin contact. On the other hand, the end of his tail was bloodied from swatting it against the inside of his crate whenever anyone approached. “He snaps it like a whip,” Lita explained. “He’s nervous, but as far as we can tell, not vicious or dangerous.”

We stayed a full hour, leading, touching, and handling Jesse without incident. Though we patted his butt, pushed and prodded him gently, he remained calm.  We decided to give him a try. Lita prepared the paperwork, we paid our fees, and Jesse willingly jumped into the front seat of our pickup truck for the two-hour ride home to Santa Rosa, California. This is where our story starts.


2 Responses to “Forward”
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