A retired Greyhound dog makes the most amazing pet. These gentle, lazy, lovable creatures will rule your heart and your sofa in no time at all.
Now, when I say Greyhound dog, I’m not excluding the girls, I’m excluding the busses.
I don't want anyone planning a cross country trip to be disappointed when they arrive here to find things with four legs rather than four wheels.
We are Ammy (Mama) and Karen (The Jellyfish), a couple of friends who have known each other since our school days in South Africa. We’re both total misfits who still haven’t decided what we want to be when we grow up.
We come and go, meeting up here and there, often sharing homes, cars, camper vans and, at the moment, a Greyhound.
I (Karen) was always a cat person until I met my first retired racer.
I was in awe of this amazing creature. I stared at him all the way from Hebden Bridge, where we picked him up, to Denholme, where he was going to live.
I’d gone with a friend to collect him and I just couldn’t take my eyes off him (the hound, not my friend). It was like being in the presence of an Olympic athlete, albeit one with the oddest feet and ears I’d ever encountered.
Sadly, a little over a year later, my friend passed away and I inherited the very beautiful Radley.
Radley was in my life for just over three years, and in Ammy’s for two. By the time he crossed the rainbow bridge we were both fully fledged members of the Cult of Greyhound.
Oh yes, if you already share your home with an ex-racer then you know all about it. And if you plan to adopt, you soon will. Nobody tells you this until it's too late. You don't just adopt a greyhound - you join a cult.
We hadn’t intended being owned by another hound so soon after losing Radley, but three weeks later we drove to Boston to pick up the absolutely gorgeous, and ever so slightly insane, Yogi Berra.
We couldn't resist. If you're a Greyhound person, a house without a hound just isn't a home. Everywhere we went there were reminders of our boy. Poo bins seemed to leap out at us. Public footpath signs silently called us to stop the car and go exploring. But nothing was the same without our boy.
We lost Yogi in January 2020 and, true to form, we couldn't handle the emptiness in the house. Within two weeks we had our new boy, Sunny. He couldn't fill the Yogi-shaped hole in our lives anymore than Yogi could fill the Radley-shaped hole, but he's doing a magnificent job of filling the Greyhound dog shaped-hole.Are you ready for a 'greyt' adventure? Maybe you've already begun yours? Either way you'll find everything you need to know about
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