Be a Good Human – Volunteer

volunteerTwo Sundays ago, I took my 16 year old son along while I volunteered at my local greyhound kennel.  He hung out in my car, which I strategically positioned next to the turnout fence so he could see every greyhound I brought out for some fresh air, scritches, and potty break.  I was happily surprised to see him paying less and less attention to his electronic gadget, and more attention to each grey who trotted over to the car to investigate this new human.  One particular girl was very interested in my son; it seemed she’d rather bask in his attention than sniff around the yard.

On the way home, I was peppered with questions about how turnout worked, how many dogs were in the kennel, and what the requirements were to volunteer.  Luckily, my kennel’s age requirement for volunteers is 16.  Additionally, my son’s high school awards graduation cords for those students providing 100 hours of community service between 8th grade and their senior year.  Put those two together, along with my son’s love for greyhounds, and I was not at all surprised when he told me that he wanted to volunteer for turnouts.

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Intruder Alert!

As I was making dinner, my brave watchdog Luna alerted me to the presence of an intruder at our back door.  Because I was standing off to the side, slaving over a boiling pot of rapid-cook tortellini from Costco, I could not see that which was causing such terror, shaking Luna to her core.

I could tell by the way she was barking, trembling, and wagging her tail that this had to be a formidable beast.  I watched in horror as she snarled and growled at the terrifying creature before her.  My heart beat furiously in my chest.  Ungodly noises emanated from my sweet greyhound’s throat as she growled and paced back and forth, her eyes not leaving the leviathan at our back door.  It was not a person, that I knew, because Luna’s eyes were fixed on something below her eye level.

Her eyes darted at me briefly, then back to the unwelcome guest, then back to me, as if to say “Mommy, don’t come any closer.  It’ll kill you.  I’ll save you.  Just let me at it. ”  I grabbed at the dishtowel draped over the oven handle, and wiped my hands, then discarded it for the rolling pin in the utensil drawer in front of me.  Cautiously, I walked over to the door, fearing what I might find.  Luna stood in front of me, her back to me, protecting me from the hellish creature just outside the door.  She was barking and growling with such intensity that her front paws lifted off the floor with each bark.  I moved closer, and then I saw it.  

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Welcome to the Greyhound Club

I recently came across an article by Linda Weber, writer for Examiner.com, and dedicated greyhound parent.  Linda is a special kind of person, donating 100% of her compensation from Examiner.com to greyhound adoption and education groups.  In her article, “Greyhounds: Ownership or Cult?”, Linda discusses the differences between dog ownership among different breeds of dogs as compared to greyhounds.

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