Dottie's story

Friday, May 31, 2002


Dottie's story, it's a wonderful greyhound life


STEVE ZIMMERMAN
The News Herald
I just love when today comes each year, for today is my birthday.

My name is Dottie and I turned 10 years old today.

Now you might be asking yourself how a greyhound would know it is her birthday. I know because of the cake and ice cream I had today. Every year on the same day for the past six years since I came to live with my humans, I have gotten cake and ice cream. And today was the day.

The funny thing is, I turned 10 (that is 70 in dog years) but these two humans still talk to me like I was a puppy. Oh well, you know what they say: A human is only as smart as his greyhound lets him be.

When I raced, my human, Steve, watched me every time. He watched me run into the six dog once, and then run into the four dog the next time. Needless to say, I was not the best racer. My late sister, Genie, was the runner in the family.

When I came into the human's home, Genie was already there and was queen of the house. Sometimes she was the evil stepsister to my Cinderella. She was a strange dog. She had to be fed first and always had to be the first to choose where she would sleep for the night.

She usually got to sleep with the female human, Sharon, in her bed, which relegated the male human, Steve, to another bed in the house. That meant I had the choice of either the couch or the loveseat. As I am kind of tall for a girl, I usually chose the couch.

I do have to give Genie some credit. She was totally responsible for me coming to live with the humans.

She was an only-dog and she wanted some company. So when the humans would go to work, Genie would take all the canned foods off the shelves and stack them in the living room and snuggle with them.

That made the humans think that she needed a companion, so when I ran into the three dog during a race and hurt my leg, I got to go home with Steve and Sharon. Boy, was I lucky.

I came into a house where the humans were already greyhound trained. They knew that if they were on the couch and Genie or I wanted to get on there to sleep, they had to move. All we had to do was give them the evil eye.

I must admit, though, that I am not as worldly as Genie was and that got me into a heap of trouble once.

Steve had bought a big bag of these little triangular candies they called "kisses." He left them on the counter in the kitchen when they went out, and I decided to taste them.

I took the bag off the counter and took each kiss from its wrapper and ate every last one of them. Even though Genie was there with me in the house, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

When my humans came home, they discovered the empty bag and the wrappers and became very concerned. I heard them call my doctor and ask him if I was OK.

They could have just asked me. Other than walking and talking a little faster, I felt great. When Steve got off the phone with my doctor, he told Sharon that if I wasn't dead in an hour, I would be fine.

Dead, ha! That was the only day I ever beat Genie in a race around our big back yard. On that day, I could have beat Secretariat.

Well, things have been changing around the house lately. Genie, who was 14, went to sleep a few months ago. I knew something was wrong when she started to forget my name during our talks. Steve said she had doggie Alzheimer's disease. My doctor told me (and the humans) that actually can happen to dogs.

When Genie left us, some great people showed up at our door and left a male greyhound named Mike for my other brother, Caper, and me.

Caper came to us a couple of years ago after being abused by a mean trainer in Massachusetts. That trainer beat Caper and his four brothers with a bullwhip. As they were very scared of humans, they did not race and could not be adopted - so they had to be put to sleep.

Steve saw Caper in his new Florida kennel acting very scared. He asked the trainer (who had taken Caper from the mean trainer) what was wrong. After hearing the story, he told the trainer to bring Caper to our house.

It took two years of leaving him alone to find his way to the humans. But now he is playing with us, walking the humans on their leash and acting like a real greyhound.

Lately, my leg has been hurting me real bad. So last week the humans took me to see my doctor, Bruce. I don't think he or the humans have figured out we greyhounds understand English, but we do.

I heard Dr. Bruce say I have cancer and they could take my leg to stop the disease from spreading. Now I don't know about you, but I think a three-legged greyhound must look awfully funny.

My humans said no and decided to bring me back home whole. When we got in the car, Steve was very upset about my being sick and was crying. But I cheered him up. I gave him a big slobbery kiss right on the lips.

My leg has been getting worse every day but I knew it was about time for that cake and ice cream, so I wanted to stay around for one last taste.

Now that my birthday is over, I guess it is time for me to join Genie at the big racetrack in the sky. Before she left me, she told me that if there was lightning outside, that meant that she had won another race. I have been counting and Genie has won six times already.

I hope I am better at racing this time around so I can light up the sky for Mike and Caper.

Well, I am going to go tell the humans it is time for me to make room for another deserving retired racer in their home. I hope they get another female so Sharon has someone to take her side. Steve already has a big head, and if they have three more males in the house - well, you paint your own picture.

They should not be sad for me. I have had a great life and can't wait to swap stories of life as an adoptee with all the other former racers in doggie heaven.

Greyhound adoption has been the greatest invention since the couch or loveseat (or maybe cake and ice cream). I can't thank my trainers, Kirk and Julie, and my humans, Steve and Sharon, for giving me such a great opportunity to live a royal life.

People who adopt greyhounds are the best. So let me say in closing to everyone who has adopted or is about to adopt a fellow greyhound, thank you very much.

(Note from Steve: We did adopt a female greyhound, Coffee, after Dottie's death. And after Caper suddenly died in 1998, we took in another female, Mimi, leaving Mike and myself a definite minority in the home.)

The writer can be contacted at szimmerman@pcnh.com




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