You see, I adopted a greyhound and he had to be put to sleep almost exactly one year ago.
I’m not going to talk about the night I had to have him put to sleep- its just too painful. I still feel horribly guilt about it all, and I will never completely forgive myself for signing the paper to have him put to sleep. I feel guilty just killing spiders in my house, so you can imagine….
Anyway, I had heard that greyhounds are so gentle and loving and their life stories are so rotten that I just had to adopt one. Greyhounds are so attention starved, that they just bond to you if you show them the slightest bit of affection. They also love stuffed animals and will carry their favorite around like a child.
I visited the adoption place for a preliminary visit and had a greyhound all picked out- her name was “Arc of Joan”. Then we had a terrible snowstorm and I had to wait an extra week before I went back. When I finally was able to get back to the place, the director pulled me aside and talked me out of Joan. She was a young Alpha female and would be a handful and was not recommended for a first timer and a single dog household. But there was another dog available– named Tully O’ran.
Tully had been adopted out before to a man and woman where he had lived for a couple years. But then the wife got pregnant and decided that she didn’t want a big dog around. So they brought him back. That made me so sad that my heart just went out to him.
An hour later, Tully was in my car riding back to my place. I had already started calling him his new name “Sully”– short for Sullivan. I thought it sounded enough like Tully O’ran plus I named him after one of my favorite Irish pubs where I had tried ‘black and tans’ for the first time.
Sully- as it turns out- was a black and brown brindle greyhound.
As soon as I got him home, the first thing he did was jump up on a bed and relax. Lazy to the core, pretty much all he ever did was sleep on my bed, bless his heart. He didn’t know how to play, but that was ok. He was still a good dog. He was extremely gentle and he slept by my side every night.
I don’t know if I was home enough to be a good caregiver. I don’t think I took him on enough walks or runs. I hope he had a good and comfortable homelife for the 6 years that he was mine.
Part of me wants to adopt another one, but for the reasons above (and because I can’t watch another animal die) I have chosen not to.
But I feel guilty about it.