Four days after getting the dog I decided to take him to the local dog training class. It was a puppy group but as he wa about 6 months old they let him join. I was very determined to get it right with this dog as Fergus never ever came back and would look back and grin at me as he ran at 45 miles an hour away from me. The consequense of this was I could never let him off the lead in 14 years, even two weeks before he died he used to get turbo boosts on when I thought he was old and slow enough to be trusted and I'd have to leg it as fast as I could to catch him.
It was also very stressful when people came to visit as they would do unpredicatable things like go out to their car without telling you, leaving the front door on the latch and the garden gate wide open. Several times I had to drive about trying to catch him as he seemed to like the car and it was the only way to keep up with him (we once clocked him running at 45mph) and when I did he would leap into the car as if I was his chauffer.
So off to training we went.
We walked in and every other dog was a rather expensive pedigree and here was I with a rather mangy, half bald, skinny as a stick lurcher on the end of a lead. Oh dear.
Never fear, everyone was so friendly and even though my dog looked a tad infectious everyone let their dogs say hello which was so nice.
The class went well, I think the dog did better then I did as I kept tripping up and over the dog and generally doing the wrong thing but we agreed to go back the next week and at the time of writing we've been going for 8 months now and enjoyed every single class.
I think the main reason for the dog to like the class was the sausages we used as treats. Being half starved he would do anything for the minutest piece of sausage so the whole thing seemed a bit of a doddle to some point but my fingers were rather chewed from him trying to get at the meat and mistaking my fingers.
Thursday, 31 July 2008
Off to the Vets
We got the new dog on Sunday and on Monday I took him along to our vets to be checked out and chipped.
I opened the back of my car and he leaped in, much higher than he needed to and nearly bashed his head on the roof of the boot! As we drove to the vets he sat bolt upright and very regally in the boot, looking around him and taking everything in. It apepared he seemed to like going in the car which was great.
On arriving at the vets I walked to the back of the car, started opening the tailgate and before I knew what hit me a dog was sitting over my face on my shoulders! He had leaped out at such a speed that I hadn't even finished opening the tailgate and how he was managing to balance almost on my head I really didn't know.
I managed to get him onto the ground and got some very odd looks from other people parking their cars.
The vet was really concerned about his weight, he really was skinny, and we agreed that I'd bring him in once a week to be weighed until he reached a healthy weight. On his first visit he weighed under 18 kilos and he should have been between 25 and 28 kilos. She then went through all the flea and worming treatments that I'd have to give him and when she did the micro chip she asked what his name would be and I had to answer that I didn't know.
I always thought my next dog would be called FergusII after all FergusI was a great dog and in my opinion he had a great name but Other Half said this would be wrong and now I was on the spot I knew he was right as the dog wasn't Fergus at all. The vet let me decide and let her know the next time we were in so I was under pressure to get thinking.
One thing I asked was if it was ok to give the dog a bath as he was still very smellly and she said it was fine, oh yeee ha!
Strangely the dog seemed to like the vets, it may have been because everybody who saw him immediately went 'awww, look at him, poor thing. What happened?' after which the dog got allot of fuss and a couple of people including the vet gave him treats so of course he thought this was great.
It was a bit difficult being out in public with him though as his legs were completely bald and his body so skinny it was hard to see how he managed to stand up. The skin on his legs and lower body was also covered in lots of red sores like spots and he looked dreadfull poor chap. The worst thing was the thought that people were thinking it was me who had let him get into this state.
We then went home and I started administering the various deadly potions from the vets which I hoped would not have any dire effects on the rear end of the dog while I tried hard to think of a name for him.
I opened the back of my car and he leaped in, much higher than he needed to and nearly bashed his head on the roof of the boot! As we drove to the vets he sat bolt upright and very regally in the boot, looking around him and taking everything in. It apepared he seemed to like going in the car which was great.
On arriving at the vets I walked to the back of the car, started opening the tailgate and before I knew what hit me a dog was sitting over my face on my shoulders! He had leaped out at such a speed that I hadn't even finished opening the tailgate and how he was managing to balance almost on my head I really didn't know.
I managed to get him onto the ground and got some very odd looks from other people parking their cars.
The vet was really concerned about his weight, he really was skinny, and we agreed that I'd bring him in once a week to be weighed until he reached a healthy weight. On his first visit he weighed under 18 kilos and he should have been between 25 and 28 kilos. She then went through all the flea and worming treatments that I'd have to give him and when she did the micro chip she asked what his name would be and I had to answer that I didn't know.
I always thought my next dog would be called FergusII after all FergusI was a great dog and in my opinion he had a great name but Other Half said this would be wrong and now I was on the spot I knew he was right as the dog wasn't Fergus at all. The vet let me decide and let her know the next time we were in so I was under pressure to get thinking.
One thing I asked was if it was ok to give the dog a bath as he was still very smellly and she said it was fine, oh yeee ha!
Strangely the dog seemed to like the vets, it may have been because everybody who saw him immediately went 'awww, look at him, poor thing. What happened?' after which the dog got allot of fuss and a couple of people including the vet gave him treats so of course he thought this was great.
It was a bit difficult being out in public with him though as his legs were completely bald and his body so skinny it was hard to see how he managed to stand up. The skin on his legs and lower body was also covered in lots of red sores like spots and he looked dreadfull poor chap. The worst thing was the thought that people were thinking it was me who had let him get into this state.
We then went home and I started administering the various deadly potions from the vets which I hoped would not have any dire effects on the rear end of the dog while I tried hard to think of a name for him.
Tuesday, 29 July 2008
What Candles?
I was woken with a start very early the next morning. At 5.00am to be precise to a morning chorus of the howling bark and lots of jumping style movement so I decided to go downstairs to see what was happening.
As I gingerly opened the living room door the first thing that hit me was the new dog. He literally threw himself at me and being a rather large skinny boney dog it was rather painful.
As I tried to make my way into the room I was accompanied by a bouncing dog throwing himself at me and almost trying to climb onto me as I walked.
It was then that I realised that he had needed the toilet, both types. The living room carpet had taken a beating and whilst trying to fend the dog off I realised that he would tread in it if I wasn't careful and dog poo on your PJ's is not a good mix.
I put my big winter coat and wellies on and put the dog on his lead and took him outside to walk around the garden to see if he needed the loo. He did. Where was it all coming from? He'd only been a few hours before when we went to bed and again during the night. It must be nerves.
We went back in and after removing the big coat I set about cleaning up and I then realised that it was not only poo and pee on the carpet but little metal things all over it too. It took me a moment to realised what they were. They were the chewed up metal covers to tea lights without the candles in them.
Where were the candles? I kept a basket full of tea lights on a low shelf as we get a lot of power cuts out here in the sticks and never gave them a thought when we went to bed. I could see the teeth marks in the metal pieces but there were no signs of the wax candles. Then I realised.......the candles were in the dog.....
I hurrily started to try to piece together the metal pieces to try to establish exactly how many candles had gone, all the while the dog was intently watching me. After five I started to worry. I got to 14.
Sitting there at 5.10am I really didn't know what to do. The dog seemed fine and the candles weren't scented to it was just solidified parafin wax that he had eaten so surely it couldn't do him much harm? It was too early to call the vet, or at least it didn't seem much of an emergency to disturb the vet at this time of the morning so I decided to wait and see and got on with the poo cleaning.
Once I'd cleaned upI fed the dogs their breakfast which was wolfed down, took the dogs into the garden again and then I decided to get some breakfast. At the time I used to get a bowl of ceral and perch on the sofa in the living room and watch early morning tv while I ate it. Not any more!
As I came out of the kitchen zebedee started again. He was actually walking and jumping up on his back legs trying to get the cereal out of the bowl even before I had sat down. It was impossible, as I sat he climbed all over me to try and get the food, he was so hungry he didn't care what he did to get food , undertandable if you've been starved, a complete pain if you haven't and you are trying to eat breakfast to GMTV.
I gave up and went into the kitchen, closing the door firmly behind me and I ate breakfast in the kitchen at the table for the first time in years..
Shortly after breakfast it became aparent that new dog wanted to go to the loo so once again I pulled on the big winter coat and took him into the garden and found out just were the candles had been hiding.
It was interesting scooping the poop later that morning, it was more like scooping poop shaped candles and that was really what was coming out of the rear end of the dog and the cold air was solidifying it. I can now say that 14 tea lights had no effect whatsoever apart from giving him a bit of a clear out and making the garden poop scooping slightly more interesting and less smelly than usual!
As I gingerly opened the living room door the first thing that hit me was the new dog. He literally threw himself at me and being a rather large skinny boney dog it was rather painful.
As I tried to make my way into the room I was accompanied by a bouncing dog throwing himself at me and almost trying to climb onto me as I walked.
It was then that I realised that he had needed the toilet, both types. The living room carpet had taken a beating and whilst trying to fend the dog off I realised that he would tread in it if I wasn't careful and dog poo on your PJ's is not a good mix.
I put my big winter coat and wellies on and put the dog on his lead and took him outside to walk around the garden to see if he needed the loo. He did. Where was it all coming from? He'd only been a few hours before when we went to bed and again during the night. It must be nerves.
We went back in and after removing the big coat I set about cleaning up and I then realised that it was not only poo and pee on the carpet but little metal things all over it too. It took me a moment to realised what they were. They were the chewed up metal covers to tea lights without the candles in them.
Where were the candles? I kept a basket full of tea lights on a low shelf as we get a lot of power cuts out here in the sticks and never gave them a thought when we went to bed. I could see the teeth marks in the metal pieces but there were no signs of the wax candles. Then I realised.......the candles were in the dog.....
I hurrily started to try to piece together the metal pieces to try to establish exactly how many candles had gone, all the while the dog was intently watching me. After five I started to worry. I got to 14.
Sitting there at 5.10am I really didn't know what to do. The dog seemed fine and the candles weren't scented to it was just solidified parafin wax that he had eaten so surely it couldn't do him much harm? It was too early to call the vet, or at least it didn't seem much of an emergency to disturb the vet at this time of the morning so I decided to wait and see and got on with the poo cleaning.
Once I'd cleaned upI fed the dogs their breakfast which was wolfed down, took the dogs into the garden again and then I decided to get some breakfast. At the time I used to get a bowl of ceral and perch on the sofa in the living room and watch early morning tv while I ate it. Not any more!
As I came out of the kitchen zebedee started again. He was actually walking and jumping up on his back legs trying to get the cereal out of the bowl even before I had sat down. It was impossible, as I sat he climbed all over me to try and get the food, he was so hungry he didn't care what he did to get food , undertandable if you've been starved, a complete pain if you haven't and you are trying to eat breakfast to GMTV.
I gave up and went into the kitchen, closing the door firmly behind me and I ate breakfast in the kitchen at the table for the first time in years..
Shortly after breakfast it became aparent that new dog wanted to go to the loo so once again I pulled on the big winter coat and took him into the garden and found out just were the candles had been hiding.
It was interesting scooping the poop later that morning, it was more like scooping poop shaped candles and that was really what was coming out of the rear end of the dog and the cold air was solidifying it. I can now say that 14 tea lights had no effect whatsoever apart from giving him a bit of a clear out and making the garden poop scooping slightly more interesting and less smelly than usual!
Jounrey to the North from the North
The lovely ladies at Grehounds Galore telephoned to say I could go the next day to see the Saluki Cross. By this time I was getting quite excited at the prospect of getting a new dog and the pangs of not wanting another one were almost wearing off.
We had to travel from Southern Scotland to North Yorkshire, a not insignificant journey so we set off good and early the next day with plenty of goodies to eat on the way and Molly in the back looking rather perplexed as to why we had put the dog guard seperator in the boot as we'd nornally only do that for holidays and friends dogs to make two compartments.
We finally arrived at our destination to a very warm welcome and were taken straight to see the dog. He was kennelled with another dog, a small black greyhound who was absolutely lovely. I was slightly taken aback at how skinny the Saluki cross was and rather shocked to see that he had no fur on any of his legs. He really was in a bad way and his current condition was much improved from when he had been taken from the dog pound after the threat of being put to sleep if nobody could rescue him.
He was wearing a very cosy coat and it seemed cruel to take it off to inspect him and I just knew that the nice ladies had looked after him so well that I just said we would take him there and then. I think Other Half had expected to go off and discuss the matter but even he felt sorry for the dog. We then got Molly from the car and introduced the dogs to each other. To this day I feel rather guilty as it seemed she preferred the Greyhound to the Saluki cross but we had made up our minds and as they didn't dislike each other either it didn't seem too bad.
Then the most heartbreaking thing happened. We went to put Molly and the new dog in the back of the car and the Greyhound cried and cried and howled and barked. He so didn't want to be left behind, it was truly awful and if we had had space for three he would have come with us as it really was one of the worst things I've ever been through to walk away and leave him there.
It turned out that some weeks later the Grehound found a home with a lady who absolutely adores him so I feel much better now but I still feel the guilt when I think of him crying that afternoon.
We then sorted out all the formalities (I must point out that I'd ommitted to say that we had to get a reference from our vet and prove we had a well fenced garden etc and that the dogs would not be left alone for hours on end etc before we could take a dog home) and got into the car and started making our way home.
The first thing that hit us when we closed the car doors was the smell. It was dreadfull. And it was coming from the new dog who was looking very regal in the rear of the car but smelling very badly. Molly was looking suitably disgusted and promptly ignored him through the seperator. It was very cold but we had to open the windows to let the smell out, it was hard to discribe, probably the best way is that it was a very strong dog smell but even that discription dosen't do it justice as to the strength of it.
After a few miles the new dog settled down and went to sleep, it was almost as though he had given up on his own life and that he was just accepting whatever happened to him.
We got home in the evening and let the dogs into the house, Molly settled on her bed and the new dog ran around, and around and around. I know that dogs have to investigate a new place but this dog did it at super high speed.
We deicded to feed them and goodness me, the new dog ate his food at lightning speed! It was gone almost before he looked at it. He then went outside to do his business and came back in and started the high speed investigating once again.
The high speed investigating went on for four hours. It drove us mad. It was only interrupted for a short while when we switched the television on. This was really funny, the new dog had obvioulsy never been in a house before let alone seen a television and he just couldn't understand it. He stood in front of it with his ears cocked moving his head from left to right, then went round the back to try and find the people who were inside it. Once he realised that he couldn't work it out he went back to the high speed investigating of everything else.
Probably the worst thing about all this was that the high speed investigating was wafting the smell around the whole house. We couldn't wash him the moment he came in as that would be a bit much, and we also decided not to take his coat off as it was very cosy and on inspection it appeared that what fur he did have was rather sparse and he would be very cold without it even indoors and the coat smelt almost worse than he did. We decided to put up with it and invest in some strong air fresheners the next day until we could bathe him and wash his coat.
Later we went to bed. The dogs went out, did what they had to do, the new one on a lead so that we could make sure and we all went to bed, the dogs downstairs and us upstairs.
All was quiet.
Not for long.
After about 30 minutes he started to howl. Then bark. Then howl. Then a very odd barking howl. It was very loud.
I had read somewhere that it would do no good to give in and go down to him so I tried to ignore him. It went on, and on , and on.....I gave in and went down and was given the most raptourous welcome known to man. I settled him down and went back to bed.
All was quiet again and again not for long. We went through this routine several times until my ears stopped working through exhaustion and I fell asleep.
We had to travel from Southern Scotland to North Yorkshire, a not insignificant journey so we set off good and early the next day with plenty of goodies to eat on the way and Molly in the back looking rather perplexed as to why we had put the dog guard seperator in the boot as we'd nornally only do that for holidays and friends dogs to make two compartments.
We finally arrived at our destination to a very warm welcome and were taken straight to see the dog. He was kennelled with another dog, a small black greyhound who was absolutely lovely. I was slightly taken aback at how skinny the Saluki cross was and rather shocked to see that he had no fur on any of his legs. He really was in a bad way and his current condition was much improved from when he had been taken from the dog pound after the threat of being put to sleep if nobody could rescue him.
He was wearing a very cosy coat and it seemed cruel to take it off to inspect him and I just knew that the nice ladies had looked after him so well that I just said we would take him there and then. I think Other Half had expected to go off and discuss the matter but even he felt sorry for the dog. We then got Molly from the car and introduced the dogs to each other. To this day I feel rather guilty as it seemed she preferred the Greyhound to the Saluki cross but we had made up our minds and as they didn't dislike each other either it didn't seem too bad.
Then the most heartbreaking thing happened. We went to put Molly and the new dog in the back of the car and the Greyhound cried and cried and howled and barked. He so didn't want to be left behind, it was truly awful and if we had had space for three he would have come with us as it really was one of the worst things I've ever been through to walk away and leave him there.
It turned out that some weeks later the Grehound found a home with a lady who absolutely adores him so I feel much better now but I still feel the guilt when I think of him crying that afternoon.
We then sorted out all the formalities (I must point out that I'd ommitted to say that we had to get a reference from our vet and prove we had a well fenced garden etc and that the dogs would not be left alone for hours on end etc before we could take a dog home) and got into the car and started making our way home.
The first thing that hit us when we closed the car doors was the smell. It was dreadfull. And it was coming from the new dog who was looking very regal in the rear of the car but smelling very badly. Molly was looking suitably disgusted and promptly ignored him through the seperator. It was very cold but we had to open the windows to let the smell out, it was hard to discribe, probably the best way is that it was a very strong dog smell but even that discription dosen't do it justice as to the strength of it.
After a few miles the new dog settled down and went to sleep, it was almost as though he had given up on his own life and that he was just accepting whatever happened to him.
We got home in the evening and let the dogs into the house, Molly settled on her bed and the new dog ran around, and around and around. I know that dogs have to investigate a new place but this dog did it at super high speed.
We deicded to feed them and goodness me, the new dog ate his food at lightning speed! It was gone almost before he looked at it. He then went outside to do his business and came back in and started the high speed investigating once again.
The high speed investigating went on for four hours. It drove us mad. It was only interrupted for a short while when we switched the television on. This was really funny, the new dog had obvioulsy never been in a house before let alone seen a television and he just couldn't understand it. He stood in front of it with his ears cocked moving his head from left to right, then went round the back to try and find the people who were inside it. Once he realised that he couldn't work it out he went back to the high speed investigating of everything else.
Probably the worst thing about all this was that the high speed investigating was wafting the smell around the whole house. We couldn't wash him the moment he came in as that would be a bit much, and we also decided not to take his coat off as it was very cosy and on inspection it appeared that what fur he did have was rather sparse and he would be very cold without it even indoors and the coat smelt almost worse than he did. We decided to put up with it and invest in some strong air fresheners the next day until we could bathe him and wash his coat.
Later we went to bed. The dogs went out, did what they had to do, the new one on a lead so that we could make sure and we all went to bed, the dogs downstairs and us upstairs.
All was quiet.
Not for long.
After about 30 minutes he started to howl. Then bark. Then howl. Then a very odd barking howl. It was very loud.
I had read somewhere that it would do no good to give in and go down to him so I tried to ignore him. It went on, and on , and on.....I gave in and went down and was given the most raptourous welcome known to man. I settled him down and went back to bed.
All was quiet again and again not for long. We went through this routine several times until my ears stopped working through exhaustion and I fell asleep.
Sunday, 27 July 2008
Fergus - The Begining
This is Henry's story. He is a beautiful Saluki cross Greyhound with mad stripes and an even madder brain. He moves very fast and eats even faster, he is my friend, my personal security center and he makes me laugh every day.
Henry's story wouldn't be complete without starting at the begining before Henry came about. Henry was preceded by Fergus, mad, beautiful, funny and my very best friend. He was also a Saluki cross Greyhound and he is the reason I have Henry.
I got Fergus from a rescue center in Kent. He had been badly abused, burnt with ciggarettes, kicked, starved and generally not treated well. I was told he would be a cruely case if they could find the previous owners but of course they never did. But Fergus had his revenge, he came to live with me and my ex in a lovely country house in the Kentish countryside, he had a giant garden to make his own running track, his own 4x4 to cruise around in and a lifelong mate in Bonnie the Gorgeous Greyhound. Fergus had a better life than the scum that ill-treated him and he deserved it.
14 years on and life had moved on. Fergus, Bonnie and I had moved to Scotland, leaving behind the old life and starting afresh. Bonnie had died in 2007 at the grand age of almost 15 from simply wearing out and Ferg went on another 18 months finally wearing out last November after a summer spent laying in the sun with his new mate Molly the Mad Greyhound in our lovely cottage in the hills. He loved life and terrorised all who tried to tame him and make him a 'normal' dog. For three weeks after he died I didn't laugh at all.....
Henry's story wouldn't be complete without starting at the begining before Henry came about. Henry was preceded by Fergus, mad, beautiful, funny and my very best friend. He was also a Saluki cross Greyhound and he is the reason I have Henry.
I got Fergus from a rescue center in Kent. He had been badly abused, burnt with ciggarettes, kicked, starved and generally not treated well. I was told he would be a cruely case if they could find the previous owners but of course they never did. But Fergus had his revenge, he came to live with me and my ex in a lovely country house in the Kentish countryside, he had a giant garden to make his own running track, his own 4x4 to cruise around in and a lifelong mate in Bonnie the Gorgeous Greyhound. Fergus had a better life than the scum that ill-treated him and he deserved it.
14 years on and life had moved on. Fergus, Bonnie and I had moved to Scotland, leaving behind the old life and starting afresh. Bonnie had died in 2007 at the grand age of almost 15 from simply wearing out and Ferg went on another 18 months finally wearing out last November after a summer spent laying in the sun with his new mate Molly the Mad Greyhound in our lovely cottage in the hills. He loved life and terrorised all who tried to tame him and make him a 'normal' dog. For three weeks after he died I didn't laugh at all.....
Lonely Grehound
Fergus my first Saluki Greyhound had died on Bonfire Day 2007. Molly the Greyhound, his mate was sad. In fact she was sad, I was sad and even Other Half, the subject of 'Ferg Terrorising' for several years was sad.
In my sadness I had resolved not to have another dog. Be sensible, stick to just one, it made life much easier, I could have a hand free on walks, not get dragged in two different directions and the food, vet and kennelling bills would be halved. It made sense both financially and generally, two dogs were hard work, they took up twice the amount of space and caused twice the amount of trouble. I definately was not going to get another dog.
Then I started to browse the internet to 'look' at Salukis. Only to look, not to buy or rescue or anything, just a perusal just to see. I also decided to investigate dog training classes for Molly as she was ever so slightly deranged and we'd never really put the effort in as she had basically followed Fergus and learned from him.
It was a week after Ferg had died whilst looking for dog training classes that I came accross Dumfries & Galloway Canine Rescue. They had lots of interesting things on their sites, including dog training but also there was a button to press to view the dogs that needed homes. DON'T DO IT!!!! DON'T PRESS THE BUTTON!!!!!!!!.............................I pressed the button.
It was heartbreaking, so many dogs needing homes and none of it their fault. It made me cry and I tried to stay detached. Then I saw a big shaggy Lurcher. He was lovely, a giant version of Scruffy, the dog I had as a child. Oh what a dilema. I didn't want another dog. But I had space, love and so much doggy paraphenalia that it seemed wrong not to get another dog. Agggghhhhh, I didn't want another dog!
I switched off the computer and tried to put it out of my mind which lasted all of 5 minutes. When I switched on again I tried to distract myself by looking at pictures of Salukis again and then came up with the idea that I would break the bank and get a real Saluki puppy. Not a rescue but a complete blank slate, small and gorgeous, sweet and trainable. But I didn't want another dog.
I managed to survive a few more days but gave in once more and decided to look into getting a Saluki pup. Well it appears to be easier to take a holiday on Mars. I found some breeders websites but none seemed to have any litters. I tried to email a few people to enquire about the cost of a Saluki pup but got no reply - this could have been my dodgy email account but it didn't help. One site even wanted people to explain why prospective owners thought they should be lucky enough to have a Saluki grace them with their presence in their life! Goodness me.
I then found out that there are an almost impossibly small number of pups born each year, something like 140 - and that made the decision, what chance realistically would I have of getting one? Probably none and even if I did goodness knows how much one would cost. So that idea was out of the window. And I didn't want another dog anyway.
I then had another idea. Saluki rescue. I tried to email and again no reply. Bloody email! Mine works most of the time and every now and then won't send anything out. So I tried searching for rescue organisations and quickly came accross www.greyhoundsgalore.org.uk as they were advertising a young male Saluki cross who'd been in a bad way when they picked him up. There was a picture. It hit me in the head so hard I nearly fell off the sofa, it was a perfect cross between Molly and Fergus, this lovely dog had Fergus's eyes and ears and Molly's stripes and gaze, what a wonderful combination, how could I reisist.
I still didn't know if I wanted another dog. Note the progression from not wanting another dog.
Other half by this time had had two weeks of me saying I didn't want another dog but constantly showing him pictures of the shaggy Lurcher and the Saluki cross. In the end he broke and demanded that I choose one of them and we would go and get it at the weekend. I protested, I really didn't want another dog, the heartache after loosing Ferg and Bonnie was too much to go through all over again.
Then I looked at Molly. She was laying on her bed gazing up at me with her huge sad eyes. She looked sad. She looked lonely and over the last couple of weeks she had really pined for Fergus, probably more than the humans in the house. It was though she was saying to me that she wanted a mate, a friend to run around with and get up to all sorts of mischief and continue the legacy of terrorising Other Half. She was spending her days on her bed in the living room while I went about my work in the workshop outside. She didn't want to come with me and lay under my bench, all she wanted to do was nothing. It was so sad.
That was the decider for me. Molly needed another dog even if I was unsure so I phoned Dumfries and Galloway rescue to ask about the shaggy Lurcher. The man I spoke to was really nice and said that another couple were coming to see him that day and if they didn't want him then I could come to see him. I had decided that as I'd seen the Lurcher first I'd give him first go.
The other couple wanted the shaggy Lurcher so that made the decision, I would enquire about the Saluki cross so I emailed Greyhounds Galore.
I got a reply. It was very honest. The Saluki cross was in a bad way. He had had some sort of allergy and lots of his fur had fallen out. He had also been starved and was extremely skinny. His behaviour was quite mad, when he went for a walk he would walk on his hind legs and go completely off his head when he saw another dog. They were very honest and I thank them for it.
I emailed back to ask if I could go to see him the next day.
In my sadness I had resolved not to have another dog. Be sensible, stick to just one, it made life much easier, I could have a hand free on walks, not get dragged in two different directions and the food, vet and kennelling bills would be halved. It made sense both financially and generally, two dogs were hard work, they took up twice the amount of space and caused twice the amount of trouble. I definately was not going to get another dog.
Then I started to browse the internet to 'look' at Salukis. Only to look, not to buy or rescue or anything, just a perusal just to see. I also decided to investigate dog training classes for Molly as she was ever so slightly deranged and we'd never really put the effort in as she had basically followed Fergus and learned from him.
It was a week after Ferg had died whilst looking for dog training classes that I came accross Dumfries & Galloway Canine Rescue. They had lots of interesting things on their sites, including dog training but also there was a button to press to view the dogs that needed homes. DON'T DO IT!!!! DON'T PRESS THE BUTTON!!!!!!!!.............................I pressed the button.
It was heartbreaking, so many dogs needing homes and none of it their fault. It made me cry and I tried to stay detached. Then I saw a big shaggy Lurcher. He was lovely, a giant version of Scruffy, the dog I had as a child. Oh what a dilema. I didn't want another dog. But I had space, love and so much doggy paraphenalia that it seemed wrong not to get another dog. Agggghhhhh, I didn't want another dog!
I switched off the computer and tried to put it out of my mind which lasted all of 5 minutes. When I switched on again I tried to distract myself by looking at pictures of Salukis again and then came up with the idea that I would break the bank and get a real Saluki puppy. Not a rescue but a complete blank slate, small and gorgeous, sweet and trainable. But I didn't want another dog.
I managed to survive a few more days but gave in once more and decided to look into getting a Saluki pup. Well it appears to be easier to take a holiday on Mars. I found some breeders websites but none seemed to have any litters. I tried to email a few people to enquire about the cost of a Saluki pup but got no reply - this could have been my dodgy email account but it didn't help. One site even wanted people to explain why prospective owners thought they should be lucky enough to have a Saluki grace them with their presence in their life! Goodness me.
I then found out that there are an almost impossibly small number of pups born each year, something like 140 - and that made the decision, what chance realistically would I have of getting one? Probably none and even if I did goodness knows how much one would cost. So that idea was out of the window. And I didn't want another dog anyway.
I then had another idea. Saluki rescue. I tried to email and again no reply. Bloody email! Mine works most of the time and every now and then won't send anything out. So I tried searching for rescue organisations and quickly came accross www.greyhoundsgalore.org.uk as they were advertising a young male Saluki cross who'd been in a bad way when they picked him up. There was a picture. It hit me in the head so hard I nearly fell off the sofa, it was a perfect cross between Molly and Fergus, this lovely dog had Fergus's eyes and ears and Molly's stripes and gaze, what a wonderful combination, how could I reisist.
I still didn't know if I wanted another dog. Note the progression from not wanting another dog.
Other half by this time had had two weeks of me saying I didn't want another dog but constantly showing him pictures of the shaggy Lurcher and the Saluki cross. In the end he broke and demanded that I choose one of them and we would go and get it at the weekend. I protested, I really didn't want another dog, the heartache after loosing Ferg and Bonnie was too much to go through all over again.
Then I looked at Molly. She was laying on her bed gazing up at me with her huge sad eyes. She looked sad. She looked lonely and over the last couple of weeks she had really pined for Fergus, probably more than the humans in the house. It was though she was saying to me that she wanted a mate, a friend to run around with and get up to all sorts of mischief and continue the legacy of terrorising Other Half. She was spending her days on her bed in the living room while I went about my work in the workshop outside. She didn't want to come with me and lay under my bench, all she wanted to do was nothing. It was so sad.
That was the decider for me. Molly needed another dog even if I was unsure so I phoned Dumfries and Galloway rescue to ask about the shaggy Lurcher. The man I spoke to was really nice and said that another couple were coming to see him that day and if they didn't want him then I could come to see him. I had decided that as I'd seen the Lurcher first I'd give him first go.
The other couple wanted the shaggy Lurcher so that made the decision, I would enquire about the Saluki cross so I emailed Greyhounds Galore.
I got a reply. It was very honest. The Saluki cross was in a bad way. He had had some sort of allergy and lots of his fur had fallen out. He had also been starved and was extremely skinny. His behaviour was quite mad, when he went for a walk he would walk on his hind legs and go completely off his head when he saw another dog. They were very honest and I thank them for it.
I emailed back to ask if I could go to see him the next day.
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