She was handed over to Golden State Greyhound Adoption who spade her, gave her all her shots, and then put her through what basically amounts to a doggie spa day in preparation for adoption.
And that's where I come in. Just two months later I was visiting friends who were fostering Miss Bessie. I had no intention of adding another dog to my household, but we all know those are famous last words.
As it turns out, adopting the dog I renamed Hazel turned out to be the very definition of the word "serendipity" because six months later, I lost my other beloved greyhound, Olivia, to bone cancer. She was just six years old. Adjusting to the sudden loss has been a painful journey, but every day Hazel helps heal my heart and soothe my soul. She makes me laugh, brings me joy, and reminds me why I love dogs--and especially--why I love greyhounds.
Which may explain why lately, I'm feeling a familiar "urge." I'm picturing coats--another fawn maybe? A brindle perhaps or a black and white? I'm looking at the "available for adoption" site and playing with names. I'm imagining Hazel tucked in my left arm and another dog tucked in my right. I've learned there's another haul of newly retired greyhounds arriving in October and I'm thinking maybe it's time. Hazel needs a companion and I need another dog to fill the hole in my heart left by Olivia.
Right now that unknown dog is still a racer greyhound at a Florida track. Living in a small crate, dining on "3-D" food and living life as nothing more than a commodity. And some day next year, I'll be writing a similar post marking the one-year anniversary of this dog's last race.
The race in which she won my heart. Just like Hazel.