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Some Things Last A Long Time
Today I killed my best friend.
This friend I have known longer than my wife. This friend would be with me for many years, supporting me every step of the way. Helping me through good times and bad, watching my every move, looking to me for approval, eager to please and ready to do what made me happy. This friend was my greyhound, Alagash. ("Al" for short)
Years ago I was shopping in a second hand book shop on Queen St. (I forget the name of the now-closed store). There were many paintings by local artists on display. I distinctly remember one offering of rocks on a beach - you know, your typical Lake Superior scene. Lying in the middle of the shop was a dog, a giant beast; a Newfoundlander tolerating the customers who were infringing on it's territory. I was struck by it's easy-going attitude and it's acceptance of my enthusiastic rubs.
When I got home I did an internet search for "Newfoundlander" and "rescue". I've always been a fan of the larger breeds. After reading a bit about the breed (I noticed Newfies came with a lot of drool and a lot of hair which was not my cup of tea) I scanned further down the "search results" page and there were a few hits about rescuing retired racing greyhounds.
I learned they were one of (if not the) oldest breed of dog in the world. The only breed mentioned in the bible, they were on the higher end on the scale of intelligence and the lower end of shedding, barking, and activity - 40mph couch potatoes.
During the Black Plague they were saved by monks who took it upon themselves to preserve the noble beasts.
In 1016 the Canute Laws were written and enacted in Parliament. The 31st law makes reference to the Greyhound:
Being (what I consider) a nice person and definitely not mean, this law appealed to me.
Also, greyhounds were the only breed I knew of who smiled!
But I would have to wait. After graduation, I lived at home with my parents (who were kind enough to put me up for a year and a half) while I saved money to travel the world. I made it to Adelaide, Australia where the generous family who boarded me learned of my interest in greyhounds. They took me to a racing track where I met an enormous black male.
I was sold.
Eventually I moved to Sydney where I attended the races every Monday and Saturday. I never placed a bet but I did hang around the kennels to admire the beautiful creatures in my "Soo Greyhounds" ballcap.
After about a year of traveling, I returned to Sault Ste. Marie and decided to move to Toronto to experience big city life. After two years in T-dot and I found myself back in the Soo. My grandmother ("Nonna") needed a roommate and I was finally ready to be settled in one place long enough to own a dog.
Aunty Karen needed a rental car driver to Southern Ontario for a business trip and that's where I came in. I dropped her off at her meeting and swung down to GRA Canada where I met Bill. He had a couple hounds ready to go home. I was hoping for a black one (actually I was really hoping for a grey one - which in greyhound circles was known as the colour blue - but they were beyond rare).
Initially, I took a beautiful black male out for a walk but he was scared of his own shadow. "He's going to need a lot of work." Bill said. Next up was a fawn coloured male - my least favourite colour. "Nita's Rowdy" sprang out of the kennel and jumped up on Bill's van. "Whoah. This guy is feisty.", I thought. As a first time greyhound owner Bill advised me to take Rowdy. "He'll be better off as an only dog." And Rowdy it was. (Later I would change his name to Al.)
Al was there when my grandmother died - misguidingly protecting her from the paramedics.
Al and I got along great. We went for many walks around the neighbourhood; Fort Creek, the Boardwalk, Top Sail Island, Hiawatha, and Sinclair Yards. Eventually I had Al taking a lady I had an interest in on walks.
This lady would eventually become my wife who I later talked into getting a greyhound of her own. A nightmare drive to Southern O. and back in one day yielded two speeding tickets, a van full of diarrhea and our beautiful girl Rosa. This summer, Rosa died unexpectedly doing what she loved most: running like mad with my brother's boxer Danny.
November 2007 was when Al was diagnosed with cancer. His limping had caught my attention. We brought him to the vet for some x-rays where I was shocked to learn that it was bone cancer. He was given 2 to 4 months to live. A week later he broke his leg. He would use 3 legs for the rest of his life.
This brings us to the present, ten months later, Al had lost a lot of weight, was having a lot of trouble breathing and the cantaloupe-sized tumour on his leg was bleeding uncontrollably (mostly at 2am). I agonized the entire long weekend. Should I bring him in or should I wait till he gave me a sign? I had decided to make the appointment.
Al was the toughest dog the vet had ever seen. They might have just been trying to be nice but they mentioned this 3 times. After they had injected him with the entire contents of the needle, he was still breathing, still hanging on. Dr. D had to go and get more "medicine" to put him down. You could imagine how this made me feel. "Maybe he had more life in him. I made the appointment too soon."
Every time I had ever brought him to the vet he would be straining at his leash towards the exit. Today he gave me the sign I was looking for. Straining to go to the operating table.
Our house is quiet now. We're not dog owners anymore. It's been a sad summer.
Some Things Last A Long Time
Your picture is still on my wall, on my wall
The colors are bright, bright as ever
Red is strong and blue is pure
Some things last a long time
Some things last a long time
Your picture is still on my wall, on my wall
I think about you often, often
I won't forget all the things we did
Some things last a long time
Some things last a long time
It's funny, but it's true
And it's true, but it's not funny
Time comes and goes
All of the while, I still think about you
Some things last a long time
Your picture is still on my wall, on my wall
The colors are bright, bright as ever the things we did i can´t forget
Some things last a lifetime
Some things last a lifetime
Some things last a lifetime
I am aware this is a cheesy and corny and self-indulgent but isn't that what blogs are for? And if you don't like it, well as my UK friends say, you can git tae!
Some Things Last A Long Time
Today I killed my best friend.
This friend I have known longer than my wife. This friend would be with me for many years, supporting me every step of the way. Helping me through good times and bad, watching my every move, looking to me for approval, eager to please and ready to do what made me happy. This friend was my greyhound, Alagash. ("Al" for short)
Years ago I was shopping in a second hand book shop on Queen St. (I forget the name of the now-closed store). There were many paintings by local artists on display. I distinctly remember one offering of rocks on a beach - you know, your typical Lake Superior scene. Lying in the middle of the shop was a dog, a giant beast; a Newfoundlander tolerating the customers who were infringing on it's territory. I was struck by it's easy-going attitude and it's acceptance of my enthusiastic rubs.
When I got home I did an internet search for "Newfoundlander" and "rescue". I've always been a fan of the larger breeds. After reading a bit about the breed (I noticed Newfies came with a lot of drool and a lot of hair which was not my cup of tea) I scanned further down the "search results" page and there were a few hits about rescuing retired racing greyhounds.
I learned they were one of (if not the) oldest breed of dog in the world. The only breed mentioned in the bible, they were on the higher end on the scale of intelligence and the lower end of shedding, barking, and activity - 40mph couch potatoes.
During the Black Plague they were saved by monks who took it upon themselves to preserve the noble beasts.
In 1016 the Canute Laws were written and enacted in Parliament. The 31st law makes reference to the Greyhound:
"No meane person may keepe any greyhounds, but freemen may keepe greyhounds”.
Being (what I consider) a nice person and definitely not mean, this law appealed to me.
Also, greyhounds were the only breed I knew of who smiled!
But I would have to wait. After graduation, I lived at home with my parents (who were kind enough to put me up for a year and a half) while I saved money to travel the world. I made it to Adelaide, Australia where the generous family who boarded me learned of my interest in greyhounds. They took me to a racing track where I met an enormous black male.
I was sold.
Eventually I moved to Sydney where I attended the races every Monday and Saturday. I never placed a bet but I did hang around the kennels to admire the beautiful creatures in my "Soo Greyhounds" ballcap.
After about a year of traveling, I returned to Sault Ste. Marie and decided to move to Toronto to experience big city life. After two years in T-dot and I found myself back in the Soo. My grandmother ("Nonna") needed a roommate and I was finally ready to be settled in one place long enough to own a dog.
Aunty Karen needed a rental car driver to Southern Ontario for a business trip and that's where I came in. I dropped her off at her meeting and swung down to GRA Canada where I met Bill. He had a couple hounds ready to go home. I was hoping for a black one (actually I was really hoping for a grey one - which in greyhound circles was known as the colour blue - but they were beyond rare).
Initially, I took a beautiful black male out for a walk but he was scared of his own shadow. "He's going to need a lot of work." Bill said. Next up was a fawn coloured male - my least favourite colour. "Nita's Rowdy" sprang out of the kennel and jumped up on Bill's van. "Whoah. This guy is feisty.", I thought. As a first time greyhound owner Bill advised me to take Rowdy. "He'll be better off as an only dog." And Rowdy it was. (Later I would change his name to Al.)
Al was there when my grandmother died - misguidingly protecting her from the paramedics.
Al and I got along great. We went for many walks around the neighbourhood; Fort Creek, the Boardwalk, Top Sail Island, Hiawatha, and Sinclair Yards. Eventually I had Al taking a lady I had an interest in on walks.
This lady would eventually become my wife who I later talked into getting a greyhound of her own. A nightmare drive to Southern O. and back in one day yielded two speeding tickets, a van full of diarrhea and our beautiful girl Rosa. This summer, Rosa died unexpectedly doing what she loved most: running like mad with my brother's boxer Danny.
November 2007 was when Al was diagnosed with cancer. His limping had caught my attention. We brought him to the vet for some x-rays where I was shocked to learn that it was bone cancer. He was given 2 to 4 months to live. A week later he broke his leg. He would use 3 legs for the rest of his life.
This brings us to the present, ten months later, Al had lost a lot of weight, was having a lot of trouble breathing and the cantaloupe-sized tumour on his leg was bleeding uncontrollably (mostly at 2am). I agonized the entire long weekend. Should I bring him in or should I wait till he gave me a sign? I had decided to make the appointment.
Al was the toughest dog the vet had ever seen. They might have just been trying to be nice but they mentioned this 3 times. After they had injected him with the entire contents of the needle, he was still breathing, still hanging on. Dr. D had to go and get more "medicine" to put him down. You could imagine how this made me feel. "Maybe he had more life in him. I made the appointment too soon."
Every time I had ever brought him to the vet he would be straining at his leash towards the exit. Today he gave me the sign I was looking for. Straining to go to the operating table.
Our house is quiet now. We're not dog owners anymore. It's been a sad summer.
Some Things Last A Long Time
Your picture is still on my wall, on my wall
The colors are bright, bright as ever
Red is strong and blue is pure
Some things last a long time
Some things last a long time
Your picture is still on my wall, on my wall
I think about you often, often
I won't forget all the things we did
Some things last a long time
Some things last a long time
It's funny, but it's true
And it's true, but it's not funny
Time comes and goes
All of the while, I still think about you
Some things last a long time
Your picture is still on my wall, on my wall
The colors are bright, bright as ever the things we did i can´t forget
Some things last a lifetime
Some things last a lifetime
Some things last a lifetime
I am aware this is a cheesy and corny and self-indulgent but isn't that what blogs are for? And if you don't like it, well as my UK friends say, you can git tae!
Labels: greyhounds
posted by Ludger Sylbaris at 6:24 PM
5 Comments:
Joe and Laura,
Al and Rosa were both lucky to have you as their parents. My condolences.
Love, Mary
PS. Thanks for the cry.
What a beautiful and sad story, and such a fitting song.
Rest in Peace, Alagash & Rosa.
I bet they are up in doggy heaven playing ball-tag with Bandit :)
xxoo
Thanks for sharing this story. My condolences to you and Laura.
Thanks for your kind words Mary and Anon.
JOe, I don't know if you'll notice this reply since the post has been up a while, but I thought that was beautiful and touching and seriously almost made me cry. Self-indulgent it was not. You're like me too hard on yourself. Good luck with the new pups this week-end.
I just noticed this.
Thanks for the kind words whoever you are.
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