[pyrnet] Re: rescue

[Reedialer1@aol.com]

i have never done pyr rescue (not since the complication with the rescue dog 
i tried to adopt almost killing my greyhound) but i have done greyhound 
rescue and (hope thats ok to say on pyrnet, lol) its very rewarding. with 
greys they dont even know how to climb stairs, eat food out of anything but a 
dish, they dont know windows or any house sounds. they are like martian dogs 
really.  i cry when its time to let them go and i ache for them but i also 
know that i have done my part and that someone out there is going to love 
them with all their heart. so i cry and i get on with my life and my 3 dogs 
and i try to think of the good side, not how i hurt for my foster. 
  attached is an article i wrote for a greyadopt newsletter, in case anyone 
wants to read it. its about letting a foster go. 

                            For Slick

When he first came from the transport he wasn't the dog I had hoped to 
foster.  I wanted someone easy and without problems for my first time.  I was 
inexperienced in fostering so I didn't want to deal with any 'extra stuff'.  
Slick had cuts over his eyes and on his inner thighs.  He has such bad worms 
that you could see them alive in his feces.  His ears were infected and had 
that characteristic odor.  When they cut his nails he bled and bled. He 
looked like a gangly mass of bones and thin skin.  He looked like too much 
trouble to me.  I wanted the sweet big male (I always like the big boys) and 
even asked for him. I didn't even think that Slick was especially pretty.

Here I am 2 weeks later and this isn't the first time in my life I have been 
totally wrong.  Slick is the most perfect grey I have ever known.  He has 
learned so much and come so far that I can hardly believe that a fortnight 
has passed and not some immeasurable wrinkle in time instead.  He's learned 
so much more beyond 'how to do stairs' or 'eat from my hand' or 'walk on a 
leash politely' or 'kennel up' on command for a dinner of unmodified crunchy 
kibble.  I see him now as a beautiful boy, tan and sleek and sinewy.  His 
deep brown eyes reflect such serenity and adoration when they gaze upon me.  
I have become his world and he has fit so beautifully into ours.  My other 
greys have accepted him as if he has always been here; even my alpha bitch 
who isn't especially fond of anyone else seems to think that he is 'her' dog. 
 I no longer see any of his imagined faults or failings, all I see is a boy 
who epitomizes love and gentleness.  He was a phoenix, emerging from his 
fright and fears to become a new hound that is secure and happy and ever so 
willing to please.  I will miss him and what I can't have.  I will miss not 
going to our first all-greyhound obedience class and letting our bond work 
for us or proudly getting a CGC on him.  I will miss not seeing his happy 
face when I wake up in the morning or his gentle, patient ways when he waits 
for his leash to be clipped to his collar.  I will miss the nuzzling and the 
way he walks onto my lap and presents himself for stroking. I will miss all 
the days and nights of his companionship with an ache that has started before 
he has even left.  

So why am I torturing myself like this? Why did I put myself through this 
fostering?  First of all, I had no idea that I would feel this way.  No idea 
that he would matter to me beyond just a 'temp' dog.  I hold fast to the 
knowledge that his new home will love him and that he will become the magic 
for them that my first grey was for me.  A magic that couldn't have been 
described, but only experienced.  I have no idea where my life was before 
greyhounds entered it but I do know where my life is now.  I am so blessed 
for it that I wanted to share that with someone else.  So that's why I 
fostered, even if I emotionally flunk fostering, even if I am hurting inside 
losing him, even with all this, its still worth it.  Goodbye Slick, you were 
easy to love, now go bless your REAL home.