Wild Kingdom (Alternate title: I come by it honestly)

eris esoteric · #1 06-26-2007, 04:54 AM

Did I ever tell you guys how my family ended up with four greyhounds at one point?

Years ago, my father bought a taxi company. It was in Lawrence, MA, and the neighborhood the stand was in was, to put it mildly, not a nice area of town.

So, my parents decided that we should get a guard dog for the taxi stand.

Our last pet, Laddie, a Welsh Corgi, had died a little bit ago. Someone tapped my parents to the idea of adopting retired racing greyhounds, to save them from being killed when their racing careers were over.

So, Fuzzy came into the house, first as a pet, and then second as a potential guard dog for the taxi stand.

My father took Fuzzy down to the stand to try him out for a couple days. Thing is, greyhounds are trained FROM BIRTH to jump and START RUNNING when they hear a loud noise. Plus, with their natural low body fat, they're a little more nervous than your normal large dog. As a consequence, they're really NOT possessed of a disposition suitable for guarding. These issues also prevent their being good seeing eye dogs. Trials have been run.

So, no, Fuzzy didn't really work out too well as a guard dog. So Dad brought him home. But we still needed a guard dog. So, Candy.

Candy, whose racing name was Can't Stand Still, ended up being my baby. She was a brat. She was obstinate. She was pretty much the exact creature you'd get if you crossed a cat and a bitch. It was love at first site. This was the dog that would, if she decided you weren't giving her enough attention, go to the kitchen, find one of YOUR shoes, pick up said shoe in her mouth, walk PAST you with your shoe in her mouth, and then run upstairs, hop on a bed and wait. (Un?)fortunately, as bright and devious as she was, she was also flighty. Again, she really wasn't the sort of secure presence needed in a guard dog (remember why we got her?) in a bad neighborhood. So, Howie.

Howie was personally watched over by god's own angels. He was absolutely the sweetest creature I have ever had the grace to meet in my life (with the possible exception of Agnes, the headbutting cat). And calm! Howie was known to fall asleep at the vet's office. After getting a shot. But, Howie had his downside, in regards to being a guard dog. He was calm, yes, but that was mostly because the poor dear had never had a clue wander loose in his head. He was dumb. He was friendly. Fortunately, he was also the luckiest creature I've seen in my life. I'm not joking about the angels. He must have had a herd of them, watching over him in shifts. The day after we got the notice about how you mustn't EVER let greyhounds EVER even LOOK at chocolate, who ate the two pound bag of Hershey's Kisses and didn't have a bad moment over it? Howie. Which of our hounds would run away if you gave him the slightest moment of inattention? Howie. Who wouldn't come as many times as you called him, but would somehow end up caught by complete strangers EVERY single time? Howie. The dog took off one time during a snowfall so bad he ended up losing his dewclaw and not noticing it. But would he let us catch him? No. This is the dog that, when he got loose, I would have to walk up to complete strangers and ask them to call him. Worked like a charm. So, no, Howie really wasn't qualified for guard duty. So, Tess.

Ah, Tess. Now, I'm honestly of the opinion that at the point we asked for the second greyhound to act as a guard dog, the people at the rescue operation had our number. I'm willing to bet cold hard cash that when we called, they rejoiced, because they knew they'd found a good home for that ONE weird dog that nobody would take in.

Tess was a tragedy. She had all the elements. Tragic hero, tragic flaw, tragic end. Tess was the only dog we've ever had to put down for being violent. She gave it a good go. While Fuzzy was alive she let him be alpha. When poor Fuzzy died in his sleep, Candy took over, but Tess didn't like it. Candy didn't care about that, though, so peace reigned. But when Candy passed away, Tess wasn't about to start taking order from Howie, which was just as well since he wasn't capable of giving any, anyway. So, Tess was alpha. This was bad. After Candy passed, my parents took in two other dogs. Tess took bites out of both of these, and Howie as well. How she could even MANAGE to get mad at Howie, I can't imagine. But at the point where she actually savaged the little Welsh Corgi (I wasn't living at the house at this point, I don't really remember the poor thing's name) the decision was made to put her down.

But, no, Tess didn't do well on her trial as guard dog either. At the point we took her into the house as a pet, the quest for a guard dog had ended.

Now, my point here isn't to retell the greyhound epic out of pure nostalgia. I am simply laying the groundwork for a new, possibly epic story. You see, I got a voicemail message from my mother today.

It seems that they have found mice inhabiting the kitchen. So, my parents being my parents, they have hit on a brilliant solution. They have gone to a shelter and adopted a cat.

Their first cat. Ever.

In spite of the fact that they already have two dogs and two lovebirds, they have adopted a cat. I am told that they expect the cat to catch the mice.

My assumption is that by the time I come due for my next visit, two years from now, they will have adopted a small series of cats to catch the mice. And, then they will have simply thrown in the towel and adopted the mice.

But hopefully, I'll be able to keep a straight face when I call them back tomorrow night. They want advice on cats. First advice: HANG THE DAMNED BIRDCAGE FROM THE CEILING.

But at least, I don't think I'll have a moment's boredom when I go visit them next week...

**jgibson2**[$] · #2 06-26-2007, 06:48 AM

OK, now you AND Cindy both need to publish books. In your case, 2 of them. One with hotel stories and a second for pet stories.

eris esoteric · #3 06-26-2007, 08:04 AM

"What have you got in your mouth? Show me what you've got in your mouth."

What? Oh, sorry, Judy. Just practicing for next week.

Things I need to cover:

NO MILK!
NO FISH!
NO DOG FOOD!
Oh, god, claw clipping.
Kitty wipes.
Arm & Hammer. Sifting kitty pan liners.

Oy.

**lynnzop**[$] · #4 06-26-2007, 09:55 AM

Oh, Eris, that story about the greyhounds was hilarious.

I thought at first this was going to be a story about "How Eris has now picked up yet another cat"...uh, you think the apple does not fall far from the tree?

**hadassahchana**[$] · #5 06-26-2007, 10:36 AM

Eris' book will be the best thing I've ever read - Eris, that was hilarious! And of course, now I want a greyhound. If I ever get a larger property, the greyhound people are already waiting for us, since #1 has talked to the rescue folks several times.

And I absolutely cannot wait till you come back. The stories are bound to be great. Maybe we should pay for you to go back more often?

*emeleel* · #6 06-26-2007, 10:42 AM

If Eris's stories don't dissuade you from getting a greyhound, let me rope in DH to tell you about friends of his who used to rescue greyhounds. (Although, at least in their case, they never labored under the delusion that they could possibly be guard dogs!)

eris esoteric · #7 06-26-2007, 12:05 PM

Cindy, greyhounds don't need as much space as you'd think. Just make sure there's enough room on the couch. And the bed. And, really, any elevated, padded surface.

**pippadaisy**[$] · #8 06-26-2007, 01:55 PM

Just what you need... greyhounds. What h=number is open> six or seven?

*emeleel* · #9 06-26-2007, 02:12 PM

Seven. Which I'm thinking at Cindy's house would turn out to be a rather unholy number, indeed.

**hadassahchana**[$] · #10 06-26-2007, 08:43 PM

Libby's best friend at the dogpark is a gorgeous stripy gh named Chloe, and she is the nicest dog ever. And she is the only dog there who can chase Libby fast enough to make her happy. Libs is apprently the only dog who enjoys being chased all afternoon, so it's ideal. Dixie, otoh, just enjoys grabbing sticks and running with them so that all of the labs will chase her.

And I've heard this before about greyhounds and their couches. Isn't that funny, considering that they are so fast and agile?

**theworm**[$] · #11 06-26-2007, 09:21 PM

What a GREAT story!!!
Did I ever tell you my cat/mouse story?

eris esoteric · #12 06-26-2007, 10:35 PM

Ironic, heck. These guys know suckers when they see them. If you don't let them on the couch, they do this complicated manuver in front of you, lowering themselves onto the floor, while looking at you, saying "Well, you know, YOUR kind made me run, OOF, for a living, EH, and keeping me in cages, EEK, that I couldn't lie down in, OOF, but if you don't want to, OW, make up for that, STEADY, it's OK, I'll just lie, oh, you'll let me on the couch? zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

mtbat · #13 06-26-2007, 11:46 PM

Oh Eris, thank you, I loved that story.

Your parent's and my father's Aunt and Uncle would have gotten along great.

They had a small dairy farm outside of Gloster(shire whatever)

There was a race track near by. One became two, and eventually 15. Fifteen greyhounds. I had a blast the summer I went to England and stayed with them a few weeks.

**jgibson2**[$] · #14 06-27-2007, 12:11 AM

Now I'm beginning to think a greyhound might be the perfect companion for my Aussie. Couldn't be an alpha personality, though. Would probably have to be male. She likes boys and doesn't play well with girls.

eris esoteric · #15 06-27-2007, 09:40 AM

Well, I'll tell you, each one of our babies was unique. And really, there's so MANY that need a GOOD, LOVING home, it would be a breeze to find the 6 or 8 that would make your pac... er... home complete.

And I did finally get hold of the parents last night. You've seen Meet the Fockers? With the answering machine message?

Mom: "Oh, and you should SEE him, he's got this lovely brown coat with oh, gold splashes, and he's JUST the prettiest...
Dad (overriding from the background): "Oh, stop it, Jill*. He's an alley cat. Just a plain looking alley cat..."
Mom: "Now you stop it, Darren!* He's the prettiest thing I've ever seen! Don't listen to your father. He's just the sweetest"

*names have been changed to protect the deranged.

So, anyway, rattled off a long email to my dad with instructions for care (including when, and when not to call the vet). Poor little Alex. At least I know he's got a good home.