The DU Lounge

Last edited Mon Apr 28, 2014, 05:21 PM - Edit history (1)

adopted a greyhound about 12 years ago. They named her Jessie. She'd been a professional racer. When she came into their home, she was like a newborn puppy in many ways. For one thing, she didn't know what stairs were and had to learn they weren't laid out flat, and that she would have to walk up them and down them. She walked into trees until she learned that trees were physical objects. If someone walked around a corner in the house and disappeared from her view, she seemed to think the person had simply vanished, and she didn't go searching for them. All she'd ever known was her cage and the track.

About a week after she was adopted, my son saw her standing up by the front room window, ears perked, body tense, as she stared at something outside. My son put her on her leash and let her lead him to what had caught her interest. It was a plaster rabbit lawn decoration in a front yard across the street. Jessie stopped about 10 feet from it and stood perfectly still, poised as she waited for the rabbit to start running so she could chase it. Finally my son walked her to the rabbit. She sniffed it, and then put her head down and looked ashamed. My son said that she looked around as if to make sure no one had seen her.

Jessie was the sweetest dog ever. She lived to be around nine. We still miss her very much, and we named her favorite pond by our house Jessie's Pond.