Speedy's brand new world

Dusty, Speedy and Luna
Lily shot this photo of Dusty, Speedy and Luna.
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Speedy officially has been initiated.

The 8-year-old Macau import hasn't yet moved into his permanent home with Dusty and me. But he got a taste this morning of what his new life is going to be.

Dawn and her girls drove up this morning to meet us for a leash-walk outing at Plantation Heritage Park and got a chance to see Speedy take in all kinds of new sights and sounds and smells.

The girls and the hounds
Lily and Rosie chilling with the hounds in a shelter area at the park
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Speedy's having quite an awakening. Dusty and I got him out three times last week for a stroll around the block in Friends of Greyhounds' neighborhood in Sunrise. He remained in constant attention, total focus, during those walks. Dusty and I got quite a workout trying to contain him -- he pulled on that leash with everything he had to get to the next place as soon as he could. He wheezed and coughed practically the entire time -- the the martingale was choking him, he was pulling so hard. I was able to get him to slow down and stop pretty much on command, but he couldn't contain himself when I would give permission for him to go.

He showed some signs that he was learning to slow down on his own a bit as those walks continued. But Sunday at the park was a different story. I turned Dusty's leash over to Rosie as big sis Lily took charge of Luna for our walk at Heritage Park. So I was able to give my full attention to the new guy. It was a workout. Everything -- ducks, trash cans, picnic tables, Frisbee Golf baskets, passing bicycles, trees -- fascinated the hell out of Speedy. I spent most of the walk commanding him: "Slow, Speedy." He's heard that enough now that he's starting to catch on to that command -- he relaxed a couple of times at it to give some slack in the leash and keep pace with me.

Dusty and Speedy in the Kia Koach
Dusty and Speedy in the Kia Koach after our walk in the park
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We did learn the prey drive is fairly strong when we saw a small dog across the way scampering on a retractable leash. Speedy went into a full-on greyhound twist to try to escape his leash and get after that meat. I shortened my grasp to the leash clasp and knelt down to get him in a bear hug to calm him. That worked, but it's something we'll have to put a special focus on moving forward as he gets acclimated to life in a townhome community with neighborhood dogs and the occasional feral cat.

I had been thinking about it for several days before my gut made the decision last Sunday to tell Michelle and Jerry that I wanted to bring Speedy home. I told them that I didn't want to take him out of the kennel just yet and leave Victory King there by himself. We're going to give it a little more time. A couple of folks are talking with FoG about giving King a home, but there's nothing solid. But I'm thinking at this point that Speedy will come home sometime in the upcoming week. We'll play it by ear for a few days.

Me with the hounds
Another Lily photo

Location: Plantation Heritage Park, 1100 S Fig Tree Ln, Plantation, FL 33317, USA

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Highlights

About Dusty and me (Part 2)

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W hen a racing greyhound suffers an injury, like Barts Moondust did in a race in Miami last August, her handlers generally drop her into a kennel for a couple of days to see if the injury heals on its own. If it doesn't, the owner retires the dog and in most cases leaves it up to the handlers to dispose of her. Dusty at Friends of Greyhounds, August 2016 ---------- Her injury was really bad -- obviously enough that her owner gave up on her immediately. I don't know the chain of events between Aug. 13, when she hobbled through her last race, and Aug. 15, when a Friends of Greyhounds blog post says she landed in the FOG kennel in Sunrise, FL. I had been volunteering at FOG for just a few weeks at that point. I reported for duty one day after Aug. 15, and Michelle pointed out the new arrival -- a young, gorgeous shiny black dog in the end kennel with a blue soft cast covering the lower part of her right hind leg past the hock and down to her toes. Michelle told me she ha
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We're back!

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Hi, all. Dusty and I are back. Let the blogging resume. We went radio silent three months ago after delivering Sly to her foster family. Dusty and I looked up at that point and realized that our buddies at Friends of Greyhounds had decided to close their kennels to new dogs and our favorite gathering haunts would no longer be available to us. Dusty hasn't gotten the hang of doing a proper selfie. ---------- So we decided to take a blogging break, at least for awhile. We did make the mistake of letting our domain expire, which is why you could no longer find the website if you went looking for it. But the domain was still ours to claim, which we did yesterday, about three days before it expired completely. As many of you know, an amendment to the Florida Constitution to ban greyhound racing will be on the ballot in November. Most everyone fully expects it to pass, and racing kennels are starting to move out of the state in anticipation of the shutdown. If it does happen,
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A new Twitter greyhound friend

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Novara relaxing at home ---------- I was half-watching something on Frank's TV on Thursday night when I picked up my Android phone and began scrolling through the replies to a @RoguePOTUSStaff Twitter thread about TrumpCare. Random Tweeter posed a procedural question about what might happen in the Senate, and I just happened to know the answer. So I replied to Random Tweeter's question and continued on. A few minutes later, I got a notification that Random Tweeter replied to my reply twice, so I had a look. His first reply was a followup TrumpCare question, and I replied again. But his second reply was completely unexpected and took my tweeting into a whole new direction for the next hour. Random Tweeter checked out my profile and tweeted me a compliment on my cover photo of Dusty. He mentioned that he also has a rescue greyhound and tweeted me a photo of her. So Random Tweeter (he asked me not to reveal his Twitter handle) and I veered off into a tweet-versation abo
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Dusty's romp in the park

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N ot too many things in the world Dusty likes more than a romp at the dog park. I like to get her out for about 30 minutes a couple times a week to let her burn off some energy. It's still easy to get outside in some pleasant weather in the mornings before the sun gets too intrusive. Taking a breather but guarding her prize: She'll grab that ball and play keep-away for a few minutes if I make a grab for it ---------- I used to buy cheap tennis balls for her. But I've discovered she loves those squeaky rubber spike balls -- even though the squeakies don't last for more than about three minutes. After those things die, you can hear the air making compression sounds inside the ball when she chews on it. But she doesn't mind -- she loves chewing those things, and the balls themselves seem indestructible. Supposedly, the spikes massage her teeth and gums and provide some dental-health benefit. I dropped a link to one for sale at Amazon.com at the end of this
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