Greyhound Adoption in Puget Sound, Washington and British Columbia
Dearly missed by Ruth and Scott Wilson and Sandy Hinman
Â It is with extreme sadness, sorrow, and despair that we announce the passing of our Greyhound Kid Rattler.
For those of you who had the opportunity to meet him, I’m sure you’ll remember his quiet and polite demeanor. He was a noble gentleman among gentleman. He was and still is one of the most amazingly pure spirits we’ve ever met. He lived in our home for 9 wonderful years, yet with each year, he continued to conduct himself with unwaivering thankfulness and gratitude. He asked for so very little yet gave so very, very much. Greyhounds as a breed are imprinted with pack mentality due to their early years in the racing enviroment. The ones that are lucky enough to get adopted, basically and simply put just want to be by your side…all the time. And it is this simple and somewhat innocent desire that they want most.
He passed away on November 11. He was here at home in his favorite pillow with a staggering amount of his toys collected over the years surrounding him. He left us with the same dignity and grace he possessed every second, every hour, every day…every year.
He will be missed in equal proportion to that joy and delight gained in sharing his life.
Snapshots of Rattler:
Joy, unbounded happiness, when a leash was picked up, it meant, time for a walk.
Contentment to lie on the floor, or on the couch watching me work at my computer.
A good morning nose nudging my arm to see if I was ready to begin my day.
A burst of speed for the abandon of running up the driveway, leaving me puffing
along to catch up.
He loved the beach, his long nose stretched eagerly toward the pounded sand, along
the singing curling waves rushing, but not catching us, in the breeze stiff enough
to carry a kite dipping and sailing on high.
Content on his pillow or a towel in any strange place, when his people were near.
Snow, exploding with energy he loved to play in the snow, with exuberance leaping
and jumping from side to side like a giant rabbit.
Nightly, on his last late outside tour, he would finish with a trek on the porch deck
and stand peering through the rails, absorbed in deep meditation, the subject unknown
to his humans, but they waited with him to complete this ritual before bed.
If I read in bed, he would hop up on the end and curl along side to help me concentrate.
When I sat at my desk, he would lay on my bed, content to be near some of his people.
He didn’t bark, he communicated with his eyes, his joy to see you, his sorrow that you
had to leave, his contentment to be near and to be your friend.
He is missed in equal proportion to that joy and delight gained in sharing his life.