More Good Dogs in Flux and the Story of Babs

A couple of months ago-- okay, three months ago -- I posted about a couple of good dogs looking for homes. We were inundated with emails about them and they found homes very quickly. Thanks so much to all of you willing to open your hearts and homes to them.

Now we know of a few more. They are not here at Timbreblue, but I can put you in touch with their owners. I can tell you about a couple of them now and there are a couple more I believe with be available soon. None of these dogs are rescues. They are well-bred, well-loved and well-cared-for and are only looking for homes because life has a way of throwing curveballs. Most of them are mature adults...eight or nine years old, Their owners have decided that their circumstances have changed to the point that it would be better for the dogs to start the second halves of their lives in new homes where they will be just as pampered. This is a hard, hard decision to make and shows how much these dogs are loved.

Before we get to them, though, let me tell you about Babs. Babs came to us when she was 12 years old and many of our friends were horrified that her owners could let such an old girl go. But when the family had acquired Babs, they were mostly-at-home folks with a stay-at-home mom and three kids. Years came and went and suddenly the kids went to college, Dad was working out of town all week, and Mom went back to an eight-hour job...with a two-hour commute.  Suddenly little Babs was spending all day and half the evening alone. She was miserable. Her family called to ask if we thought rescue would take her. She was still in good health, but her quality of life had been greatly reduced in the last year or two. We said sure rescue would take her, but we had a better idea. She could come live with us.

It took Babs all of two days to adjust to us as her new family and we enjoyed her for a year before she was diagnosed with cancer. We wouldn't have missed that time with her for the world, and her last year was spent surrounded with love and other whippets, The moral of Babs' story is that older dogs can be perfectly content in a new home as long as they are spoiled adequately.

Babs changed my attitude entirely about rehoming older dogs. I came to realize that these owners, far from being uncaring or irresponsible, are taking the best option for the dog rather than for themselves. It is an extremely difficult and selfless decision to allow an old friend to start a new life in another loving home when the first one is no longer the best one. Once when I was placing a young adult dog with  family with children, the eight-year-old daughter exclaimed, "Now she will have more people who love her as much as you do!" Out of the mouths of babes...

Next up, more good dogs looking for homes!

Join us on Facebook!

If you enjoy social media, did you know that there is an entire group on Facebook devoted to Timbreblue Whippets and friends? We have our official page here: https://www.facebook.com/TimbreblueWhippets -- but we ALSO have an informal group for discussions and sharing photos and stories, asking for advice, and general chit-chat.

The group is "closed" just to protect the privacy of our members from search engines -- anyone is welcome to join, just click the button to join the group and either Jo or Sharyn will approve your request asap so you can join the conversation! The Timbreblue Group on Facebook is located here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/timbreblue/

Trick is happy and settled in his new home

Thank you to all who replied to the blog post about Trick needing a home. Trick now has a wonderful new family, and he is living in New Jersey with a new "brother", a red brindle whippet named Chili.

Trick has been renamed "Enzo" and is able to accompany his owner and Chili to work every day. As you can see from the photo of the boys hanging out in their owner's office, Enzo and Chili are very lucky dogs!

Run, puppy, run!

One of Party's puppies is now named "Bones" and lives near DC with a doctor who is also a triathlete (down girls, he's taken). Charlie has been working with Bones to build up his stamina gradually since he is still growing. The following is a photo Charlie shared with us of himself and Bones resting after a run, taken by the aforementioned  lucky girlfriend.

Charlie and Bones

White whippets and Hamlet

Seeing all of Jo's little white pups makes me think of our first whippet, Hamlet. What Hammie lacked for the show ring, he certainly made up for in personality. Put him in a crate and he would smush his nose up against the bars and make a pig face. Leave him behind and he'd make the most peculiar noises -- almost birdlike, but definitely unhappy! He lived to ride in the car and would wait patiently for hours while we shopped. Although he never finished his championship, he took Johannah to many, many wins in Junior Showmanship, though she had to work for every one of them,,,Hamlet believed in making things challenging for her.

For starters, I could not be anywhere in the building. Though he loved Jo dearly, when he went in the ring, you would have thought he was my dog. he whined and flipped and turned around in circles looking for me. The only way to prevent this act was for me to simply leave the building (and make sure he saw me leave!) And oh, did he love to give her a hard time. She'd have him perfectly set up on the table in the ring, and he'd move a foot. She'd fix that one and he'd move another one. And on and on and on.

When Jo grew up and moved to Boston, Hamlet went with her. When she moved to Indiana, he went with her. When she moved back to Columbia, he went with her. But when she married and moved in with Derek, there he drew the line. He began chewing his foot, making it bloody. He tore up a dog bed and spread it around the house. He forgot to be housebroken. (Keep in mind, this was a ten-year-old dog by now!)

Finally Jo threw up her hands and asked if he could come live with me, at least till his foot healed. As soon as he arrived here, the foot-chewing stopped, he never destroyed another thing, and he remembered to pee outside. Frankly, I think he was just tired of moving! Or maybe he just wanted to retire with Mom. He knew he had my number. Jo took much less nonsense from him!

Hamlet had a terrible heart murmur (we never bred him, obviously) but lived to two months shy of 15 years old. When he was 13, he collapsed and was paralyzed. We put him on prednisone, I held him in the porch swing and cried for hours. It was a Friday night and the vet said to wait till Monday and see how he was. By Monday he was lifting his head, and within two weeks, he was walking. From then on, he lurched like a drunken sailor, but he was one happy dog. Walt took him for walks every day, though we could not trust him off-lead. It was amazing how fast he could disappear even with his zombie-like gait.

The day Walt had to carry him back to the house, we knew it was time to let go. He's buried next to Judy Street Dog, U-CDX, but since they really didn't like each other much, we put a board between their graves. We used to joke that they were beating each other up with their walkers. Neither was strong enough to get in much of a punch, but they'd occasionally go a short round.

We still miss you terribly, Hammie. I wonder if you have come back in one of those little white puppies of Rini's.

Adventures in microchipping

Geisha (fka Lightnin')

About five years ago we decided that we really wanted to microchip our puppies before they went home. I checked around and found we could order the chips from Microchip ID Systems at a reasonable price, and besides, the president of the company, Jean Anne, is a friend I've known for years. I was a little embarrassed that we didn't already chip the puppies, but she pointed out we all have to start somewhere. So I asked what she recommended. She said there was nothing to inserting them, -- hey, no big deal, right? so we got in the first batch. I had heard the needles were big, but good lord, these suckers looked like javelins! And I was supposed to stick them into my little whippet pups??

Skiff

The thing is, I can't do it myself. I can give shots almost blindfolded (not that I would try it), can tube-feed a puppy, can administer fluids to a dehydrated dog...but show me that big fat microchip-deploying needle and there is NO way. I tried it once and the puppies' skin was so thick I couldn't get it through and after shooting about three chips across the room, I gave up and took the pups to the vet and paid $35 each to have them "professionally" inserted.

By the next litter, I happened to have made a new friend, a Pembroke Welsh Corgi breeder who had just moved to town. She chipped that litter for me. But then she moved away.

So last year I hauled two whole litters up to a friend well north of Harrisonburg (about two hours) and she did them for me. Very long drive with a car full of carsick whippet puppies, but I did enjoy the visit with my friend..

Then there was a litter of four. I just sent them home with the chips and asked folks to get their vets to insert them, but I wasn't very happy with that. A couple of vets said they couldn't insert them because they "weren't familiar with that chip." Oh please. More like, "You didn't buy it from me, so I'm not helping you out." The chips come in a sealed package already loaded into a syringe. How much is there to know?

Moka (fka Bonnie)

So anyway, a couple of weeks ago, here I was with 21 puppies (remember, this is two litters, the first one supposedly an impossibility!) and no way to microchip them. I sent the first two home with their chips. Then daughter Jo came up to puppysit while we went to look for a car -- forgot to mention that I totalled mine a couple of weeks ago, but that's another post. When we got home, I mentioned the chipping dilemma and she said, "I can do that!"

I looked at her dubiously. "Have you ever done it?"

"Nope," she admitted, "but how hard can it be? Lots of breeders do it." Jo used to work for a vet and I knew she could give shots, but chips???  I asked, "Have you seen that needle?"

Ranger (fka T-Bone)

Yes, she said, she had, and she still could do it. I should mention that though Jo is my daughter, she is a bit over 30 years old, so I wasn't entrusting my pups to a seven year old or anything like that.

So we decided to give it a shot, so to speak. We put the puppies in the kitchen sink because when you're doing something like this, you want them to feel a little insecure so they won't fight you. Something else to think about, you know, like, "Why am I standing in this metal bucket in the kitchen?" and "Am I going to get a bath???" The idea being that when they discover we are just going to plunge a sword into their poor little shoulders, they'll think, "Oh well, at least it's not a bath!"

First, I told Jo, we had to organize all the chips and get the paperwork ready. Since I don't own a scanner, we had to be very sure we put the chip we intended into the puppy we intended. I can spend hours "getting ready" to do something I am putting off, but Jo watched me shuffle papers and syringes around for about two minutes and said, "Let's get this show on the road.."

Magic Sam

My job was to go bring the little vic-- uh, puppies into the kitchen. I picked Siren first. She is staying here for the long term, though is going off to summer camp for a month with my friend Sat Ananda in Charlotte. I figured if we messed her up, at least it would be my puppy and not one I'd sold to someone else. (Precisely how we would "mess up" a puppy wasn't clear, but looking at that needle, I knew it could be done.)

I watched this one. Never again. The puppy was brave and didn't make a peep, Jo did the deed efficiently and apparently painlessly, my blood pressure shot up ten points and I almost hyperventilated. Siren did even squeak, but I think I did a lot of moaning and groaning, complete with sharp intakes of breath and ."Ooooohhhh"s. .

Sparrow

We agreed that I would simply hold puppies and look the other way. That worked much better. Only one cried a little. Maybe Johnny Ace?

Anyway, it all got done, the puppies survived, my BP has dropped to normal and there was not one drop of puppy blood spilled! I call that a success. And better yet, I have been taking the puppies for their going-home exams, about six at a time, and my wonderful vet has been scanning them for me to be sure the chips "took." So far every one has shown up and been the correct number (so I guess we really didn't need to spend two hours organizing, the way I would have done without Jo's...um...encouragement)

So if any of the puppies fall out of their cars on the way home, they'll be traced back to me!

Memphis Minnie

Sharyn

Coursing with Lurchers

Yesterday I loaded up Aero and Katie to try a little coursing. It was a private party and I was coming as the friend of some invitees. Nellie, Betsy and I met up with Julie, her whippet Rio and Aussie Tansy and headed out. A couple of one-lane bridges and lots of windy roads later, we arrived at a gorgeous home in the country with a beautiful barn and acres of pastures.

The rest of the party attendees mostly had big dogs. Really big dogs. Turns out our host and hostess breed lurchers and most of these were their pups from over the years. I guess it's kind of like a Timbreblue reunion but open to more guests and other breeds (we limit ours to whippets because though they can be fairly bigoted about other breeds, whippets generally get along with each other.)

Lurchers are a purpose-bred mix of any sighthound breed with any herding breed, and they are

generally used to bring in game. Our hostess told me they wanted dogs who could take down larger game than rabbits. (I didn't tell her about Boo and the groundhogs and I don't think she believed my story about Django and the deer, but I let it go.)

Lure coursing is a competitive sport developed for sighthounds -- the hounds chase a white trash bag attached to a string on a pulley. The course goes through a big open field with various turns and ends up back at the lure machine. It is supposed to test a dog's instinct for chasing game, but most dogs who are taken lure coursing never do hunt live game. It's just a doggy sport these days. On this day, there was no competition. It was a private get-together of friends and their dogs. We had a lovely day relaxing in the field watching dogs run the lure and not run the lure. Nellie had her Border Collie Jeb, who spent the whole day "giving eye" to the plastic trash bags. When his turn came to run, he tried his best to herd them, and I guess he figured he did okay since they went back to where they started. He must have thought those were the smallest, fastest sheep ever.

Our vet tech friend Marlena showed up later with her Boston Terrier

Barley, who was so eager to run I thought he would have an asthma attack waiting for his turn! That little fellow could fly! Julie's Aussie would not run, but whippet Rio is a pro and we gave Katie a try teamed up with him. She was a little confused at first, but figured out quickly what to do and though she never caught Rio, she was no slacker.

Next we thought, well, if Katie knew what to do, maybe she would show Aero. Wrong. Julie helped me get them lined up, the lure took out, we let the dogs go, and they headed off at a dead run. In the wrong direction.

They'd apparently decided to go for a lengthy "free run" up at the house, where there was a kennel, a barn, lots of interesting smells, a few other people.... Well, you get the idea. Julie and I hiked up that way to call them back, but they were having none of it. I kept catching glimpses of them darting in and out of hedges and checking out the horse barn. Zip zip zip.

"Food Chick is calling us."

"Yeah."

"Shouldn't we go back?"

"Are you kidding??"

"We might get in trouble!"

"So what's she going to do, beat us?"

"Well, no, but she is going to be pretty mad."

"Nah. she's a pushover. She'll be so glad we didn't get hurt she'll forget she's mad."

"But--"

"Oh grow up, kid! We're whippets! We don't take no steenkin orders!"

A lady who was headed down to the coursing party helped us by blocking them off finally. Eventually Katie came dashing back to me, grinning from ear to ear, and not long after, Aero came looking for her and we managed to snag him too. Then the long walk back down to the coursing group.

That was it for Aero, though I promised him we would try again another day after my heart rate recovered from this time. And after he has had a few obedience lessons. While Katie had the decency to look a little guilty for not coming when I called, Aero didn't even look my way!

Aero has a history, you know. A few years ago when he belonged to Cal Perry, he was sold to a breeder in Ohio. En route to his new home, he overnighted in West Virginia and escaped. In spite of lots of people searching for him, he seemed to have disappeared. This was in December, I believe. He lived for two months on his own in the WV mountains in the dead of winter. Eventually he was found and recovered, though by then his new owner had changed her mind, so (lucky for me!) he went back to Cal's house. But let's just say I was not looking forward to calling Calvin and telling him that Aero was on the lam again!

Anyway, after the great adventure, we let Katie run again with Rio and she almost caught him this time! Jeb the Border Collie got to "herd" the bags a few more times, and an interesting dog called a Leopard Cur took a shot at it. She decided against it, however, and ran back to her mom.

After the sun began to go down we all retired to the house for drinks and a really good dinner. Katie and Aero curled up together and slept till I came back out and I think they would have quite happily slept in the car all night.

Lots of fun and it made me wish once again that we had some regular lure coursing closer to our house. Watching whippets doing what they are bred to do is an experience that anyone who loves the breed should have!

A Letter from Jake

We get phone calls and emails every day from our puppy owners, but very, very occasionally, we get one from a puppy himself. This one arrived today from Jake, formerly Tater of the Thanksgiving Litter. It sounds like he is proving that puppies are not for the faint of heart!

--------------------------------------------------

Hi,

Me don't know if I'm liken this or not.....momma said her was gonna send me to the outhouse...me don't know what that is???? I libe in a house and the only other house I remember is with gramma Sharyn and grandpa Walt.

Maybe Me should tell you how come momma is gonna send me there...Me was feelin' kindda like liddle...well almost everything here is greyhound supersized....Me was on the back porch with Rocky....Me likes Rocky, him doesn't tattle tail on me...he's not like Cody who tells momma everything me do's...ANy way Me decided to make the blue outside dog bed my size...it was lotsa fun! First Me took off the tag and that opened the bed up so me could start bitting off pieces of the foammie stuff...me was having fun bitting and throwing and making the bed just my size!

Momma peaked out to see how we were doing and ZOWieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee WOWieeeeeeeeeeeeeee me neber heard such a scarey noise...holy guacamole!!!!!!!!!! holy

crap!!!!!!!!!!!!! Whadda mouth my momma has! As her was pickin' up the foammie stuff her said her was gonna send me to the outhouse....some how me don't think me is gonna like it there!

Mom said that her didn't think me should be a mattress maker when me grows up...her liked it better when me was trimming the bushes out back last week...me not convinced that me wants to be a bush trimmer when me grows up so me will try something another time...me thinks me better give momma lotsa kisses before I try something else!

Jake

PuPpY PoWeR

Northeastern Pennsylvania

Our celebrity whippets!

It was an exciting weekend for some of our family. Lucia and Conner (from Marnay -- great daughter and grandson of Ivy) won a place in the Smiling Dogs slideshow for The Bark magazine. They're the last photo in the slide show and are pictured with owner Vanessa and her friend Susan. Watch the whole slideshow -- it will definitely give you a lift!

And some of our New York contingent, Rebel, Simone, and Henry did a photo shoot for the Houndz in the Hood whippet clothing line. Really. Here is the Scintillating Simone, who belongs to our dear young friend Rachel of Brooklyn.

The Handsome Henry, owned by Rachel's mom Joy, apparently has become a real New Yorker. Here's a photo of him after he shopped till he dropped. The whippets were paid for their services in merchandise and are definitely going to be the best-dressed dogs on the streets of New York.

People who have managed to stick with this sometimes-blog may remember Rebel as Red, the shy boy who came to us from a breeder who was retiring. He had never been away from home in his eight years, and there were times I despaired of ever finding him just the right home. But Walt and I believe that with only a few exceptions, there is a home for every dog, so we just kept waiting and watching and working with Red here to develop his confidence.

Well, out of the clear blue came an email from Nance in Long Island who just loves working with dogs with problems! Boy, did I have a dog for her. The only trouble was getting him to her. And again Fate was kind. It happened that Joy and Rachel had brought Simone and Henry down to stay with us for awhile when they went to England. They agreed to take Red (now Rebel) back to New York with them when they picked up their crew. And you would never know Rebel as that same shy boy we had here. As Nance says, "Forget Fabian...there's a new stud in town!"

Congratulations to all our stars and an extra hug for Rebel. I always knew he had it in him to be a great dog!

The tomato-mozzarella salad mess

Here's a Barnaby story with a bonus....the recipe for a fantastic tomato-mozarella salad is at the end!
___________________________________
It was Saturday evening. Friends were over for dinner. The first
course was going to be a wonderful fresh tomato, basil & mozzarella
salad with pesto and toasted pine nuts. I had placed my lovingly
assembled salads around on everyone's plate, and left the dining room
for maybe 4 minutes to call people to the table. While I was gone,
Barnaby had quietly gone around to EVERYONE'S plate, tossed each and
every tomato slice on the floor, the basil leaves on the chairs, and
had eaten every single slice of fresh mozzarella and every single pine
nut from each and every salad. The moral of the story is either, a)
never leave food unattended with Whippets around, or b) Whippets love
fresh mozzarella and pine nuts, but NOT tomatoes or basil.

(Being a dog person, I would have been happy just eating what Barnaby
had left, but since our guests were NOT dog people, I thought I better
not.)
___________________________________
Layered Tomato-Mozzarella Salads
(4 individual salads)

1/4 cup pine nuts
1/3 cup Newman's Own olive oil and vinegar dressing
2 drained oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes, chopped (about 1 tablespoon)
2 cups (1 oz.) loosely packed baby salad greens
2 large tomatoes (about 1 1/2 pounds), each cut into 6 slices
1/4 cup prepared pesto, divided
1/2 pound fresh mozzarella cheese, cut into 16 slices
16 fresh basil leaves

Preheat oven to 350. Spread pine nuts on ungreased baking sheet.
Bake 3 minutes (lightly brown).

Combine dressing with sun-dried tomatoes.

For each salad, place 1/2 cup salad greens on plate. Drizzle with 1
tablespoon dressing and 1 teaspoon nuts.

Place one slice tomato over greens.

Spread with 1 1/2 teaspoon pesto.

Top with 1 teaspoon nuts, 2 slices cheese and 2 basil leaves.

Repeat to make second layer, ending with tomato slices.

Drizzle with remaining dressing.

Garnish with additional basil, if desired.

Keep Whippets away!

Drooling Barnaby

Another one from Jeanne in Pennsylvania, owner of our own Boo and Barnaby and the long-suffering Emma from Surrey Hill. I just love these people!

=============================

Barnaby is what one might call an extreme drooler, a true drooler extraordinaire. Let me tell ya, that dog can DROOL! If he knows there is the slightest crumb coming his way, the drooling begins ... slowly at first, but soon it comes forth in copious amounts.

Well, today I pulled up to the bank drive-through (with the B-Boy and Emma in
the car, as usual), and placed my transaction in the little plastic tube that shoots it back to the bank teller. Just like Pavlov's dogs, Barnaby and Emma know that very soon that little plastic tube will shoot back in our direction, containing two dog biscuits, and Barnaby starts to drool.

I have no idea what took the teller so long today with our transaction (maybe she was hunting the dog biscuit box?), but we sat there for at least five minutes. By the time the biscuit-bearing tube shot back our way, poor Barnaby was hyper-drooling! AND, the woman in the car behind us was more than a little irritated. She was shaking her head, waving her arms, demonstrating her disgust with me AND my dogs (even though WE were not responsible for the delay!).

By the time I opened the biscuit-bearing plastic tube, Barnaby was standing over me, and the drool was just pouring into the tube like a waterfall. (I was actually rather impressed with his aim.) Since the woman behind me was so very anxious for me to get out of her way, I did not take the time to wipe
Barnaby's drool from the tube. Childish -- yes. Unsanitary -- maybe. Gratifying -- most definitely!

~Jeanne