Gracie's Story

Our story begins many years ago. A young black greyhound was transported from Florida to Maryland to be adopted. She ran a few races but wasn't much interested in that lifestyle so retired early; ready to be a couch potato for someone special. She lay waiting in a bed of fall leaves the day I arrived to bring her into my life. 

Self-defined as “not a dog person”, I was attracted to the breed for their calm nature. “You mean they almost never bark and spend much of their time lying around relaxing? Sign me up!” I remember teasing myself for buying a cat in dog’s clothes. But she was more than that. She was my friend.

Bringing her home came with a list of instructions. First up, always, always and I mean always use a leash when outdoors. Okay, got it. On our first potty break I had the leash wrapped up just like they told me. At the time, I lived on a second floor apartment and racing greyhounds do not learn how to climb (or descend) stairs. So as we walked out of our door and looked down the stairs, she definitely gave me that “What am I supposed to do now?” look. I coaxed her a bit and she decided to take her best shot, which was a flying LEAP down the stairs. It took her two bounds to go down 11 stairs. And since I was securely attached to her leash, I went tumbling after. That was our first day together. November 10, 2001. 

I spent the next three weeks unable to walk due to a foot injury. Turns out that is plenty of bonding time because we were inseparable after that. We had our struggles with house training since they don’t teach that at the racetrack either. But I noticed the more love she got, the less pee on the floor. Alright, she’s got attitude…just like her mommy.

Over the next 11 years, we traveled numerous times back and forth from Maryland to Michigan to visit family. After finally moving back to Michigan, I relocated four more times. She became so used to moving that home was wherever I was. As long as I was there, she could adjust. Her separation anxiety was most apparent when she would stand in front of me and lean in whenever she saw a suitcase, as if to say, “You aren't going anywhere without me, Sister!”.

She was 8 years old when I married Dan and all of a sudden there were kids. Small ones. Running around, playing, being noisy, and occasionally falling on top of her. She faithfully stepped aside a bit, allowing them to take my attention, knowing they were important to me. That’s not to say that we didn't have a resurgence of her peepee attitude, but I still loved her and felt guilty for being too busy to just lay with her on the couch like the old days. With the bringing home of a new baby, the poor thing had to step further aside as my attention and time was consumed. Regardless of my life having changed from the days of just her and me, she remained ever faithful. She would simply and quietly just be wherever I was. With all of this said, I would like to openly and publicly thank Ms. Gracie for being my companion through a time in my life when she was the only thing that didn't change. I thanked her the day she died and this post will forever remind me of what she meant to my life.