At first I wasn't sure. Chase was irreplaceable. He was a pain. He stole food constantly. He had to go outside, inside, outside, inside, outside, inside in a day more times than I cared to count. And, as he got older, he had accidents in the house. But he was my pain. I loved him. I didn't want to replace him. After a couple of days, however, and a lot of conversations, my husband convinced me we weren't replacing him, we were giving another dog a home. Let's face it, there are tons of dogs out there who need a good home.
For as long as I can remember, my husband has wanted to adopt a retired greyhound. They're typically good with people. They're usually low key and love to be loved on. And they've never actually known a home of their own. They've never had the chance to be pets. It seemed like a greyhound would be the right dog for us. We put in an application and waited. I thought it would take months. It took a week. They had the perfect greyhound for us, the rescue said.
They allowed us to do a trial adoption. I still wasn't totally sure I was ready for another dog. I still get choked up when I think about Chase. I didn't think it would be fair to another dog. But the greyhound moved in with us. Tomorrow will mark one week that we've had him on a trial basis and, I have to admit, I've fallen for him.
He will never be Chase. Which actually helps. I'm not comparing them. He is himself. He's lovable, goofy, and he loves to lick everyone we meet. He's sweet. He's fast. But he loves nothing more than to curl up in a blanket next to me as I read or write. So let me introduce the newest member of our family, Puck.