Running For His Life

August 11, 2005, a red-fawn Greyhound, HMS Brimstone, not yet two years old, ran and won his first race at the Flagler Stadium in Florida.

Two years later, HMS Brimstone would be shipped to Arizona where he would be sold to a compulsive gambler who thought that owning his own string of racing Greyhounds would make him rich. Of course, the gambler went broke.

When authorities caught up with the gambler, only three of his five Greyhounds were alive. HMS Brimstone was one of the survivors. He and his two lucky buddies were rescued by Greyhound Adoption Center in October, 2007. Just a week before devastating fires blazed in San Diego County. HMS Brimstone had cheated death a second time.

In honor of the season, HMS Brimstone was given the kennel name of Harvest by Greyhound Adoption Center. Kennel volunteers called him Harvey for short. He was evacuated to safety along with the other kennel dogs when fires threatened the GAC kennel.

Today, HMS Brimstone, Harvest, Harvey, is known to friends and family as Bingley and is presently munching down breakfast in the kitchen.

But he still runs. Every night, he runs circuits in the living room. He likes to be cheered. I wonder if he is reliving his glory days or if he thinks he must run or something bad will happen to him. Or maybe he's just like a lot of professional athletes who like to keep a hand in the game.

We'll never know. But we are happy beyond words that he survived to be our dog.

The Summer Of Our Discontent

The absence of the promised post might have given a hint to my select readers that life has been busy in Portia's Mom's household.

Portia's Dad had his second knee replacement early last week. Once more, Magic and Bingley spent quality time at Windsong and were happy, well cared for dogs when I picked them up Monday morning. Thank you Mike, Michelle and Jessica!

Yesterday, John came home from the skilled nursing facility where he stayed for a few days after his discharge from the hospital.

So our little family is once again re-united, plus a machine or two to exercise and ice John's new knee.

But I would have had to have been much more preoccupied than I was these past ten days not to have noticed the screaming headlines both here in the United States and abroad. Most particularly in England. What is happening in England is heartbreaking for Friends of Portia. Just the names of some of our beloved dogs give a hint that this household has close affiliations with the Sceptered Isle--Champers, Portia, Bingley. Indeed, Portia's Dad is an Englishman and most of his family lives there.

We pray for their safety.

However. Through it all. The surgery, the recovery, the screaming headlines, Bingley and Magic give us an anchor. Stock market on a roller coaster? They must be walked. U.S. credit rating takes a hit? They must be fed. They never lose their trust. They always are loyal. They want to be good doggies.

Would that more humans showed more doggie virtues.

Two Years

Hang in there, Faithful Readers. A Modest Proposal for addressing the dual problems of homeless dogs and negligent dog owners is still in production.

Meanwhile. Happy Second Anniversary to Friends of Portia.

Bingley is still with us, and, in another month, he will celebrate his eighth birthday. This will make him the oldest rescue dog that John and I have had. And the sweetest tempered, I must add.

Magic has made herself an important part of our lives. Her unique blend of dignity, iron will, and introversion keep us amused and enthralled.

We still remember Portia. Unforgettable Portia. The picture of decorum on walks. The epitome of mischief in the house.

Rest in Peace, Beautiful Portia.