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Greyhound – Marching Orders?

Posted in Humor

Where's Beamer's couch?

I think I’m on my way out. Perhaps she’s still mad at me for nipping Turbo. But I’m a potato without a couch!

This morning, after my morning walk and breakfast, I’m contentedly snoozing on my couch, limbs twitching with ecstacy as I dream of romping with greyhound friends that have crossed over the rainbow bridge in a meadow far, far away.

The door bell rings. Of course, I leap up to investigate. Three elderly bruisers enter the home. Following Mom’s directions, they hoist the couch and carry it out the front door. Not so much as a ‘May I?” from these guys or from Mom. Now what’s a boy to think?

Is Mom sending me a message that she doesn’t love me any more? Is she telling me that some cute female is going to replace me? If so, perhaps I should file a discrimination charge with the Attorney General’s Office based on gender, or file a grievance with Arizona Greyhound Rescue? After all, I have some rights, don’t I? I’m not going to take this ‘roaching’ down. I’m going to protest.

I emailed my buddy Alyse, down the street, and she and I are going to ask Marlene, Alyse’s Mom, to intervene and talk to my Mom.

I’ve been a faithful companion to Mom. Yes, I do get in the trash. Yes, I am territorial and try to intimidate any dog that comes here temporarily, letting them know which beds are mine and which beds are available to them. No, I’ve never chewed or anointed anything in the home. I’m a very clean pooch and learned the doggie door the first night I moved in. No, I don’t jump on visitors – well, not very often, and I don’t get on Mom’s bed. I think I’ve been pretty patient over the two years I’ve lived here considering the numerous foster dogs that I’ve had to train. So why am I losing my favorite bed?

I think Mom is going to trade me in for a younger model. Yes, I’ve heard about human males trading their wives for a younger version, but trading a pooch – this is absolutely unheard of – don’t you agree? Mom’s love their dogs, sometimes, more than their husbands, and dogs usually rate #1. Why am I an exception?

I’m really out of sorts today. Keep roaming around, trying to find something comfy to snooze on, but my favorite is gone, vanished, no longer available to me.

Please contact my Mom and tell her that I’m worth keeping. I love my Mom and I’m very comfortable in my home and our daily routine. But I’m feeling rejected and one very sad greyhound. I’m waiting for a pink slip but dreading its arrival. Where would I go? I don’t want to leave. H E L P!

Dear Readers: I have purchased a new three-seater couch that will arrive on January 21. I adore my Beamer and he will not receive a pink slip. But he will be thrilled when the new couch arrives. It is big enough for Beams and I to snuggle while we watch T.V. or I’m reading. I’ve tried to explain this to him, but he’s a dog. All he knows is that his couch is gone and, temporarily, he’s not a couch potato.

P.S. You can help local retired racing greyhounds find forever homes by buying bracelets this month (Jan 2010).