Bailey (Hallo Forty Nine) May 15 2000 - July 29 2014
Jul 31, 2014 12:12:24 GMT -5
Hopper and Sandra G like this
Post by campgreyhound on Jul 31, 2014 12:12:24 GMT -5
In 2003 life was very different for us. I had a career as a Case Manager in the field of traumatic brain injury and I had finally been able to buy a home for my daughter and I, our first real home since divorcing her Dad many years earlier.
I had fallen in love with greyhounds several years earlier while on a walk through Fairy Lake in Newmarket. The beautiful brindle boy I met took my breath away, and I determined then that I would one day adopt a retired racer.
That day finally came. After speaking with a man named Bill Cowan, and doing some research, we headed out to the GRA barn on New Year's day, looking for a little brindle girl. I'm sure those of you who dealt with Bill know what that means! When we arrived Bill brought out this glorious big white and red boy named Kiowa my Dodie, he was huge and in your face and 85 pounds of fun. Behind him was his smaller half-brother, a red and white boy with fuzzy fur and big impish eyes that had the Dutch Bahama eye liner. That was Hallo Forty nine. We of course decided to adopt both of these boys (I've yet to have a little brindle girl).
We renamed the boys Cody and Bailey, they came home with us and although we tragically lost Cody to a pulmonary aneurysm after 4 months, Bailey became a fixture and the first of what would be many greyhounds in our home.
Bailey was indeed an impish boy, who loved to play keep-away in the backyard, especially if I was in a hurry to get somewhere. He held me up 3 hours once when he just refused to come in the house and just teased me by letting me get close enough almost to grab him then running away.
Bailey was also a regular Houdini, and is the reason why Camp Greyhound is like Fort Knox. Everything happens for a reason, and each of his escapes taught me more about how to secure our home so that no greyhound would ever be able to break out. There was a lurcher named Frankie that gave us a run for our money once, but that's another story!
Bailey is also partly the reason that the South Simcoe Greyhound group exists. I had been taking my pack (which had grown to include Lou and Romi) to leash free parks to let them run when we had an incident with a Wheaten terrier who Bailey and Romi latched onto and would not let go of. Once was enough for me, and I determined that we would find a safe place for my greyhounds to run muzzled. The SSGG was born shortly afterwards with my friend Deb McGrath and her 2 black girlies Sadie and Storm. Then we added Anne and Peaceful Dove, and many others, and today the membership at the SSGG stands at over 100, all because Bailey and Romi would not let go of that Wheaten.
Once we went to meet our friends at the local ice cream shop to have a cold snack on a hot day. We brought the greyhounds with us and were relaxing at a picnic table. As we were talking, Bailey was eyeing the ice cream and in a flash an entire scoop of ice cream disappeared from Michelle's cone. Behavior like that is why we called him Bailey-bum. No cup of coffee was safe, unless it was black no sugar, in which case he'd leave it to you, otherwise he would steal slurps any chance he got. Bailey truly taught me the meaning of the term “food motivated”.
He also learned to sit at obedience school, and while he seemed to understand “come” he was never reliable with it.
As Bailey grew older he was more gentle and even sweeter; and while he never lost his taste for food I could see this past Monday that the joy was absent from his eyes. He could no longer stand through a meal, and had lost a lot of function in his back end.
On Tuesday afternoon Bailey walked out to the van with me, and for the first time ever he had no leash on. We walked to the van and I picked him up and placed him on his beloved slumberball. We went and picked up Aunt Deb and drove to the Alcona baseball diamond, the scene of many happy days for my boy. We fed him Camp Greyhound crack, his favorite flavors of liver and lung, he had a half pound of bacon and almost a full pound of roast beef. We topped it off with some Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream. When he was full, my vet Paul Neilan crawled into the back of the van and sent Bailey on his way so peacefully that he was simply here one second and gone the next.
Here are some pictures from Bailey's life with us. He was just barely 3 when we got him, and over 14 when he left, so he had a good long stay and lots of fun.
For some reason, this year we dressed the greys up. I'd never done it before or since, but for some reason we just had to make Bailey a fairy princess, since he was such a metrosexual.
Here's Bailey the year we got him, sitting with his littermate Cole(background) at the GRA picnic. As you can see they were quite similar. Cole left last year.
Bailey at Peaceful Dove's birthday party.
He loved snoozing, almost as much as eating.
He became disabled when injured.
And he loved to run, although he really pranced more than ran.
He liked to swim in swamps, not pools.
He was full of kisses.
And he was our poster boy for the Camp Greyhound website.
He could be quite festive at times.
And never minded posing for a picture.
He was the last of our 3 elders, all gone in the past 3 months.
See you at the bridge, sweet boy.
I had fallen in love with greyhounds several years earlier while on a walk through Fairy Lake in Newmarket. The beautiful brindle boy I met took my breath away, and I determined then that I would one day adopt a retired racer.
That day finally came. After speaking with a man named Bill Cowan, and doing some research, we headed out to the GRA barn on New Year's day, looking for a little brindle girl. I'm sure those of you who dealt with Bill know what that means! When we arrived Bill brought out this glorious big white and red boy named Kiowa my Dodie, he was huge and in your face and 85 pounds of fun. Behind him was his smaller half-brother, a red and white boy with fuzzy fur and big impish eyes that had the Dutch Bahama eye liner. That was Hallo Forty nine. We of course decided to adopt both of these boys (I've yet to have a little brindle girl).
We renamed the boys Cody and Bailey, they came home with us and although we tragically lost Cody to a pulmonary aneurysm after 4 months, Bailey became a fixture and the first of what would be many greyhounds in our home.
Bailey was indeed an impish boy, who loved to play keep-away in the backyard, especially if I was in a hurry to get somewhere. He held me up 3 hours once when he just refused to come in the house and just teased me by letting me get close enough almost to grab him then running away.
Bailey was also a regular Houdini, and is the reason why Camp Greyhound is like Fort Knox. Everything happens for a reason, and each of his escapes taught me more about how to secure our home so that no greyhound would ever be able to break out. There was a lurcher named Frankie that gave us a run for our money once, but that's another story!
Bailey is also partly the reason that the South Simcoe Greyhound group exists. I had been taking my pack (which had grown to include Lou and Romi) to leash free parks to let them run when we had an incident with a Wheaten terrier who Bailey and Romi latched onto and would not let go of. Once was enough for me, and I determined that we would find a safe place for my greyhounds to run muzzled. The SSGG was born shortly afterwards with my friend Deb McGrath and her 2 black girlies Sadie and Storm. Then we added Anne and Peaceful Dove, and many others, and today the membership at the SSGG stands at over 100, all because Bailey and Romi would not let go of that Wheaten.
Once we went to meet our friends at the local ice cream shop to have a cold snack on a hot day. We brought the greyhounds with us and were relaxing at a picnic table. As we were talking, Bailey was eyeing the ice cream and in a flash an entire scoop of ice cream disappeared from Michelle's cone. Behavior like that is why we called him Bailey-bum. No cup of coffee was safe, unless it was black no sugar, in which case he'd leave it to you, otherwise he would steal slurps any chance he got. Bailey truly taught me the meaning of the term “food motivated”.
He also learned to sit at obedience school, and while he seemed to understand “come” he was never reliable with it.
As Bailey grew older he was more gentle and even sweeter; and while he never lost his taste for food I could see this past Monday that the joy was absent from his eyes. He could no longer stand through a meal, and had lost a lot of function in his back end.
On Tuesday afternoon Bailey walked out to the van with me, and for the first time ever he had no leash on. We walked to the van and I picked him up and placed him on his beloved slumberball. We went and picked up Aunt Deb and drove to the Alcona baseball diamond, the scene of many happy days for my boy. We fed him Camp Greyhound crack, his favorite flavors of liver and lung, he had a half pound of bacon and almost a full pound of roast beef. We topped it off with some Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream. When he was full, my vet Paul Neilan crawled into the back of the van and sent Bailey on his way so peacefully that he was simply here one second and gone the next.
Here are some pictures from Bailey's life with us. He was just barely 3 when we got him, and over 14 when he left, so he had a good long stay and lots of fun.
For some reason, this year we dressed the greys up. I'd never done it before or since, but for some reason we just had to make Bailey a fairy princess, since he was such a metrosexual.
Here's Bailey the year we got him, sitting with his littermate Cole(background) at the GRA picnic. As you can see they were quite similar. Cole left last year.
Bailey at Peaceful Dove's birthday party.
He loved snoozing, almost as much as eating.
He became disabled when injured.
And he loved to run, although he really pranced more than ran.
He liked to swim in swamps, not pools.
He was full of kisses.
And he was our poster boy for the Camp Greyhound website.
He could be quite festive at times.
And never minded posing for a picture.
He was the last of our 3 elders, all gone in the past 3 months.
See you at the bridge, sweet boy.