A week has passed, and honestly, it’s taken that long to gather my thoughts about our greyhound Brody (Sep 2001 – Oct 9, 2012) without dissolving into inconsolable tears. We’ve had so many greyhounds through our home – and our hearts – but naturally the bond is deeper with the dogs who become family.
I’ve mentioned Brody’s arrival in other posts – he was our second foster greyhound and our daughter announced “We’re keeping this one!” the moment the leash was in my husband’s hand. It was the day before Valentine’s Day nine years ago she’d noticed a heart-shaped spot of white on his neck and took it as a sign.
Fortunately Brody was a perfect fit in our home.
He didn’t mind the occasionally rough hands of our youngest child. Our other greyhound, Faith, was instantly as enamored with Brody as our daughter. The two dogs became fast friends and the team who would train so many foster dogs to the joy of retired life.
Brody loved having fosters because they always arrived with a ‘kit’ which included a new toy. He was smart enough to know the toy in the bag wasn’t his, but he was also smart enough to figure out how to steal it. I gave up breaking him of his thieving habit and finally started storing those kits on the top of the fridge. Sometimes running a domestic zoo is about knowing which battles are lost.
We lovingly called Brody the Labrador of greyhounds. He had a goofy, not-so-elegant way of running and he was happiest if he could romp around with a tennis ball in his mouth. He would jaw on those tennis balls until they popped, then ask for a new one.
He loved fluffy toys too – and made it a personal mission to kill any squeakers as quickly as possible. To save my sanity (and cash) I started buying the toys with replaceable squeakers. It became a game. He’d kill the squeaker and then look at me with a ‘please-please-please’ expression.
When I gave in, he’d follow me to the cabinet where I kept the squeakers, his tail whipping back and forth until I handed it over so he could kill it again.
He taught most of our foster dogs how to bark – even though typically greyhounds don’t do that. He sang happy birthday at every celebration, except this past year, when he taught Bandit how to do sing it for him.
Both vocal and ornery, he would often sneak up behind me when I was vacuuming and bark to make me jump. Yeah, I loved him all the more for it.
What’s not to love about a dog who makes you laugh?
Brody was a treasure. Outliving Faith and eventually Levi and when he was done grieving the two of them, he helped us decide to keep Boo. There are so many moments of joy Brody brought to our lives, right up to his last day.
So many countless moments forever ingrained in my memory that a few of his quirky habits are memorialized in the greyhound character in The Matchmaker’s Mark and he featured prominently in the Adopt A Greyhound Guide.
To love, and be loved, by a friend like Brody is an abiding blessing that grief, while painful, only honors.
Live the adventure!