Jeri Smith-Ready

Meadow hits middle age

(Sung to the tune of "In the Ghetto" by Elvis Presley):

On a hot and gray New Hampshire morn,
Another little baby puppy was born
In the kennel

(in the kennellllll)

And her owner sighed

'Cuz if there's one thing that he don't need
It's ten little worthless mouths to feed
In the kennel

(in the kennelllll)

Today Meadow turned seven, which makes her officially a senior dog. She celebrated by running in counterclockwise circles around the yard for no apparent reason, just like old times.

I can trace my dog's pedigree back 33 generations (36 on her mother's side), but I can only trace my own for four.

Moreover, on Greyhound-Data.com I found paintings of some of her oldest ancestors. Here's King Cob, born in 1838.



And here's one of Bedlamite, born in 1852. In color!!



(Click on either painting for larger versions.)

Sometimes when I look at Meadow's stats, I try to imagine her life at the kennel and at the tracks. Whether it was happy or not (and she shows no signs of ever having been unhappy), it was certainly not the innocent, carefree puppyhood and family life most dog breeds enjoy.

For the first two-and-a-half years, she had a job, one she apparently didn't do very well. Now her main responsibility is to keep the floors clean of toast crumbs, ice cream, and (sorry) hairballs. She also volunteers as rabbit muncher and couch warmer, though neither of these duties were in the original job description.

Mostly she just sits around looking cute:



Happy Birthday, Meadow!

Labels: pets

• posted by Jeri @ 9:03 PM
• 9 comments