Greyhound Gang: Blue's Story

True Blue

Blue He was born on a cold spring day in April almost 6 years ago. One of eight siblings, he came out of his mother's womb ready to run. Over 4000 years of breeding to chase anything that moved was personified in Blue. As a puppy, he far outshone his siblings in his desire. If it moved, he chased it; and usually caught it. And if by chance he didn't catch it, he'd hunt and hunt for it, until he had to be forcibly brought in. He wasn't going to give up. From sun-up to sundown, while his siblings were tumbling and barking and playing with each other, Blue was scanning the horizon, forever looking for movement. He was born to sight.

The eight were all sent to the track together, but Blue was the most driven. His powerful, handsome body would flash around the track during training, determined to catch the mechanical rabbit that raced just ahead of him. He had no stop button. There was no "OK, I've done my job". He was always chasing.

That chase took its toll. Blue raced, and raced well, making money for his owner for over three years. But it was never about the money to Blue. He never knew what was really on the line. He just knew that if it moved he had to chase it. And if he could, he would be there first to get it. Centuries of breeding, years of running.

And those years took their toll on his body. His last year of racing, his heart said the same to him everyday. "I'll chase it, I'll get it. It's mine, I deserve it. I want it." But his body couldn't keep up with his heart's commands. He dropped not one, but two muscles in his hind legs because his desire outshone his body's abilities. He'd hobble; he'd use his hips to propel himself. He'd do anything to keep his body moving, forward, searching. He wouldn't stop. But he had to stop. He'd be in his crate, standing, ready, whining about why he wasn't getting the call. Other dogs were being dressed, were being sent. He was good, he could do it. Just let him show everyone.

But that last year, seventeen starts and no firsts. Oh, a few seconds and thirds thrown in, but not what he was like in his glory days. And his breeder/owner made the decision. He would be given to the local vet school. There he'd be used as practice surgery for third-year vet students. He'd be one of the 900 greyhounds given by greyhound breeders and killed by pre-vet students who as doctors would have the motto "First do no harm."

Blue lay in the gray, sterile vet school kennels. It was quiet. Those kennels were always quiet. The dogs there knew; knew that something was not right. Knew that they weren't in a place that they would ever leave. Knew that there was nothing they could do about it. Blue was one of six that had a card on his door. The card that said he was slated to be cut and killed the next day.

To the end, all Blue was thinking about was that he really wanted to find something that moved, to catch it in his gaze and to put chase. He would often talk to the people he saw there, pacing his cell, telling them to give him just one more chance. It really was all he wanted. One vet student stopped to listen. She stopped and she looked at Blue, and she looked deep. She saw in him everything he'd been and everything he could still be. And she took him home. And from her home, she sent him to an adoption group to find him his forever home.

To Blue, home will always be where the chase is. And where his heart is. He stays true to his nature whether it's the teddy bear or the rabbit he's chasing. He has no time for the hobbling, the stiffness in his joints. He only has time for whatever is moving. Even in sleep, stretched long on the six foot sofa, his heart speaks to this feet -- at all times true -- "Move, chase, run, catch, chase." True Blue, always and forever.