© 1996-2010 Gay Currier

"He's terribly sweet, but not terribly bright. Eager to please, very compliant for a hound. Sad eyes, he doesn't smile." So began the call I received a couple of weeks before Christmas in 1995. I had recently contacted Greyhound Friends for Life In Woodside, California about adopting a retired racing Greyhound. At the time I had 2 dogs, (an English Shepherd and a Welsh Springer Spaniel), a declawed house cat and more than 30 birds. I was advised it might take some time to find a dog to fit my particular circumstances but they would be happy to try. My timing had been close to perfect. Only 10 days after my initial inquiry a six to eight month old puppy, raised with cats and turkeys became available. Was I interested? I could hardly say yes quickly enough. A major storm delayed our picking him up for a couple of days but gave us a little extra time to ready the crate, collect equipment and puppy proof the house. When the day came my husband and I and our two dogs journeyed 3 hours to meet what we hoped would be the newest member of our family. Upon arrival at the foster home we were greeted warmly and taken out back to see the dogs. We were amazed at the friendliness and affection displayed by these wonderful animals as our faces were covered with kisses again and again by dogs which could only consider us complete strangers.

The puppy's name was Toy Boy and he was a knockout. "Blue" in color, he was warm, affectionate and very gentle. I called to him and he came without hesitation. I moved away, called and he came again. So far so good. I picked up each foot, examined his ears, opened his mouth to check his teeth, ran my hands over his entire body. I could do as I wished and he didn't seem to mind in the least. What a guy!

Next question. Would he get along with our current canines? Toy Boy's foster mother had consented to our bringing our dogs with us so the three of them might be introduced on neutral ground. The canine introductions went well, lots of happy smiles and wagging tails. So far so good. With a graceful leap into the crate in the back of our Suburban, Toy Boy joined our family and we were on our way.

Once home, we unloaded the puppy last (some puppy-he was 26 inches tall), allowing our 2 older dogs to romp in the yard for a few minutes and take care of business. We penned first one, then the other while allowing the puppy time to interact with each one individually. Toy Boy (by now known as Toby) happily loped after our English Shepherd as she patrolled the yard. He and our Welsh Springer Spaniel played tug of war over a soft toy. Everyone seemed to accept the situation, if not entirely with good grace, at least without any major objections.

Toby was very insecure when he first arrived. This was understandable knowing the number of changes he had gone through in his short life. The first week he would hardly let me out of his sight. When I would move from room to room he would move with me as though we were physically attached, his head cocked around my leg as I walked. If I left without him for even a minute he would cry and become anxious. Day by day his confidence in us increased. After about two weeks he relaxed to the point where we could leave the room and he would remain curled up on the couch, although his head would be up so he might watch our every move through the doorway. In less than a month he had progressed so well that we could leave for work without a sound of protest, to be greeted with joy and kisses upon our return.

An obedience class was Toby's first real challenge. From the very first he accepted the noise and confusion of being in class with 15 other dogs with great calm. "Sit", "stand" and "heel" came naturally. "Down", "stay" and "come" were a bit more difficult for him to fathom. At graduation his long legs flew as he scrambled across the linoleum at the "come" command, bringing laughter throughout the room at his eagerness to shorten the distance between us. And he held his "stay". I was thrilled!

Next came an agility class. Agility is a competitive sport emphasizing teamwork between dog and handler as they negotiate a timed series of obstacles that has become my passion. At the time I was at a fully fenced agility training facility two to three times a week so I decided to enroll Toby in a beginning agility class just to see if he would like it. He loved it! By the end of the first class he was trotting gracefully over the 3 foot dog walk, scrambling up and over the half-height A-Frame and racing over 12 inch jumps to sit on the pause table. Toby's enthusiasm, grace and athletic abilities are such that when he negotiates obstacles he literally has everyone's gaze upon him. He's in his glory when he's working a course and enjoys playing on the obstacles second only to chasing squirrels that are fool hardy enough to run our fence line.

Toby's not a puppy anymore. At 12 years of age he stands 30 inches tall at the withers and his long fuzzy puppy hair has been replaced by a shiny sleek coat of steel grey now speckled with white. And while Toby still has sad eyes, he now knows how to smile.