Pasha's 13 Reasons to Adopt a Senior Greyhound

The memories of love and companionship with your senior greyhound will stay with your for a lifetime, no matter how long they are with you.

Gracie came to us at 10 years old and we lost her all too quickly to cancer 14 months later. Not a day goes by that I don't have happy thoughts about Gracie and every other senior that we have helped to the rainbow bridge.

We still have five senior ladies waiting for their forever homes. May is almost over, but every day of the year is a greyt day to adopt a senior greyhound.

Pasha's 13 Reasons to Adopt a Senior Greyhound

Age is only a number. At 10 years old, Buddy loved to chase his stuffies around the acre. At 11 years old, Buddy was still out there running like a youngster. And now, at almost 12 years old, Buddy still likes to run with the rest of the dogs.

Buddy doesn't count his age in years, he just looks at his birthday a day for extra treats.


Ahem, we only have 10 days left of our fabulous adopt a senior month. These five ladies are still looking for their forever home.

They will only take up a small place in your home and trust me, your heart will be the happiest it has ever been once one of these ladies have wrapped thier paws around it.

Jammer, an endearing eccentric old lady

Today's story is very special.

Adopting a senior is a journey. From the moment a senior enters your house, your life and your heart change forever. Every journey is different and you never know what lies around the next bend.

Jammer came into her momma's life at the age 0f 10 1/2 years. The vet thought they might get to share one year together if they were lucky, instead they gave each other over four of the best years together.

Jammer has taken a piece of her momma's heart with her, but she didn't make her heart smaller, she gave it room to grow.


Jammer came to live with her family at age 10 ½. She is now 14 years, 9 months. All things considered, vet bills for Jammer have not been particularly extraordinary, but it HAS been a slow and steady dribble of this and that.

Jammer has been, and continues to be, very determined and steely (by the way, her race name was Steele Jammin).


Jeff saved Jammer from the Longview animal shelter after she had wandered out of her yard. Her adoptive mom just never came looking for her! She was skinny and covered with fleas. Jammer’s had to endure some other bad experiences in her past, too, so she’s hanging on to this happy ending as long as she can. Jammer’s like that little old white haired lady who can swing a mean cane.

She keeps her “younger” (8 ½ and 10 ½ ) sisters in line and remains the boss lady of the house.

An endearing image, that I am fortunate enough to still see repeated, is of Jammer digging holes to China in the soft soil out behind a garden bench. Dirt will be flying from behind the bench, then it will stop, and this sweet and tragicomic little white face will pop up and peep out between the slats in the bench. “Are you watchin’?” “I’m somethin’ , aren’t I?”
Yes, Jammer…you are indeed.


"Jammer leaves behind many lives that she has touched through her tremendous spirit and goofy personality. I don't think any of us will forget her obsession with sniffing door handles and her sweet snaggle tooth. Despite her age and her apparent poor health Jammer had many happy years in the Sale household, sharing it with a number of senior girls and at the cutting edge of endearing eccentric old lady behavior. She was a joy to be around and will be sorely missed."

Steele Jammin • July 12, 1994-May 19, 2009

Pearl • A perfect gem

Her name was Pearl…actually it was Rosie (Nan de Rosie), but I changed it. Pearl let me know in no uncertain terms that she was not happy about the name change, even though I thought ‘Pearl’ perfectly suited her silver-gray brindle coat, and the fact that she was a perfect gem. Regardless, in her lifetime we compromised on Rosie-Pearl.

Pearl came home with me when she was almost nine years old, and left this world seven weeks short of her fourteenth birthday. She was able to die peacefully at home after a too short five years of retirement. I have to say that Pearl was the perfect dog…the essence of the regal, dignified greyhound image. She had huge, soft and soulful brown eyes and stilt-like legs that didn’t quit. She was sweet, gentle and all innocence in her demeanor.

Her perfection wasn’t evident as a ‘youthful’ nine year old. That first six months after adoption she could hardly contain her enthusiasm for chasing things. She would jump straight up onto retaining walls in pursuit of cats. Unfortunately for her, she would land on the top of the wall with her front and back foot FROM THE SAME SIDE atop the wall! Splat onto the sidewalk! I’m surprised she didn’t break legs and ribs in those first few formative months. Once, going after a squirrel while on leash, she managed to jump  six feet off the ground into the fork of a tree! Not to mention the time, very soon after arriving home with me, she accidentally snapped open the clip of her leash and went running down the sidewalk into the darkness of the night. Lost! (I thought). But no, as I made my way home to get the car and go searching for her I found that she had circled around and found her way back to her new home all by herself. She was standing on the porch barking at the front door to be let in.

All her wild ways eventually became tempered with time and she became the proud, serene lady of her platinum years. The sparkle was replaced with a very special glow. Rosie, Pearl, Rosie-Pearl still shines.

Pasha's 13 Reasons to Adopt a Senior Greyhound

They get what a "couch potato" is right away. Picker was three months shy of 12 years old when we adopted him. It took him a month to figure out why we really had a couch.


Wouldn't you like one of the wannabe potatoes on your couch?