August 21, 2018
Permit me to introduce myself. My name is Adin, professional name Bronze Star. I come from the racetrack in Arizona where I was known – and you may note the tone of pride in my howl – as a blood dog. That’s two words. I am a hound but not a bloodhound. While I didn’t set the track on fire with my speed, my very blood possesses unique qualities that made it desirable to veterinarians everywhere. I was, to cut to the chase, a blood donor – albeit not voluntarily. I’ve saved the lives of countless dogs in need of transfusions. That’s the up-side. The down-side; I’m only four years old and already tapped out. That’s both metaphoric and literal. On the verge of being, ahem, put to sleep (those race track boys can’t get their tongues around “euthanized”) I was scooped up by Amazing Greys, the greyhound rescue folks in Tracy, California. And here I am in Cloverdale. My new landlady, a woman who clearly owns stock in Kleenex, explains that I’m not replacing the dog who just passed away. Holly is irreplaceable. I am my own dog. And hers. A typically hinged woman, she felt unhinged without a greyhound even as she continues to grieve. If you email my landlady she’ll send you the video link of my last run at the Phoenix Dog Track. And now, another nap.