December 23

It was time to go off to school and Cinderella wanted nothing to do with it.

I found myself crawling through a blackberry bush tunnel to catch her. Karen took one look and said, she’ll be a garden hound.

Off to the races she went, but she really was only interested in playing and charming the socks off of everyone who stopped by to greet her. She retired and Karen flew down to sunny Florida to play in the kennels and bring her back to the frozen tundra of Oregon.

Welcome home Miss Cinderella.

Tundra two – Humor zero

Everyday in Oregon makes me long for Florida. Over and over again.

This morning when we woke up, we woke up to snow, lots of snow on the ground. And it was coming out of the skies like if it didn’t all hit the ground at once, we might not have any snow.

Now I ask you, what is the point of having an acre if you can’t use all of it?

This is the heat wave we were promised today. Oops Mr. Weatherman, missed that one didn’t you?

Pasha, the 12 1/2 year old man is not about to miss anything. He was ready to go out and explore the entire acre. Cold and snowy or not, he still wants to see and smell it all.

Crystal loves to run and play in the snow with the best of them, but even she had the good sense to stay out of the snow flurry.

Now you would think a big brave boy like Flocko would be the one blazing the trail for me, but nope, he followed my around while I searched out the trails in the snow.

And just for reference, here is the greyhound spinner one day later.

Tundra one – Humor zero

What I haven’t told many of you, but on Friday I had my girly surgery. So to say the very least, my first days at Greyhound Gardens, well, they suck. So this morning bright and early I am excited to go with the boys.

Wrong, wrong, wrong. That snowy, wintery pasture of parad-ice. Solid ice. Greyhounds, are dogs on stilts. We don’t do well on ice.

For the first time, I was actually envious of that low-to-the-ground, Basset Hound, Lucee.

As I move around parad-ice, I thought you might like to see a little of what we are looking at.

A half-inch of ice has actually accumulated on everything. So imagine what four inches of snow is like with an ice coating. As I take one step, I fall through and if I don’t fall through, I slide.

The maple tree.

The spinner.

The garden greyhound.

And for your promised weather report. Still below freezing. A very light freezing rain falling.

Here is my best advice to everyone:

Find a buddy and snuggle.

The Grinch Stole Oregon

One week ago, I was basking in 80° weather. I was sipping my umbrella drink through a straw, enjoying the warm Florida sand. I thought I had one-up on my kennel buddies, I, Cinderella, was on my way to paradise, to Greyhound Gardens.

Nobody prepared me for my first five days in parad-ice.

Remember the clock from Tuesday? Somewhere below 20°? Well, take a look at today’s weather. We’re having a heatwave, it is officially somewhere below 30°. I’ll report on the heatwave due tomorrow.

It’s insane here. We are still expected to make our daily five trips out to parad-ice. Unbelievable.

So I took a poll amongst the other greyhounds here. Four out of five hounds are pretty sure they can hold it until April. Of course, that is assuming that monsoon season doesn’t float us off to the Pacific.

Here is an example of the one outta five that isn’t afraid to trot off to the ice fields. This is Roxy. She isn’t running ’cause it’s fun. She just wants to get business taken care of and back into a nice warm cushion.

It’s gotta be a senior thing. Roxy is 12.

This is Maddie, she’ll be 13 next month.

And this is Pasha. He’ll be 13 in April. The cold doesn’t seem to phase these guys.

As for me. I can hold it until April. This Rover Reporter for the Greyhound Gazette will post the remaining of my reports from the comforts of my cushion.

Welcome to Iceland

Introducing Cinderella, another new rover reporter for Greyhound Gardens.

The life of a greyhound is greyt.
As a puppy, you get to play with your brothers and sisters for the first year of your life. You go to school, get a job and then you retire.
So, just like all of the other greyhounds I went to work but I didn’t take it as seriously as I should have. I really just wanted to play with my friends. Retirement was in my future. In November I got the official announcement, I was going to Greyhound Gardens.
Sounds like a paradise, doesn’t it? Visions of green lush pastures, waterfalls and sweet smelling flowers danced in my head. I pranced around the kennel bragging to everyone that I was going to Greyhound Gardens.
Boy oh boy was I ever sold a bill of goods. This is what I woke up to this morning.

“Time to go out” were almost my very first words. Yippee! I thought. The door opened and I dashed out in anticipation of racing around with my new friends. I stopped dead in my tracks, looked out and thought, “What the …”

What I saw was a white ice field, three frozen water bowls and a couple of dead-looking trees.

Ok, so it wasn’t lush green pastures, the sand was whiter and colder than normal. So off I went. Surely this is a joke.

Nope, not a joke.

This is Greyhound Gardens. I’m freezing my ass off.

Haven’t even been home for 12 hours yet and I want to go back to Florida. I promise to pull my own weight.

To all of my friends back at the kennel in Florida, a word of advice. Read the fine print before you sign your adoption contract.