dog rescue Archives - Yvonne’s Artwork

“It’s Time.” Goodnight Daisy

“It’s Time” Goodnight Daisy. Daisy was my introduction to the wonderful world of rescued greyhounds. I adopted her through GAP, Perth, when she was just a little over 3 years old, she was tiny, weighing just 19kg.Her story to this point had its ups and downs, she had raced 4 times and didn’t place as she didn’t like getting bumped, so she ran wide. Daisy went into the GAP rehoming program, and was part of the Greyhound Prison Rehabilitation program, where inmates train and help the greyhounds get ready for adoption. Daisy was adopted by a couple, but unfortunately, was not treated well. This sweet little Greyhound was very emaciated, very withdrawn and covered in fleas, they dumped her back with GAP saying they “Couldn’t be doing with her.”Daisy went on to a couple of foster homes, but was reactive to cats, rabbits, chickens and birds. I had just lost Max, a Border Collie cross, and was looking for a companion for our Labrador Cross, Harvey. I took Daisy as a foster. This poor little girl was so tiny, I nicknamed her my “little bird,” as she felt so fragile. She was beautiful but had the worst breath imaginable. Her teeth were so rotten, her gums terribly infected and ulcerated, and she must have been in terrible pain when eating. I asked GAP, “What do we do about her teeth?” I was told “Nothing until she’s adopted! “I was horrified, how long had this sweet girl been in such discomfort? This was so cruel! I adopted her there and then, and took her straight to the vet. She took 6 weeks of treatment, steroids and antibiotics, before they could do any dental work, and slowly, over the years, her teeth were all removed, bar 1. If I had known then what I knew after all her teeth were out, that she could eat really well, I’d have done it sooner. As a direct result of her terrible dental care in early life, Daisy developed severe cardiac problems. Daisy was a happy girl, very easygoing, dainty and quiet. I was lucky enough to be in her life for 11 and a half years. Daisy and Otis, my other Greyhound, were seen at greyhound adoption meetings, and were a brilliant ambassador for the breed. I loved their elegance, the way the ran for fun, their crazy zoomies around the garden, and hours of couch surfing. Daisy became my muse. Several paintings of her graced my walls, she was dainty, sleek, a stunning subject. Through Daisy I became involved with several Greyhound and dog rescues, donating artwork for Auctions. My commissioned art work became popular within the greyhound, and Sighthound groups. I didn’t realise when I fell in love with Greyhounds that I had joined a cult. Daisy died at 14 years 4 months. Longer than ever expected considering her severe heart failure. She surprised us and out lived Otis by 10 months. Once again my heart was broken, but we did give her the BEST life we could, and she repaid us tenfold. I painted “It’s Time” before she died, when she was quite ill and it was obvious time was no longer on our side. I knew that once Daisy died I wouldn’t be able to paint her. I chose to paint her this final time, depicting the moment she leaves for the Rainbow Bridge. Her face alert and intrigued, her body just starting to disappear into the light. And just like that….She has gone….. Daisy, my “Little bird,” run swift and free sweetheart, you were so beautiful. We walked some happy and amazing miles together. Between Hello and Goodbye there was so much love.

Molly’s Story

This is the story of how were adopted by a beautiful white Boxer dog, and how she loved life and everyone in it. Years ago, we were having dinner with a family that friends knew, who lived in a big posh house with flashy, very expensive possessions, which they liked to brag about, and who owned a white boxer puppy, her name was Sassy. We found out later that she was a Christmas gift for their very spoilt daughter, who had got bored when she was no longer a cute little toy. There was no indication that a dog even lived in this house, no dog bed, bowl, toys, nothing, so I asked the host where this dog was, as I had never seen a white boxer before. She led me outside to the garden and by the shed was a 9 month old dog, certainly not white, more brown and filthy, on a 1 meter chain so tight it was starting to embed into her neck, and sitting in the doorway of the shed, she had obviously been there for a long time as the 1m space around the doorway was absolutely disgusting, faeces everywhere, old urine stains and stench, and a half empty filthy bucket of water. Her story was that “she’s a digger” and to be taught a lesson was tied up in disgrace! No! she was a 9-month-old puppy who was being neglected and abused. She was absolutely delighted to see someone …anyone… and jumped up as far as her chain would allow, her tail wagging furiously, covering me in old faeces and urine, my heart broke. I went inside so angry with how this dog was being treated, and said that we were leaving. On the way home I cried and told Jeff, my late husband, about this poor dog. Early the next day we had a phone call from our friends, this family were going to have Sassy put to sleep unless someone took her. Were they honestly hoping someone would just knock on the door and see if they had a dog they didn’t want? We had just lost Spike our 4-year-old Rottie to Meningitis a couple of weeks before, so were still getting over that loss when this request came in. Our friend asked if we could take her and at least find her a good home. Jeff hadn’t seen her so asked what she was like. I said she has a face only a mother could love but there was something beautiful about her, a very sweet puppy who obviously didn’t cost enough for this family to feel she was worthy. He went to collect her. As soon as Jeff saw her, he was so angry he couldn’t speak, he just picked up the dog and carried her gently, to our van. As he left the family tried to say goodbye, they were told in no uncertain terms that they were lucky to not be reported to the RSPCA. It took 3 baths to get her clean. And a few more weeks for the smell to leave the van. We gave her a new life and a new name, Molly, AKA Moo Moos She was adorable, playful and very, very loving, she just loved being in our company. She loved to play, chased balls and sticks, ran like the wind and loved everyone. Molly lived until she was 13 and died of splenetic cancer. She was buried in our garden in Harvey under a blanket of flowers. She is missed and boy, was she loved. Between hello and goodbye there was so much love.

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“It’s Time.” Goodnight Daisy

Molly’s Story

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