Sweet Daydream, or Myka as we named her, came to fill a hole in our hearts created when our beloved Mickey passed away. We weren’t planning to bring another greyhound into our lives after the trauma of loosing Mickey, but Cy, our poor special needs greyhound boy simply couldn’t function without another greyhound in our home. We met Sweety, as she was called back then, shortly after realizing that Cy needed a greyhound companion to function, and she seemed like a perfect fit. Boy were we right.
Myka burst into our lives, our home, and our hearts, like she had always been there. She was a blue, a rare and coveted grey colored greyhound, beautiful, sleek, and shiny. Anyone experienced with greyhounds will tell you that blue’s dance to their own drummer, and I can assure you that this applied to Myka completely. She was one of a kind.
Myka had flunked out of the greyhound racing industry. While she had the physical ability, the pedigree, and the stamina to be a champion racer, her attention span was fleeting, and she was “petted out” from racing school. Her journey from the Deep South racing tracks of Florida to our home was a rocky one. She had been adopted out and quickly returned to the adoption group once or twice, and then bounced around a few temporary foster homes. We had heard various stories on why she was returned or “bounced” back to the group, but it didn’t really matter. To us, she was perfect. She fit right in and helped us all, especially Cy, heal from the loss of Mickey.
Myka was special. She was different. She had this little crooked nose that she would bury into the crook of your arm or under your leg when she wanted something. She was vocal, a real talker. She would whine and cry and bury her nose into you, and it was up to you to figure out what she wanted. It could be to go outside, it could be a treat, she might want a certain spot on the furniture, usually the one you were currently occupying, or she might want to go to bed. Myka believed it was her birth right to sleep in our bed, and she slept with us every night. Most often she slept directly between us, spread out from head to toe, or she curled up on top of our legs trapping us painfully in place for the night. Myka also had sleep aggression, a condition in some greyhounds left over from sleeping alone in their kennel days. If you moved during the night and happened to disturb her, she would wake up barking and snarling until she remembered where she was. Some greyhounds grow out of it, but Myka never did. This made for some interesting nights at times, but we understood and we lived with it.
Myka was gorgeous, a playful and mischievous princess. She had a huge collection of stuffed animals or “babies” that she would playfully toss around the house. Every morning on her first potty break she would excitedly grab one of her babies and charge to the door to stand patiently with it in her mouth while we caught up to her, only to discard it at the bottom of the steps and chase after her brother Loki in the yard. When she wanted something, she would stare intently at you then impatiently sit, something most greyhounds can’t, or won’t, usually do.
About a year ago, we noticed a change in Myka. She had a glazed look in her eyes, she had slowed down considerably, and she no longer wanted to walk as far as she used to. She started skipping breakfast from time to time, which was definitely not like her, and we knew something was wrong. We took her to the vet and got the devastating diagnosis of advanced kidney failure. Knowing that her time with us was coming to an end, we made the decision to modify her diet to keep her interested in food, and kept her as comfortable as we could for as long as we could. We promised her that we would not let her suffer, and once her quality of life declined we would let her go. Sadly, that time has come.
Myka started her life somewhat unwanted, not suited for the racing industry and had a hard time finding the right forever home, but she fit into ours perfectly. She fit right into our home, and right into our hearts. She helped us move on from a very difficult time, and we could never do enough to repay her.
Run free sweet girl, we will love you and remember you always. If we could heal you, you would live forever. You leave us with a huge piece of our hearts, the only thing we could give to end your pain.
3/27/09 - 10/10/20
