Good dog!

Always eager to please, our rescue greyhound, Jordie, loved to hear me say, "Good dog!" She would lean on my leg and look up with those deep brown eyes seeming to thank me again for saving her from her misery of the racetrack.nWe adopted Jordie, not her real name which was Playful Clown (tell me you wouldn't change her name too), when she was three years old and rescued after years on the race curcuit in Miami. Coming to California was a bit chilly for her. Greyhounds are short hair dogs so the cooler climate took some getting used to. But she adapted quickly and we were blessed with a great dog.nThirteen years later, with no warning or prior health issues,Jordie began convulsing. We rushed her to the vet where the decision was made to sign our names to her death warrant. Broken and sobbing, we walked to the back of the animal clinic where the staff stood by respectfully as we said our good-byes. My husband helped me as I stumbled out of the clinic and into a pool of tears in our car.nToo crushed to remain in our dog-less home, we took a few days to get away and grieve. Checking our mail, upon our return, I found a sympathy card from the animal clinic. My husband asked me to read it to him. It read: "Dear Mr. Moseley, we are so sorry about Jordie's passing. She was one of our favorite patients and we will miss her. We could see how much she meant to you and your..." I couldn't believe my eyes when I read the last line. It said..."we could see how much she meant to you and your DAUGHTER!" They thought I was his daughter, not his wife! Wow! All I can say is that was one more gift from Jordie. Good dog!n