"Properly practiced, knitting soothes the troubled spirit, and it doesn't hurt the untroubled spirit either." ~ Elizabeth Zimmerman


Happy Gotcha Day!

We are not doing WIP Wednesday today because it is a very very very special day. Today is Morgan's Gotcha Day! Eight years ago today I met, fell in love with, and brought Morgan home to join our family.

I wanted a dog. Sweet Hubby wanted a dog. We were toying with the idea of adopting a retired racing Greyhound at the time, but the requirements to do so from the local agency were extremely stringent, making it almost impossible to get one. (Adopting a human baby is easier.) We fussed with it for 2 years. I really wanted a Greyhound, but at the same time, I was bothered by the size. Our home really isn't suited for a large inside dog, which any dog I owned would be-inside, that is. That, and the fact I don't really want to own a dog that can knock me down without trying hard. However, the Greyhound personality is perfect for our family. What to do?

One day I was scanning the Nicklesworth, in the pets section, and ran across an ad for an Italian Greyhound. I called, made an appointment to see him. On April 30th, 2000 I met Morgan.

His former owner was a young gal with, in my opinion, a monster for a husband. She'd had Morgan for a year. The husband ordered her to get rid of the dog or he would. Morgan was seriously underweight and scared to death of everything and everyone (though I didn't know about the last item until we got home). All I know is, she was telling me about how he was a retired champion, how she had to get him out of the house TODAY, and that he was afraid of strangers when we laid eyes on each other the first time. Those big brown sweet eyes. Morgan actually stood up, wagged his tail, and moved toward me, much to the owners surprise. He took to me immediately. I think he knew. I think he understood I was there to rescue him.

Soon, money changed hands, we loaded him and his luggage (crate, food, electric blanket, large manila envelope full of show ribbons) into the car and home we went.

Sweet Hubby was expecting a Greyhound when he got home from work. I had neglected to mention it was a tiny one. Heh heh. I wish you could have seen the look on his face when he saw Morgan. "I thought we were getting a big dog?" (Why is it that men want big dogs?) But he fell in love with Morgan just as quickly as I did, except for one little thing. Morgan wouldn't get anywhere near him.

Over the first couple weeks we began to realize Morgan had problems. He started having seizures. The vet figured out he was suffering from severe malnutrition. He'd been starved. I had to give him vitamin supplements for awhile. I also changed his food (the one that had come with him was horrible). Eventually, the seizures stopped and he's never had one since.

I never saw such a scared dog. He was afraid of feet, deathly afraid of men, I couldn't raise my hand in his presence cos he'd run and hide, sticks were terrifying, loud noises made him panic, and don't even think about bringing an umbrella into the room. He even ate in fear, grabbing a small mouthful of food, then running off to hide while chewing it. He didn't act like a dog. He acted like an animal that had the dog beaten out of him.

A few weeks later, some folks came to visit me at my shop. They were Morgans former neighbors. They'd gone to a lot of trouble to track me down. They wanted to tell me about Morgans life.

Morgan is a retired champion show dog. The former owner had bought him a year before from his breeder. One year with her completely changed his personality. He was severely abused. The neighbors told me all about what they saw going on. The husband truly was a monster. Some of it was so horrible I started to cry. How could anyone treat such a sweet little dog that way? No wonder he had problems. I went home and told all to Sweet Hubby.

I did some research on helping abused dogs. We began the task of repairing the damage that had been done to him. Over the years we have given Morgan all the love we can, and that has brought the dog out. He adores his Daddy, loves people, will sneak stuff out of the garbage can, chase birds, bark, and acts all dog now. He even stays by his bowl to chew his food. He's so different from when we first brought him home. He is still afraid of loud noises, and I can't even own an umbrella, but sticks no longer bother him and he doesn't live in a cloud of fear. He's happy, healthy, loving, and loved.

We're so happy you are in our family.

Speaking of family, yesterday I sat down in my favorite chair, the hug, to eat a piece of cheese. See what I have to put up with?

Have a great day.


  1. Poor puppy - how lucky he was that you were there to rescue him! He's a cutie (and love that last picture!). Happy Gotcha Day!

  2. Beautiful dogs! So glad you adopted him! He looks like a happy furface now!

  3. After reading this I had to give Pappy a big hug. How could anyone hurt a sweet dog? And isn't is wonderful to watch them come out of their pain and return to health and normal dog behavior?

    Give Morgan a hug from me. And Glory, Sunny, and especially Pappy.