Celaya

I've been thinking about our greyhound a lot today. I'm not exactly sure why. I've been thinking about how she demanded attention, in that good way only dogs can do. I've been thinking about how fast she was; even in her old age of 12 she could out-sprint me without thinking twice. And how utterly sweet she was. She always got up to greet you, her tail doing helicopter-circles as she forced her forehead into your hand.

I was surfing the Internet when I came to an article on greyhounds. There they listed a database for registered greyhounds. On a whim, I typed in Celaya's racing name ("Celayo"), and lo and behold, we have her pedigree back 30 generations. I was somewhat shocked; there are details on this site we never knew about our racer, such as the exact date of birth, or that she never really raced.

As Celaya got older, she didn't ran as much as she used to. I remember that one day in June of 2006, Alesha and I sneaked her into the ice skating rink of the school across the street from us. Since there was no way to get out, we let her off of her leash. It was a beautiful sight, watching an old dog spring back to life as Alesha and I called her from one end of the rink to the other and back again. After about 15 minutes, she was tuckered out, so we hoisted her over the gate to head home. It would be the last time Celaya would get to run.

Celaya was having problems walking, and all of it came to a head around the time of our wedding. She had a tumor, somewhere in her nervous system, that made it impossible for her to walk. Celaya passed away on July 24, 2006, the Monday after Alesha and I returned from our honeymoon. I went back through my archives and realized I had never mentioned her passing.

So here's to you, Celaya. You made me into a greyhound fanatic. My wife and I cemented our relationship with you underfoot. I still tear up a little when I think about you. You, of all dogs, would be satisfied hearing that.