Lindsay

Lindsay aka Lindsay Party aka Party Girl

Lindsay Party aka Party Girl

Lindsay is the one who started us onto the path of Greyhound ownership.  She was our First...  She was the original Dyno-Mutt....  She was and still is our inspiration.

Lindsay was a retired racing greyhound that we adopted from Recycled Racers in Denver, Colorado.  She was a brindle and the color of buttermilk with burnt toast stripes.  A beauty, she was born on St. Patrick's Day in 1991, a great-granddaughter of the incredible Downing, who is in the NGA Hall of Fame.  Her sire was the noted race dog, Killer Diller, whose littermates include: Uncle Albert, Aggie Mae, and Paperback Rider.  They were all top winning dogs.  Lindsay ran on the Southern Colorado circuit.  All the tracks where she ran have been closed - Pueblo and Colorado Springs.  She raced for the Robert Feathers kennel and she ran, placing consistently in the money, until her retirement in 1995, which is when we got her.

Lindsay was a dog that needed a job.  She wasn't happy as a retiree and she'd beat up on the other dogs.  So, we gave her a job, lure coursing.  Lindsay carried on the tradition of being a great running dog in lure coursing.  And, in short order, she achieved her field championships in both American Kennel Club (AKC) & American Sighthound Field Asso. (ASFA) events.  One of the funniest things I ever saw that involved Lindsay was when the judge decided to sit directly behind her at the start of her first Junior Courser (JC) run.  I no longer remember his name.

The judge decided to judge the JC runs by plopping a lawn chair directly behind the dogs at the start. When Lindsay came to the line, several people advised him, including me, that he really didn't want to sit there behind a greyhound.  But, he told us in no uncertain terms, "I know what I'm doing."  OK....

Lindsay at the 1997 ASFA I.I. in Pescadero, CA

When the hunt-master cried "Tally Ho!", as the slip lead fell away from her neck, Lindsay dug in with those powerful hind legs and sprinted off the line.  With that very powerful first thrust of the hind legs, she dug in and kicked up a rooster tail of rocks, dirt, cactus....  all of which flew back into the judge's face.  All I could hear at the line were thuds followed by, "Ow!  Ouch!  Damn!"  I still laugh and smirk.  Somehow, I think the judge learned something new that day - never sit behind a greyhound at the start.

Lindsay loved to run.  She loved to compete. We took her to a lure course held in Phoenix at the Estrella Mountain Park by the Desert Fun Bunch.  The day was December 7th.... Pearl Harbor Day.  

Lindsay won the Open Stakes and got to run for Best of Breed with a large, brindle dog named Cabo.  In the Best of Breed runoff against Cabo, Lindsay broke a metatarsal bone in her hind leg.  She never stopped running.  She hiked her leg up and finished the run, winning BOB.  We didn't even realize that there was a problem.  That night, she ate her dinner, we walked her and she never gimped.  At least, not until the next morning, which is when she developed a bit of a hitch in her git-along.  We pulled her from the competition and drove home to Albuquerque.  Two days later, she had surgery to fix the break.  The vet said she had to be kept quiet for at least 6 weeks, to allow the bone to properly knit. So, even tho' it wasn't allowed, I snuck her into my office at work for the next 4 weeks and she slept the day under my desk.  My co-workers absolutely loved her and she got a bit pudgy while working there.

Lindsay Flying in Estrella Mtn Park

After Pop died in 1999, my mom came to live with Rob & I.  On the saddest weekend in my life, November 6-8, 2003, we lost Lindsay the evening of Nov 6 and my mom the night of Nov 7.  We like to think that Lindsay died before mom so she could show her the way to heaven.  Mom died late the night of Nov 7th.  On Nov 8th, there was a local lure course and I went, not to run dogs, but to be among friends in my time of sorrow. I needed to be around people and their dogs.  I needed to be among the living.  It had been a rough, preceding 10 days during my mom's short, but deadly, illness.  During the lunch break, I looked up and I swear I saw Lindsay running around the far corner and down the backstretch.  As she stretched out, she disappeared from view.   I think she was telling me that she's OK and that she helped mom across the Rainbow Bridge.

In truth, a year or two later, Lindsay came to me in a dream.  In it, she was running in front of a big, black dog.  Soon, as they went around the near turn, the two of them ran across a bridge and disappeared into the mists.  The name "Cal" was stuck in my mind and the next day, I called an acquaintance of mine in Tulsa.  I asked her, "Teddi...  do you know a big, black dog named "Cal"?  If so, I think he just died."  Teddi lost it and broke down in tears.  Little did I know that a short time prior to this, she had adopted a retired stud dogs, Iruska Excalibur, a big black dog that she called "Cal".  He had died the day of my dream.  I told her of the dream and she was comforted.

Lindsay had found herself a job even after crossing over.  Her job is to escort people and dogs across the Rainbow Bridge, into heaven's fields.  That's our Party Girl.