Woody was our first foster and as such, our first failure at fostering. Hurricane Andrew blew through the track at Ebro in Florida and nearly wiped out the track. Woody and 99 other Greyhounds were left homeless. GPA-Indiana, with the assistance of the S.P.C.A. of New York had the 100 dogs hauled out of Ebro and 80 of them headed North. Fifteen of these dogs came to us in Harvey's Lake at Rainbow's End Greyhound Adoption.
I had spoken with Ann Whitney, our director about fostering and she talked about how most people end up keeping the first dog they foster. I suspected we'd be no different.
I had my eye on a huge white and brindle male named "Dave" who was already neutered and had a personality and a half. But it was not to be because Dave had already been spoken for. Someone was adopting him, so I started looking for another dog to foster and possibly adopt. (Ann calls this phenomena "Permanent fostering.")
And then I saw him! He wasn't just a red fawn. He was downright orange! And his ears stood straight up towards the clouds. He was at full attention and he was staring at me!
One of the other volunteers, Louise leaned over and whispered to me, "How about that one Jeanne! He looks like he wants you to take him home!" How could I argue with that?
So "Woody" came home with me. He calmly rode for the full 45 minutes home on the seat behind me and once when a car pulled right out in front of me, I had to brake so hard, I knocked hm right onto the floor! He took it all in stride. He kind of got up, brushed himself off and climbed back onto the seat. He just tossed me a look as if to say, "I hope you don't drive like that ALL the time!"
Once home, I introduced Woody to the rest of the gang, Sy and Geno, my two Greyhound boys and Chelsea, Talon and China, the Dobie girls and Annie and Polly, the mixed breed girls. They all seemed to like him except Talon, but she was a major bitch most of the time, so I wasn't surprised and Woody had the attitude, "So Okay! I won't bother you!"
Harry and I discussed the possibility of adopting him. Harry's idea was, "Well, you KNOW we're probably going to fall in love with him and we won't be able to give him up!"
I agreed, but we thought we'd give it a try anyway. Two das later, I arrived home from work to find Harry, cooking eggs and Woody standing next to the stove watching him.
Before I could say anything, he said, "Ann called. She said she has a home for Woody if we don't want to keep him."
I asked, "What did you tell her?"
"I told her that we had discussed it and were thinking about it. She told me, "That's NOT the answer I need to hear. If you are, OK. If not I need to know so I can get this couple another dog."
Then Harry turned to me and smiling, said, "So i told her we're keeping him!"
And that's how our Woody-Bear came to be a Hound of Dragonflyte.
Sadly, our Woody-Bear made his final journey on October 21, 2002 after a short but serious bout with bladder cancer. He was a wonderfully sweet boy with an even temper and the ability to bring a smile to the face of everyone he met. 
