It was a warm summer day in 1982, much like the other days that year. As I walked my route, reading electric meters in a neighborhood that had seen better warm days, I saw something white move amongst the trash and broken furniture tossed about the backyard of a vacant house. I could not believe what my optical nerve was sending to my brain! A tiny white deer with the biggest eyes and a broken leg was staring at me from the pile of someone's broken life.

ARTIE DECO 1982

He was a gentle creature and seemed happy to see me. I had never seen such a dog before. What was he? I picked him up and examined the tiny, boney body. He had a metal pin sticking up out of the top of his hip. His atrophied rear leg was stiff and held like a bird wing. The pin exited through an ulcerated hole at the top of his hip bone. I held him and cried.

Then I called the police.

A woman officer showed up and she also was taken aback at the sight of this tiny, skinny bag of bones. She called animal control (she legally was obligated to do so) and they responded quickly...taking the creature to the pound.

I notified animal control that I wanted to adopt what I learned was a young Whippet boy. They said he was so deteriorated that he was going to have to be put to sleep. They also said they did not adopt out sick dogs. I told them I had adopted plenty of healthy dogs and that I wanted this little guy. They said no, he would not live much longer due to his condition.

Then I hired an attorney.

She put a "stop death warrant" on the dog.

The next phone call I got was from the pound.

"Ok, Ok...you can have him!"

Through the power company records, I was able to find the deadbeat that had abandoned the Whippet. She said they left water for him, so he would be all right. She told me he had been injured in a car accident and broken his leg and the name of the vet who treated the Whippet.

Then I told the woman exactly what I thought of her and hung up.

In order to prosecute the woman for animal neglect and abandonment, the Whippet would have to be left for an additional three days in the rubble as proof. No one wanted to put this little guy through one more day...and he probably would not have survived.

The treating vet removed the pin and verified the dog had been in a car accident with the woman and had broken his leg - six months ago. They never brought him back to have the pin removed and never paid the vet for any of the expenses. The diagnosis was he would never use that leg again.

Then I brought the skinny boy home.

I named him Artie Deco. He had massages and good food and a warm blanket.
He was the sweetest, most loving dog I had ever met.

He cuddled with Mollie, my big greyhound/lab mix.

Now, he was loved.

We would go for small walks around the neighborhood. Teen-aged girls would stop and pet him and cry after learning his story. We got plenty of dirty looks from people driving by...I can just imagine what they thought. not knowing the story of Artie Deco.

Now, he was a happy boy.

Artie did use the injured leg and would run in fields near the house.
He was very fast ! He lived five more years and finally succumbed to
autoimmune disease on 8/8/88..

It was so very hard to let my sweet boy go.

Numerous whippet rescues have crossed
my threshold on their way to new homes
and over the last 26 years,
eleven whippets have stolen my heart
and shared my home since Artie Deco,
along with numerous whippet rescue fosters.

They are ALL in his honor......

the beginning...

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