So long, Benny

Saying goodbye to the world's laziest greyhound

This isn’t the post I’d planned to write this week, and one I’d hoped not to write for a few years yet, but here we are. We had to say goodbye to our beloved Bendico this week after he broke his leg and the animal hospital diagnosed him with cancer. Greyhounds are pretty healthy dogs, but have a tendency to develop osteosarcoma in middle age. After losing Otis to the same, we were always on the lookout for any hint of a limp or flicker of pain from Benny, but never detected anything, which I hope means that he was relatively unaffected until that last day.

Gil left for a business trip Sunday afternoon, and I took Benny out for one last wee 20 minutes later before my weekly pickleball session. He shook himself out the way all dogs do, yelped, and couldn’t put any weight on his back leg. Because greys have drama-queen tendencies, I didn’t immediately jump to the worst-case scenario, but after a few minutes, it was clear he needed to see an emergency vet, so I helped him into the back of my car for an evaluation at the closest one I could find. They weren’t able to rule out cancer, but couldn’t definitively diagnose it, so they referred Benny to a nearby animal hospital, where he spent the night well-drugged, awaiting further tests Monday morning.

The more targeted x-ray was conclusive, so after a quick call with Gil (still mostly holding it together on his trip), we decided it would be better to end Benny’s suffering right away rather than wait the few hours it would take for Gil to be there with us. Benny was always a mama’s boy anyway. We cuddled on the exam room floor for about an hour before the vet came in, and he passed peacefully, knowing fully how much we loved him. 

My first pic of Benny, before he’d figured out dog beds.

I’m awfully sad, but glad to know we did right by him. And as strange as it may seem, there wasn’t a day in Benny’s life when I didn’t imagine the end. Not in a morbid sense, but remaining aware that someday we wouldn’t be able to look over to see him cockroaching in the morning sunlight, or turning into a statue in order to walk on his favorite path through the woods rather than try another route, or demanding playtime with his newest favorite squeaky toy. So I’m glad I was able to savor every moment with him, to stay patient and appreciate him for his own unique (if sometimes frustrating) qualities.

He was truly the world’s laziest greyhound, which is saying something! He had a case of hookworm that took nearly a year to eradicate after we adopted him, so I think he got used to not exercising and was content to live out his life as a retiree on the sofa. A champion sleeper, he never let things like space, position or gravity deter him from his zzzzzs. No one adopts a greyhound to get in better shape, but Benny would’ve been a bad influence no matter what. His Instagram account is mostly filled with pics of him snoozing on his large chair, and later, sofa.

We adopted him three months after losing Ru (our first grey). I would’ve been ok with adopting much sooner, but Gil wasn’t ready, and as the winter months skated by, I missed having a dog in the house. With my birthday approaching in early March, I told Gil that my present had to be a dog — the breed, the particular dog, and the name could all be up to him. He selected Benny, and Benny went on to select me as his person. 

Ru was Gil’s dog — I was still working in the city and spending long hours away from home during the week, so they bonded easily. He was smart, cunning, and a ball of anxiety. Otis was a big, dumb lover who was happy to be with anyone, frankly. But Benny? He was mine. 

Ru (top) and Otis (below), indulging us for Hanukkah photos

Benny was the goofiest, gentlest, and sweetest of dogs. He loved all people and most dogs (the quiet ones, anyway), but hated a chipmunk. He was mostly indifferent to food, but was happy to gobble down anything we gave him from our plates. An easygoing guy until the clock approached noon, and it was time for his treat. He hated thunderstorms after our house was struck by lightning, but never minded fireworks. He loved to jump in the car, but was a ball of misery after riding around for five minutes. He never quite adjusted to stairs and went up and down with no grace whatsoever — just a tangle of limbs and determination. He could be a little possessive over a new toy, but rarely destroyed them, leaving us with a huge pile of them to re-home. He was a velcro dog during the day, but an independent sleeper at night. 

He was a good boy, and I’ll miss him forever. 

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Keeping the dog theme going…

Ok, it looks like there might be one dog lazier than Benny.

Benny and his buddy Reggie made their Reddit debut recently.

I’m not crying

Certainly not now!