Showing posts with label Irish Wolfhounds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Irish Wolfhounds. Show all posts

Thursday, May 19, 2016

Another Irish Wolfhound for Our Family



Yay!  Another Irish Wolfhound!  Meet Loki a two year old male from Boise, ID.  His owner didn't have time for him, so now he's a member of our family.  He's a SWEETIE.

I had wanted another puppy from Laloba Ranch because Riagan just turned six years old--hasn't had a single health issue--has a grandfather, Alfie, who lived to be almost 12 years old--and I don't want Riagan to ever be alone if Maggie were to pass away (Maggie is 10). (You can see Riagan's pedigree here.)  But Loki's path crossed our path, and even though he's not a Laloba Hound, we hit it off with him right away.  Our hearts just went right out to him, as if he was a long lost member of our pack.



There is one little issue--he hasn't been around cats, and we have four.  Every time he sees the kittens, in their enclosed, safe room, he goes nuts.

So far we've let them see each other through the windows of the cat room, allowed the cats to roam the house when Loki wasn't there, so they could smell him, and last night we let them all into the same room while we held Loki back on his leash.

The cats were somewhat fearless--to a fault, but Loki never got his mouth on them.  We plan to do the same thing every night until Loki stops reacting to them.  Then, we'll let him go, but leave his leash on, in case we need to grab it.

Wish us luck!  Having Wolfhounds is a great honor and privilege, but it's not without a few, minor complications.  They are big and powerful, and though they wouldn't want to purposely hurt another animal, they may do it accidentally in play.









Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Old Irish Wolfhound Newspaper Article



This is an article that was sent to my parents back in the '70's. Funny, isn't it?

Life with a sighthound is unique. Whereas, most dogs rely primarily on their ears and are always hearing things far off, the sighthound relies primarily on her eyes.

This morning, I sat in the grass and watched what Riagan watched. First a flock of birds in the sky. Then, her head turned and trekked a hawk who glided high and quiet above us. I'd never have noticed him myself, but she locked in a steady gaze.

What did she see that I didn't? Could she make out the pattern on his feathers, the look in his eye? I only saw his shape.

What does the world look like through the eyes of a sighthound?