Okay, so on with the introductions. And pictures (you can click on these small ones to see larger versions). I'm Kate. My husband John and I live in a big old house on about 8 mostly wooded (and mostly vertical!) acres in Cross Lanes WV. We call it... what else? Hound Mountain. We share the upper two levels of the house with our 12 Greyhounds. Half of the basement is taken up by the Almost Heaven Greyhound Adoption kennel where 20 more Greyhounds live when we're full, which we usually are. Hound Mountain (the business) takes up another room in the basement as well as a room and a half upstairs. So between HM and AHGA, about a third of our house has gone to the dogs. Literally! And in the rest of it you'll find Greyhounds draped everywhere. Controlled chaos is generally the order of the day, and it's definitely not for the faint of heart, non-dog person. But we love it, and apparently so do a lot of our friends. House guests are a regular occurrence here.

Hound Mountain - the business - started in the fall of 1997 when we were just fostering and placing one or two dogs at a time. At the time we were donating a percentage of our profit to various Greyhound adoption groups, but it's main purpose was to supplement our own income after John retired. When we moved to Cross Lanes in 1999 we built the kennel and started AHGA, and we got so busy that by 2001 we sort of let the business fade away for a while. But our volunteer base is tiny. The daily work of taking care of the kennel - four turnouts a day (right), feeding, cleaning, scooping poop, shuttling dogs to the vet and to adopters, etc. and arranging adoptions didn't leave much time or energy for fund-raising events. So Hound Mountain was resurrected in November of 2002 with 100% of profits going to support AHGA. The group survives largely on donations, HM sales, and Mike's purse checks. The rest mostly comes out of members' pockets.

The kennel started out with crate space for five hounds (left), taking up 1/4 of our basement. But the dogs kept coming and more crates were added. We knocked out a wall (right), sold the pool table, bought, borrowed and begged wire crates, and spread out more, eventually reaching our present capacity of 20, several more than are shown in these pictures, but we haven't taken any new ones for a while. The wire crates are gradually being replaced by "six-pack" crates donated by local breeders and kennels at Tri-State. One set is already in use and two more are about to be cleaned, painted and installed. They really make life a lot easier for us because they can be rolled out from the walls for cleaning. And they're safer and more secure for the dogs. The kennel has the same heating and AC as the rest of the house, hot and cold running water, a phone, a refrigerator and a microwave. And music! The "kids" have to have their tunes, so a radio is always on. John's office is in the next room, where there's a futon in case there's a sick dog and someone needs to spend the night nearby. If there was just a bathroom somebody could live in the kennel full time. ;-)

It's not an exaggeration to say we live and breathe Greyhounds 24/7. What started this magnificent obsession? A beautiful, noble and very wise black hound named CJ (Guard My Angel - left). To us he was very possibly the most perfect dog that ever lived. He was the first Greyhound I ever saw in the flesh, and we both loved him from the first minute. Within 24 hours of bringing him home we were already talking about getting another Greyhound, and Blarney (Craigie Alan - right) joined the family five weeks later. Blarn is a big white guy with black brindle patches and eyes that draw you deep into his gentle soul. With Blarney's arrival we thought our family was complete and soon became interested in helping to find homes for other hounds. We brought Cassidy (Ion Mrs Chips - left) home to foster and knew within days that she was never going to leave. She's a blue fawn scamp who keeps things lively around here. Oddly enough, I was the one who pleaded to keep her, but she immediately became a confirmed Daddy's Girl. And again we thought we had enough Greyhounds.

A trip to visit a breeding farm in Kansas changed that silly notion, though. Gizzy (Lizabon - right) had retired from the breeding business and needed a family of her own. So of course I fell in love with her and brought her back to WV. In all her tiny white and red glory she was queen of the house for the rest of her life. Another Daddy's Girl, she could handle John with perfect finesse. What Gizzy wanted, Gizzy got!

Our involvement with adoption brought us into contact with CJ's breeders who asked us to help place some dogs for them. On a trip to pick up a dog from them we were taken to the track kennel to meet all of CJ's littermates, including his gorgeous black brother LB (Trackside Angel - left). My heart almost stopped! Something clicked and I wanted that dog so badly I could almost taste it. But he was still racing. A few months later, though, he came home with us and became my heart hound. Nearly identical to CJ in looks, his personality was completely different. CJ was quiet and dignified. LB is a complete nut! By the way, LB stands for Lover Boy, the name he was given as a puppy. It fits. He loves everybody and just naturally expects them to love him. The picture at left isn't very good, but it was taken the day I first met my boy at the track, so it means a lot to me. How could anybody not fall in love with that silly grin?

A few fosters came and went and then came Tony (Greg's Redwing - right). I had a home lined up for him, but John wouldn't let him go because Tony would howl pitifully whenever John was out of his sight. So the big red brindle galoot became a permanent member of the family. It took a full year for him to come out of his shell, but when he did he turned out to be extraordinarily intelligent and 100% silly. Tony was followed by MONSTER (Native Nate - left, on top of LB and Blarney), a 17 month old fawn puppy who had washed out of training. Another foster who never left, MONSTER got his name by always being the object of the words "You little MONSTER!" when he was in trouble. It's always capitalized when it's written because it was always yelled. <G> MON is 6 1/2 years old now, but he still hasn't grown up. He's our Peter Pan pup. Still in trouble on a daily basis. The picture at left is typical. LB and Blarney, like most of the rest of the dogs, tolerate things from MONSTER that they'd never take from anybody else.

Fawn brindle Willie (Brazocallicowill - right) followed MON into the family. Another foster that John wouldn't let go. Willie was very quiet and unassuming most of the time. But once a day he would spend about five minutes going completely bananas flinging a stuffy around the house and pouncing on it. The only other time Willie ever got excited was when he got to go somewhere. Anywhere. He didn't care as long as he got to go. He also got mildly excited when he was stealing somebody's Coke or Dr. Pepper!

Hoo boy! By that point we had 8 Greyhounds. It was getting a little bit crowded in our tiny  house, though nobody really seemed to mind. Then we moved into our present house, which is much larger. You DO see what's coming, don't you? Almost immediately we were joined by Elvis (RK's Fireblue - left), a beautiful blue boy who had been unhappy in his first adoptive home. He was an only dog whose humans had heavy work schedules, so he spent a lot of time alone. This is a dog who really craves attention. They loved him dearly, but thought (correctly) that he would be happier with us because we had other dogs and we were home with them nearly all the time. Elvis will be 11 soon and has been thoroughly enjoying life with his big family for over 3 years now.

Meanwhile, CJ and LB's sister Sweety had her first litter of puppies (right) in May of 1999. I begged and pleaded for a black male puppy before they were even born. I didn't care if he could run or not, I just wanted a puppy like either of his wonderful uncles. When the puppies came, there were two black males. For three months I agonized over which pup I wanted. One was quiet like CJ and the other was an in-your-face party pup like LB. When tattoo time came I ended up with partial ownership in each of them with the agreement that when they retired they became all mine. They became Mike (CJ's Angel Buns, named for his uncle, of course) and Gabe (Gotta B An Angel - left in my lap). Their litter, like their mother's litter, all had Angel in their names. We had a ball playing with them as they grew. When they were a year old they went off to school to learn their trade, then came back to begin their careers at Tri-State. There's something very special about knowing a Greyhound from birth and watching him develop. I have a special kind of bond with them because I've known them since birth. I adore all our other dogs, and LB is my heart. But with all of them there is that piece of them that I never knew, the missing part that was somebody else's. With Gabe and Mike, there are no mysteries. They've been my babies from day one.

Slinky (Iruska Aquarius - right) joined the family next. She was sent by a dear friend in Florida who just thought we should have her. I'm glad she did! She's a funny red brindle girl who "cheeses". That means pulling up her upper lip to give a silly, toothy grin. When she's not being silly, Slinky has the sweetest face I've ever seen.

Then came AmberLiz (Outlaw Amber - left). Yet another foster who never left. She's a gorgeous little black brindle thing with lots of white, and I steeled myself against keeping her even though I thought she was adorable. John tried to con me into saying yes, but I held firm. But about a month after she got here, our precious old Gizzy died at almost 14 years of kidney failure. I was heartbroken, but John was really devastated. And I caved. We added Liz to the end of Amber's name in honor of Gizzy, and made her permanent. Now we call her Lizzy (or Lizard Lips <G>) most of the time. And what a rascal she is! She knows she's cute and she uses it shamelessly. Another Daddy's Girl, of course. Oh, does she know how to work John!

The next dog to join the family was sent to us from Florida for placement. She was a retired brood bitch, a big 9 year old black brindle gal with tons of personality. We took her with us to the Great Lakes Greyhound Gathering in Michigan. We have many friends who attend that event that are special fans of senior dogs, so we thought she might find a family there. As it turned out, Hoe (Back Hoe - right) did so well on the trip with our dogs that when we came home we never put her back in the kennel. We had missed that special something that only old mama dogs have, so Hoe became part of the family. And she decided, wonder of wonders, to be a Mama's Girl! She's our oldest dog, having just turned 11, and our most active. She thinks she's 2! She gives new meaning to the word "silly", and she is glued to my side every minute of the day.

Within a week or two of bringing Hoe into the family, we found out that Tipper (Tippy - left) needed a home. Tip was the son of our old Gizzy, and practically a clone of his mother. He had been adopted for years, but family complications caused him to need a new home. I'd known and loved Tip for years, so there was no question but that he would come to live with us. He's so much like Giz that it's almost like having her back with us. But he's also very much his own man, and a gentleman through and through. We loved him first because he was Gizzy's boy, but now we love him for himself.

While we were waiting for Tip to arrive, Gabe (right, with family friend Haley Kendrick) broke his leg at the track and had to retire. The kennel had his leg repaired and kept him there at the track until his cast was off. We all thought it would be too hard for him to come home with the cast on his leg, having to deal with our rowdy herd and many stairs in the house. But in a few weeks, right after Tip arrived, Gabe came home, too. We thought we had done so well, not adding any new dogs to the herd for almost a year, then Hoe, Tip and Gabe all came home within about two months. ACK! We had 13 house hounds! It sounds insane, but it worked. They all got along well and things ran smoothly for almost a year. Gabe never even had an adjustment period. Maybe because he had known John and me from birth he felt comfortable right away. It still boggles my mind to look at that long elegant black boy stretched out from end to end of the couch and remember the tiny little ball of fuzz he was just a few years ago. I had looked forward to his coming home ever since he was born, and the reality has been all I imagined and more.

Then last June (2002), our precious Willie got cancer on his spinal cord and died right after the surgery to remove the tumor. Cancer takes so many Greyhounds and we had been very lucky to have had a very large and healthy herd for years. But the odds started catching up with us. Tipper has had several hemangiosarcoma skin tumors removed, but his cancer was (and still is) in remission. Then in November our beloved "firstborn" CJ was diagnosed with chondrosarcoma in his pelvic bone and he died the day after Thanksgiving. Less than a month later, his brother LB had a biopsy done and on New Year's Eve the results came back. Osteosarcoma. The odds were catching up with us with a vengeance! Four cancer diagnoses in 13 months, and two losses in 6 months. 2002 wasn't a good year for our family. 8 years old isn't a good age for our kids, either. All four were 8 at the time of their diagnoses. Willie and CJ didn't live to see another birthday. But Tipper will be celebrating his 10th next month and we have high hopes that LB will see more birthdays, too.

On January 9, 2003, LB's left front leg was removed, and after a few weeks to let him heal from the surgery he was started on the "Navy Protocol", an experimental anti-angiogenic therapy. It's a long shot, but his chances of survival seemed a lot better than with traditional chemotherapy. So far he's doing great! A week after the surgery he was getting around well and now he zooms all over the place like he always did with a grin on his face and his tail whirling. He's tolerating the drug therapy well with no apparent side effects. And no sign of metastasis has shown up yet in spite of the fact that the vets think the cancer was probably there for at least three months before it was diagnosed. The Navy Protocol has, in some cases, made tumors completely disappear. In LB's case we took the tumor away with amputation, so hopefully all his therapy needs to do is prevent any metastasis. Our part in the research is to send monthly reports on him to The Angiogenesis Foundation. Of course we're praying that he'll beat this thing and live to a healthy old age, giving hope to others whose dogs are diagnosed with cancer. But even if he doesn't beat it, he will have contributed to the research that will someday save many dogs (and humans) from cancer. A part of him will live in each cancer survivor.

Well, as it happened, there was a tiny black boy downstairs in the adoption kennel. His mother was My Sweet Angel, sister of CJ and LB, and Gabe and Mike's mother. He was the runt of his litter and I have fond memories of carrying him around and cuddling him when his littermates, twice his size, were romping and running. I wanted to steal him then, but eventually he grew and was sent off to school. Soon he flunked out and was sent home for adoption. He came into our kennel, a shy 59 lb pup, and I fell in love with him all over again. He had grown up to be small, but drop dead gorgeous! And the shyness went away in record time. But I resisted the temptation. We already had so many dogs! Then CJ died and John's lap was much too empty. We started thinking about keeping Peewee. Then LB's cancer was discovered and his leg amputated, so it wasn't a good time to be bringing in another dog.

But LB quickly recovered back to his normal self and the herd re-stabilized. And we still wanted to bring Peewee into the family. So he finally came upstairs a week ago or so and joined the family. But he had to have a new name. "Peewee" reminded me too much of Peewee Herman. We finally settled on Buckwheat (right), which was immediately shortened to Wheatie. Because he was never to race, his individual registration had never been sent in. But I wanted him to be "official", so his registration has been sent in with the name My Wheat Angel, a take off on his mother's name. Wheatie has blended right in, accepted by all the other dogs, some of whom even seem fond of him. He and his half-brother Gabe never met before Wheatie came here, but somehow they seem to know there's a connection. LB seems to realize it, too, and our three beautiful black boys hang together a lot. Wheatie is an absolute joy! He's not quite 22 months old now and the world is his oyster.

So we're back up to 12 house hounds, down only one from our high of 13 before Willie died. But with house guests bringing their own hounds to visit we've had as many as 18 in the house together with never (knock wood!) any more than minor problems. Mike and Gabe's former trainer, Tracy, lives with us now and helps a lot with the kennel. So there are always at least three 2-leggers and 30+/- hounds under our roof. Never a dull moment! Feeding time is a circus and the 3-level group roo sessions are amazing! Especially at 4AM. But for the most part it's surprisingly quiet and there's love in every inch of the house.

Sad update 3/12/03 - Less than two weeks after writing and publishing this article, we lost our beloved MONSTER on March 10. He suddenly fell very sick on Friday morning and spent that day and Saturday at the vet clinic. We brought him home Saturday where we gave him 24/7 care, and he held his own for a day and a half. But he began to lose ground rapidly early Monday morning. He died at about 8:15 AM at the clinic, as our tears and kisses gently rained down on his face. A specific cause was never found.

Update 5/29/03 - My beautiful black boy is gone.  LB's remaining front leg broke on May 27 and we had to help him on his way to the Rainbow Bridge.  There was no new tumor, but the bone had some irregularities.  We don't know for sure, but suspect that there was some underlying bone condition that caused both front legs to break BEFORE a tumor formed, and also may have predisposed him to osteosarcoma.  Right now it doesn't matter.  The house is so very quiet without him.

Update 9/30/03 - Another of our beloved kids has left us.  Hoe had surgery to remove a mass that appeared on ultrasound to be confined to her spleen.  But when they opened her up, there was cancer everywhere.  She never woke up.  I will never again be loved with such devotion as she gave me.

Update 2/10/04 - Elvis struggled against kidney disease for months, but the disease finally won two days ago.  He had lost about 30 lbs and none of various treatments helped him at all.  But he relished the extra attention he was getting and fought valiantly to hang on.  He was eating well and happy until Saturday.  He died peacefully at home on Sunday morning with all of us there with him.  We've lost 6 dogs in less than 2 years.  The herd is down to 9 now.  There's a little less work now with fewer dogs to take care of, but a lot less love.