Nearly 14 years into the run, Boone, who retired from the track with a racing record of 0-0-0 (undefeated, as George liked to say) crossed the finish line, when we said goodbye to the sweet old greyhound on Saturday.

In the past couple years I have taken Boone to the vet three times, expecting that he would not be coming home with me. But the visits seemed to inspire a determination to stay out of vet clinics, as each time, he rallied, refusing to give in to his frailties. The boost from our January visit however, proved to have a shorter shelf life, as the winter’s ice and snow took it’s toll on the big brindle dog.

His joyful spirit remained intact, which complicated the most dreaded decision of pet ownership. To choose to end the life of a loyal companion is a decision made only after a great deal of soul-search, prayer, and tears. But in the end, he was unable to pick himself up after an increasing number of falls, and that’s not much of a life.

I loved this old greyhound as much as I’ve loved my many lab and golden retrievers, but he left me still trying to figure out what made him tick.

I never really understood why he wouldn’t work for treats or squeaky toys, but I was humbled to watch him do almost anything I asked, just for opportunity to lean on me for a scratch of the ears.

I never really understood why he got so excited at the prospect of a car ride, then spent the entire trip plastered against the seat back, ears pinned to his head, panting and drooling, but I admired his courage to face the fear of travel, as well as his obvious optimism that whatever the destination, it was worth some temporary discomfort.

I never really understood his understanding of the word “walk” which seemed to be all about stopping to smell the roses. And the dandelions. As well as the tree trunks, tall grass, mowed hay fields, melting snow banks, and muddy footprints. We took so much time that we never covered much distance, but I appreciated his devotion to simply enjoying the world around us.

I never really understood his interactions with other animals, as he was afraid of the cats and the horses, showed little, albeit cordial, interest in other dogs, but I respected his ability to move Rowdy off the coveted family room dog bed by simply standing next to it.

Boone was the Leader of the Pack with a Peaceful Easy Feeling. A sweet and gentle presence who listened to kids in the libraries, ran figure-8’s in the horse arena, held his own with the house cat and made friends with all he met.

I didn’t really understand him, but I did really love him.