Train
Train was 11 years old when he left us, having shared almost eight beautiful years (just short of six days). If Train were a human, he would have embodied the ultimate gentleman: gentle, polite, and quietly dignified. A fierce protector, his deep growl toward intruders was the most commanding I’ve ever heard from a greyhound. He adored his squeaky toys, squeaking them until they could squeak no more. As the ruler of the backyard, he made sure to keep his greyhound housemates in check, never allowing anyone to outrun him—though few could match his speed. My champion leaner and elbow nudger, he craved the attention and adoration he received daily. My sweet snuffle-kisser, with those little hairs on his lips, would snuffle you before gently kissing you. Such a gentle soul, Train brought joy to our lives, and I will miss him every day for the rest of my life. I feel so fortunate to have shared in his precious life. As we celebrate dogs lost, I cherish Train’s memory alongside Nittany's Angels.
