Comet’s found a home!

Amy Gash read Steve Wolf’s memoir COMET: HOW THE GREYHOUND I RESCUED SAVED MY LIFE the very day I sent it to her, rallied her troops at Algonquin, and pre-empted it 48 hours later.

I met Wolf at the Hillerman conference in Albuquerque, mobbed by conference faculty urging him to write a book about the gorgeous service dog by his side.  Abandoned at the Tucson track and locked in a crate with her muzzle still on, Comet was anxious and mistrustful when Wolf adopted her. Wolf could relate. Once a successful attorney, Wolf had been forced into early retirement by the return of a crippling childhood spinal condition. On doctor’s orders he moved to Arizona. Cut off from his family in Nebraska, Wolf felt as lonely and scared as Comet.

When dog and man first met, Comet didn’t know how to walk on tile floors, climb stairs, or even how to play.  In fits and starts, Wolf introduced Comet to backyards, children, toys, lakes, and liver treats.  But as Wolf’s health declined, and against the advice of professional trainers, he decided to train Comet to be a service dog. Greyhounds are notoriously skittish—they’ll chase anything that moves—yet Comet quickly learned to help Wolf walk, shop, and get out of bed.  And how could Wolf stay depressed when Comet was busy dragging him to gawk at every security guard (Comet has a thing for men in uniform), or plucking the stuffed toys off drugstore shelves, or hauling his wheelchair at top speed through a smiling, scattering crowd in the airport terminal?

And then Comet saved his life—twice.  But to find out about that, you’ll have to read the book.

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