Comet's Tale: How the Dog I Rescued Saved My Life

Comet's Tale: How the Dog I Rescued Saved My Life

Lynette Padwa

Language: English

Pages: 272

ISBN: 1616200456

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Comet’s Tale is a story about a friendship between two former winners, both a little down on their luck, who together stage a remarkable comeback. A former hard-driving attorney, Steven Wolf has reluctantly left his job and family and moved to Arizona for its warm winter climate. There he is drawn to a local group that rescues abused racing greyhounds. Although he can barely take care of himself because of a spinal condition, Wolf adopts Comet, an elegant cinnamon-striped racer. Or does Comet adopt Wolf?  

In Comet’s Tale we follow their funny and moving journey as Wolf teaches Comet to be a service dog. With her boundless enthusiasm and regal manners, Comet attracts new friends to Wolf’s isolated world. And finally, she plays a crucial role in restoring his health, saving his marriage, and broadening his definition of success.

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quickly and often, the owners don’t want to spend one more dime on their food or anything else. At that point, they’re just an expense that needs to be eliminated. Rescue and adoption groups have been formed to keep the dogs from being killed. We really need people to adopt them.” I instinctively stepped back, sensing a hard sell coming my way. Maggie picked up on it and laughed. “We’d better get going. So long,” she said. “Right. Bye,” I replied lamely. Lance led Maggie through the parking

the chance to right a wrong, in whatever small or large way, you have a duty to step up and do it. But if that was the source of my conflicted feelings, I could simply volunteer to help with fund-raisers. My attraction to greyhounds was something much deeper than duty. From the first time I saw Lance, sunlight sparking off his smooth coat while he calmly surveyed the world around him, my gut detected an attitude, a wisdom—an aura, if you will—that was Zen-like. I was left with the impression

wanted me to call you to see if the surgeon I work with might be able to help you.” 14 MARCH–JUNE 2005—ARIZONA Freddie was due home from work in eight hours, and until then I nervously wobbled from room to room, out to the pool and back inside again. I knew she would try to douse my expectations, which surely could only lead to disappointment. Freddie paid her own mental toll every time I received another negative medical assessment. She would have to watch me absorb the blow, and of

immediately pulled Freddie back to our room. Over the past year, Comet had displayed an uncanny ability to decipher speech and gestures that weren’t even directed her way. She always knew when something unusual was going on with my health, and in those instances she refused to leave my side except for the briefest of breaks. Freddie had resorted to spelling words like have to leave or go or even doctor, to no avail. On this morning Comet had no patience for dallying on a walk. She wanted to know

fallen into bed at five o’clock. She would assure the girls that my recovery was progressing, but they were dubious. So was Jackie. The third time she visited from Flagstaff specifically to see me, only to find me oblivious to her presence, she told her mom, “From now on I’ll just call.” The stress of trying to produce a perfect recovery caused me to revert to bad habits. Instead of the half hour of daily therapeutic exercises prescribed by my physical therapist, I did two one-hour sessions

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