I had a friend in my house at a scary period when Koko was in heat. As she was the apple of my eye I was eager to look after her properly. Zoli, my friend opened the gate as he needed something from his car which he parked outside. Koko escaped right away, that was what she was waiting for. I still saw that she met a monster at the end of the street and however I shouted after her they ran together into the woods. I was desperate and outraged and shouted at Zoli in such a rude way that he took offence.
I tried to find Koko but it took hours before she appeared. I still can remember how beautiful she was standing between two rows of vines sniffing the air as the setting sun lit her fine face. I took her in my arms and took her home.
What I did the next day was a silly thing, now I already know. I asked the vet to give her hormonal injections in case she got pregnant. There was no side effect as far as I could tell. Next time she went into heat I took her to a very famous stud in Vienna. I still can remember his name: Romeo of Wuthering Heights. They did the chasing and Koko was buoyant; then they mated and didn’t forget the kissing scene in the end either.
I signed a contract about payment and we went home. Peter assisted me or rather I assisted him as usual if it was about breeding.
Weeks passed and Koko didn’t show any signs of pregnancy. This happens I thought though I even ensured by taking a blood sample that she was paired on the optimal day.
On the following occasion I had her mated by a beautiful stud from Russia and this time she didn’t seem pregnant either. Anyway in about two months time she started to dig on the sofa which seemed to be a typical sign for going into labor with dogs.
I brought her to the veterinary clinic and they performed sonography on her right away.
There was only one dog fetus in her womb but the womb itself was surrounded by a thick fluid. She was operated on and they found she had purulent metritis, this is the inflammation of the womb.
I was given the little puppy before binning him, as they told me to. I started blowing warm air on his tummy and also licked it to start bowel activity. I decided to give him the name Boni as it happened on the day of Bonipie and that I will keep him. He developed into a beautiful male and had several litters. At the time Misi went down with a stroke I couldn’t relocate home from Schottland, I found him in a great place in Germany with the help of Magyar Greyhound Rescue where he lives even today with another whippet. It may be better for him as Misi didn’t really ensure that he had proper physical activity.
Koko lived up to 15 years and then had to be euthanised as she was blind and also had a stroke. This caused her to bump into furniture, often whined and slept during the rest of the day. I saw her some months before this happened and she recognized me for a moment, smiled at me and wagged her tail.
She was a great pal, she stood by me at times when life seemed to be going to an end.
She also had a great radar. If someone visited me and she pushed her nose against her bed till it got deformed in a curve that meant that she didn’t have much confidence in that man.
And she proved to be right in most of the cases.
Szia! Itt a szöveged javított, angolul természetesebben hangzó, nyelvtanilag és szerkezetileg helyesebb változata. Igyekeztem megtartani az eredeti hangulatot és történetmesélést, miközben az angol anyanyelvűek számára is jól érthető és élvezhető lett a szöveg:
Koko I had a friend visiting during a particularly stressful time — Koko was in heat. She was the apple of my eye, and I was determined to take proper care of her.
My friend Zoli opened the gate to grab something from his car, which was parked outside. That was all Koko needed — she dashed out immediately. It was like she’d been waiting for the opportunity. I saw her at the end of the street where she met what I can only describe as a “monster” — probably a stray male dog. Despite my shouting, they ran off together into the woods.
I was desperate and furious. I yelled at Zoli so harshly that he took real offense.
I searched for Koko for hours before she finally returned. I’ll never forget the sight of her standing between two rows of vines, sniffing the air, her face glowing in the light of the setting sun. I picked her up in my arms and carried her home.
What I did the next day was, in hindsight, foolish. I asked the vet to give her hormone injections, just in case she had gotten pregnant. As far as I could tell, there were no side effects.
The next time she went into heat, I took her to a renowned stud in Vienna. I still remember his name: Romeo of Wuthering Heights. They chased each other around, and Koko was clearly enjoying herself. They eventually mated — and even seemed to share a tender “kiss” at the end.
I signed a payment contract, and we headed home. Peter assisted me — or rather, as usual when it came to breeding, I assisted him.
Weeks went by, but Koko showed no signs of pregnancy. It happens, I thought, even though we had her blood tested to confirm the timing was optimal.
The following season, I had her mated with a stunning Russian stud, but again, no pregnancy seemed to follow. However, about two months later, she began digging at the sofa — a classic sign that labor might be approaching.
I rushed her to the veterinary clinic, and they performed an ultrasound immediately. There was only one puppy visible, but the uterus was surrounded by a thick fluid. She was taken into surgery, and they diagnosed her with purulent metritis — a serious uterine infection.
Before disposing of the puppy, as they had advised, they let me hold him. I gently blew warm air on his belly and even licked it to stimulate his digestion — just as a mother dog would. I decided to name him Boni, as he was born on Bonipie day, and I chose to keep him.
He grew into a handsome male and went on to father several litters.
Later, when Misi suffered a stroke and I couldn’t return home from Scotland, I found Boni a wonderful new home in Germany with the help of Magyar Greyhound Rescue. He still lives there today with another whippet. It might be for the best — Misi hadn’t really provided the level of physical activity Boni needed.
Koko lived until the age of 15. In her final months, she went blind and suffered a stroke. She would often bump into furniture, cry softly, and sleep most of the day. Eventually, she had to be put to sleep. I saw her a few months before the end — she recognized me for a moment, smiled, and wagged her tail.
She was a loyal companion — always by my side, even when life felt like it was falling apart.
She also had a great instinct for people. If a visitor made her uncomfortable, she would press her nose so hard into the mattress that it would bend out of shape. That was her silent warning — and she turned out to be right more often than not.
