I’ve had whippets all of my adult life. My primary goal, when I was younger, was to save up enough money to buy a house so that I could have a dog. I had done a ton of research on what would be the ideal breed. Whippets don’t bark, are pretty lazy and don’t need a lot exercise, have short fur and keep themselves pretty clean, like to run (like me), and are adorable.

In 1999, I bought the house and brought home Rocket as a puppy. I generally believe in having 2 animals at a time so they have a friend, so a few years later, in 2002, puppy Chase arrived.

When Rocket passed away at 14 years old, we had the opportunity to adopt a rescue whippet — whippets very rarely come up for rescue. Cricket had been saved from an animal hoarder who had 30+ whippets. She was 4 years old and a sweet, sassy girl who remains the smartest dog I’ve ever had. We got to adopt her because the head of the local whippet breed club and rescue org remembered me from some events with Rocket.

After Chase passed away, I had gotten more involved in animal rescue, and really wanted to adopt an adult who needed a home. We got pretty far down the road of adopting a greyhound until a volunteer brought one over for the home check and Cricket FREAKED out, barking and getting very upset. We soon learned she would not tolerate a new adult dog, so we again adopted a whippet puppy, Enzo, in 2016.

Cricket had had at least one litter of puppies, so we thought she would be a bit of a surrogate mom. Instead, I think she resented the puppy getting so much attention! But they became good pals. By the time Cricket passed away relatively quickly from cancer, Enzo was 8 years old, and devastated by the loss. I still don’t think he will ever go back to being the forever-puppy he was before Cricket arrived.

Post-COVID, the world of homeless dogs had gotten exponentially worse, and we were more determined to adopt an adult who needed a home. Enzo had been a particularly destructive puppy, so we were also not super interested in getting a puppy. I had to do a lot of emotional work to accept that a dog could be a great dog that we could love to pieces, even if she wasn’t sighthound-shaped. We had come around to not wanting to adopt a former racing greyhound, because at 65-80 pounds, they’re just a little too big (both Chase and Cricket needed to be carried up and down the stairs at the end of their lives). We went to a lot of shelter adoption events, and met a lot of great dogs, but none were quite right.

Greyhound Friends for Life occasionally has greyhound mixes and whippets (we had fostered one for them a couple years earlier), so I thought I’d just check in on their website and see what dogs they had for adoption. Right there, on the front page, I was greeted by THIS – a picture of a litter of ADORABLE PUPPIES that were at least half-greyhound (mom was picked up as a stray in Bakersfield with no chip or collar, no one came to claim her, and she was about to give birth). We went up to meet them, and of course, fell in love with our baby Comet (then Febe).

They didn’t know the identity of the father, but were having DNA tests done. We knew they would get adopted quickly, so we committed to adopting her before the DNA tests came back. Based on the puppies' weights, they were estimated to be 35-50 pounds as adults, so we knew she wouldn’t be half Bernese Mountain Dog or something. They also looked very “sighthound-y” to me, even as babies.

Imagine our surprise when the DNA testing came back on the puppies: 100% greyhound. Because Comet’s mom was relatively small, she has filled out to a very small (for a greyhound) 52 pounds. (For comparison, Enzo is 36 pounds.) I’m not religious, but thinking about this story makes me wonder if there’s some sort of mystical force guiding the universe. I’ve always loved whippets. I’ve had whippets for 25 years. I came around to accepting that my next dog would not be a whippet. And in the end what the universe accidentally presented me with was…. a dog that is basically a whippet, but slightly larger.

For years I got custom shirts that said “No, they’re not greyhounds. Yes, they are whippets” to fend off the constantly repeated question. Now Adam and I have matching ones that say, “Yes, she is a greyhound. Yes, he is a whippet. Yes, they are fast.” Yes, they are both perfect.