The Furever Coat

Christy Doherty

50plus Magazine

Life — it has an unexpected way of weaving circumstances to honor the unforgettable, the treasured, the iconic. It takes singular threads from our journeys and creates beautiful fabric in ways we couldn’t have imagined.

I had the coat made in a soft dusty teal, with a jet-black fleece lining. It suited our elegant black Greyhound, Mabel so well.

Karen Embler, Queen of fashionable Greyhound gear, had measured our retired racer herself. She’d crafted Mabel’s winter coat with a cozy snood to warm her neck and ears, and reflective piping for safe walking after dark. It was perfect.

I had “Mabel” embroidered in a feminine script on both sides — it was so “her.” She wore it to the park, for yard romps and beach adventures. I confess to being a dork — shocked when people knew my dog’s name — forgetting it was emblazoned on every coat Karen made for her — duh.

Mabel’s wardrobe grew, with summer weight, rainwear, and an “AmbassaDog” vest for the bowling alley. Such a fashionista! People looked for us on park walks. A low-slung Corgi cross with soulful eyes — and a thing for long-legged fast women — could spot Mabel from afar. Their mutual crush was charming.

But as with all beloved books, there comes a final page. After Mabel’s passing, our home was briefly without a hound.

Young foster Nahia Sophia came along and wore Mabel’s beloved coats well. Sadly, there were no more visits to Karen Embler for fashion consults; she’d sold her business, Greyt Outdoors, and moved away to be near family.

The warp and weave of life continued to evolve. For a time, we had three hounds, then I was widowed, and three hounds became two, and then one, and then none.

As the years passed, I parted with some of Mabel’s coats. But the final four were just too personal and precious. Having no hound to wear them was beside the point.

Eventually I reconnected with a long-lost love, and we married. Part of the bargain? Flash the Wonder Dog. He howled, had weird knobby knees and huge feet (a Bassador thing — half Bassett Hound and half Black Lab). Also, he whined, so a Whine-a-dor. Mostly he was man’s very best friend and counselor… ever.

Advancing age, arthritis and severe hip issues began to take Flash away much too soon. Bargaining hard for time, surgeries forestalled the inevitable. It’s crushing when veterinary science can’t fix your friend despite every trick in the book. The clock was ticking.

Facing the harsh reality of Flash’s decline, I gifted my husband Marty with a Terri Jacobson photo session. The drive would be long, but worth it. She had captured Mabel’s essence so perfectly back in the day.

Flash began to fade faster; Terri took a day off from her full schedule for the shoot. She’s amazing that way. Terri said there was no time to lose, we had to get the photos while we could.

That perfect autumn day, Marty lifted Flash into the car. Knowing Terri and her partner had hounds — Greyhounds and Borzoi’s — I gathered treasures I hoped would make them smile, including Mabel’s teal coat.

After Mabel’s session, we met their hounds, who burst onto the one-acre garden area. It was breathtaking — earthbound flight. We were especially taken with Glory, a loving Borzoi. Glory, beautiful Glory, was gravely ill but didn’t show it.

Several days later, Terri sent a note and a photo of Glory in the dusty teal coat. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge when I saw “Mabel” on the side, but in a good, sweet way. Terri said Glory loved it, that it fit her perfectly and comforted her – she was now easily chilled.

There was something so good and right about Glory enjoying that coat. She had instantly charmed Marty and me.

Days passed into weeks. Glory got spur-of-the-moment beach trips. Both she and Flash were losing ground.

Then things changed for everyone.

Glory and Karen Embler and Flash passed within days of each other. Once I processed that, I knew I had to write about it.

Why? Because Glory was so comforted by one of Karen’s beautiful, lovingly crafted coats. And because none of it would’ve happened if it weren’t for the amazing talent of photographer Terri Jacobson — who pulled the puzzle pieces together. Flash’s decline spurred the appointment that got Karen’s coat to Glory. Almost poetically, Flash crossed the Rainbow bridge right between Glory and Karen.

Warp and weave — the threads become the fabric.

In the moment we don’t always realize the things in life we create as lasting, tangible evidence that we have been here.

I believe, in between youthful romps beyond the rainbow bridge, there is a grand discussion between Glory, Mabel and Karen Embler about fashionable coats. I can just see Flash the Wonder Dog rolling his eyes at the long-legged furry fashionistas. And the now youthful friends try to one-up each other — each confident that Terri Jacobson captured them best — both inside and out.