At the previous retirement day last month, as I was walking past the front of the McRorie's house, I remember seeing her hobbling to the front door with Joyce. And at the retirement day before that one, I remember her lying down on a moving blanket that was laid out under a canopy where newly arrived and bathed greyhounds would be toweled dry later.
I had my 50mm lens on; I opened the aperture up and tried to focus on the eyes. I knew I was going to overexpose her white fur but I didn't care.
She was wearing a coat to keep her warm.
It was a cool December morning, but she was quite toasty in her spot of sunshine:
Later, Crystal was moved back inside the house before the dog hauler arrived with the newest retirees from Caliente. Joyce told me that on Crystal's final night she seemed well earlier that day but later that evening she was just a little out-of-sorts.
A final photo of her on the blanket: