So me and the boyfriend-now-fiance doohickey (as well as Kaye, whose totally awesome video game blog you should read, if you don't already) are working at moving in together. And anyone who knows me knows that I love dogs. And am fully planning on getting one as soon as income allows. So, when there's a fifty foot billboard around the corner from my house that says ADOPT A GREYHOUND and has a picture of two adorable hounds cuddling, you can imagine what happens whenever I'm in a car/get behind the wheel:
"Omigawd Sam! Can we go? Please? Can we? Saaaaaam? Pleeeeeeeeease?!"
"But...its such a long drive...and gas prices...."
"PLEASE?!!?!!!?!?!!"
"...fine."
So, anyway, we've been there quite a few times now. And, yes, I've developed a favorite.
(His name is Trapper, and he's part dingo I'm pretty sure. Also, he doesn't have a tail anymore.) Sadly, my favorite would eat my cat...soooo that's out of the question.
But, what this is really about is me finding these dogs... fascinating, quite frankly. They're like, the big dog breed for cat lovers. For serious. And, they're surprisingly chill. Also, they want to eat small dogs. Which is always fun.
Wait, what?
Yeah. So I was walking one of them yesterday, a littler one that the guy in charge of the kennels said was "Probably cat-friendly. I guess..." We took her out, she was super happy and excited to go outside ("Do you wanna go for a waaaalk?")... and then she saw a little dog. Well, her ears perk up and she's suddenly there is nothing in the world but this little dog.
I'm sure most of you have seen the look that dogs get when you hold their favorite toy right out of their reach. Yeah. That.
I swear, I could almost hear her thinking.
"I wonder if you squeak like my toys. I'll bite you and I'll pull out your stuffing and I will FIND that squeaker and squeak it all day long." - Juliet the Dog.
In fact, it took until we were very...very far away from it (completely out of sight, and probably out of scent) for her to focus on anything else. Like sniffing poop.
Yup. Poop always wins out over living chew toys. That's a lesson we all should learn and take to heart.
If you're interested in helping ex-racing Greyhounds find permanent homes and/or live out the rest of their days in comfort, you should check out the National Greyhound Adoption Program's website, by clicking that link.
Ha!
ReplyDeleteI never liked greyhounds that much. I think it's terrible what happens to the ex-racing ones, but I don't see myself ever owning one. They need so much exercise. One of my scout leaders had two of them. There was a dirt ring in her backyard from where they would just run around in circles.
One Finnigan is enough to keep me on my toes.
Thanks for the plug, too. :p
I figured I had to since I stole your formatting :P
DeleteWhich was stolen from Lizzie's. :D
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