I woke up this morning early, as usual, for I am a slave to my dogs. It is important to walk the girls before temperatures rise to the point where, as they say, eggs will fry on the sidewalk. (though we tried that as kids and they really didn’t fry; however, they did cook a bit.) Anyway, back to the dogs…I have 3 greyhounds, 2 adopted and 1 foster, and they don’t like to do much in the heat of day but recline on their dog beds being cooled by fans and fed peeled, well they don't eat grapes, so doggie snacks. The typical day is up around 5 and down to the park early. Except this morning, we’re skipping the trip because my foster is limping. Since I’ve had her only 3 days, I feel it is best not to leave her home alone while I take the other two out. They ran yesterday and skipping a day today will produce only a small revolt, I’m guessing akin to the Boston Tea Party. They do love their morning outings.
So as I write this, my first blog post ever, after being greeted awake by the girls.
Breeze has jumped up on the bed with me and is sleeping with head draped across my legs.
Willow gave the drive-by acknowledgement and returned the living room and
Dru, the foster, has lifted her head enough to see me from her post at the foot of my bed where she has been most of the night.
All just waiting for me to get up and put on my tennis shoes so they can spring into action.
I am one in a large group of people who have found the joys in adopting a retired racing greyhound. That is what this blog is about….greyhounds. All about them, because I have come to realize it is all about the dogs; finding them homes, teaching them what a sliding glass door is and how to play with a squeaky toy, and all the joy, trials, laughter and love in between.
Until next time.
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