Woof!

Among the many things that my friend Belinda has taught me over the years is that rescuing greyhounds is a Very Good Thing.

Once, long ago, I'd been to the dog track, didn't much care for it, had a vague sense of unease about how the dogs are slaughtered when they've outlived their professional usefulness, and that's about it.

A decade or so later, I met her new adoptees. I was amazed, right off, to see up close their unworldly built-for-speed look, the raked ears and massive rear thighs, especially. I got a few chances to play with them in their big backyard, and I want to tell you, seeing these things fly by from up close is truly jaw-dropping. But I was most surprised to learn what a gentle nature they have. Ten minutes of furious activity per day seems to be their routine, followed by a bout of ferocious slobbering in the water bowl, followed by two hours of trying to pretend that they are lap dogs.

See a couple of nice paintings of some old west coast friends of mine: Hey, Wanna Split a Sandwich? and Red Carpet Retirement.