December 10th, 2011 § Leave a Comment
Tomorrow a man is coming to our apartment with a greyhound.
D and I have been talking about adopting a rescued dog for a while — mostly as “oh my god, this moment sitting in the kitchen watching Pee Wee Herman cartoons would be so much better WITH A DOG!” — so, with the end of holiday travel in sight, I filled out an adoption form with a retired racing greyhound rescue.
It took me a while to warm up to the idea. “Greyhounds looks soooo weird!” Or rather: “Greyhounds look soooo much like me!” They’re sort of alien looking, like lanky ancient beasts. The King James Bible lists the greyhound as one of the four things that are “comely in going,” next to a lion, a king, and a goat. (That’s Proverbs 30:29-31. Thanks, Wikipedia.) I’m not comely in going, but I do have a particularly long body type, and I’m sensitive about becoming one of those dog owner who looks like her dog.
Just add wig.
But former racer greyhounds are perfect for our lifestyle. They’re good in apartments; they sleep 18-20 hours a day; they don’t bark or nag or do dumb little dog things. Plus we would get the added benefit of knowing we’re rescuing a dog that had a pretty bizarre, possibly unhappy existence up to that point. (They also are fun to dress up.) So, a man from the rescue place will check out our apartment, answer our questions, and let a real live greyhound mince around our place for an hour or two.
I’ll obviously update more as the adoption process continues, but we’re definitely hoping, post-New Year, to have a dog that enjoys the occasional Iwerks caper, who will possibly roo when Mr. Pin Cushion Man makes his appearance.
