Ode to Dog

Gordon the Greyhound has been a foster dog in my home since late October. On Monday, he goes to his forever home. No, not the one in the sky with endless dog treats; the one in McKinney with two nice people who have a cat - which I sort of hope he tries to eat. But he won't because he's a nice dog and a clueless dog and only barks at something when it happens to be me, quietly walking down the hall at night. Sharpest tool in the shed for sure.

Here is Gordie going to work with Lou this morning. Just going for a ride, hanging out in the back. Like it's his throne.


I had forgotten about it until someone reminded me, but Santa's Little Helper on The Simpsons is a greyhound. And I think it's safe to say, Gordon and Santa's Little Helper look a little alike.

I think they have the same sire.

Gordon makes me get up earlier, go for walks, encouraged me to run on my bad knee again, and in general, makes me (and the boyfriend) happy. He's a reason to stay home, a reason to go out for a walk. And for the most part, he's very well mannered. Doesn't surf the counter or climb on the furniture. He's discovered the joys of bringing socks and slippers to his bed and I'm sure the neighbors don't appreciate the herd of horses running around the apartment below them at times, but it just means Gordon is excited about going for a walk. Or a car ride. Or just plain happy to be alive.

Tomorrow morning he goes to the vet to get a shot. And he will probably look like this.