What is she singing? Try this.

Responding to a post by Ellen Ganapoulos at Greyhound Friends of New Jersey:

I’ll probably expand this into a real post later, Ellen. But what strikes me most is not cuteness but the recognition we all feel for things greyhound. We all know this stuff, have seen this stuff, love this stuff, and wait for it. Saw a serious medical article questioning whether or not sighthounds were really dogs, because they differ from the main in so many ways, physiological and biochemical. Not quite like the rest.

This is the bond that ties us all together, the privilege of being with these amazing creatures, the fastest, the slowest, the gentlest, and in some ways the most mysterious. They do comical things, but they are never without the deepest dignity. They look so much alike and yet they exhibit a dazzling array of personalities, all projected through similar pop eyes and needle noses. If there is a supermodel of the dog world, this is surely it, but they are not mean or vain or avaricious like their would-be human counterparts.

If human, they’d be picked for the jocks and cheerleaders with their big chests and slim waists and extraordinary athletic ability. Being greys instead, they carry around Winnie the Pooh, eye your sandwich, accumulate stuffed toys to cuddle, and find couches to lie on.

I’ve been impressed by the number and range of greyhound fanciers. I wish more people got rescue greys than Goldens. The greys are easier for families than the hyperactive ones. I wish more people knew that this isn’t a breed of dog but a species apart, maybe an angel. And I wish they didn’t die so young. But maybe that’s part of being an angel. You visit for a time, offer a healing of some sort, and then return to heaven.

Don’t know how to think about how that might work? We’ll have to agree to disagree. In the meantime…

Diva.