[gplus count=”true” size=”Medium” ]I adopted my first ex-racing greyhound from an organization dedicated to these dogs. I didn’t know anyone who had one nor did I know anyone who knew what greyhounds looked like. But, like everyone else who would come after me, all it took was seeing one of these breath-taking dogs to lose my heart.
And, finally, the ex-racing greyhound that would be a part of my family for the next three years – the dog that would do more public relations for the ex-racing greyhound adoption program that was about to get kick-started in my city – was just around the corner of Connie’s house.
Connie led my family and I around the corner of her log cabin home. Opening the gate that led into her fenced back yard, she pointed to a smaller, kennel enclosure. Then she opened the inner gate to that section so that I could walk inside. The gate door clanked open, and headed straight toward me was a doe-eyed, sleek, muscular, fawn greyhound, grinning widely at all of us.
This was Zia Comanche. He was 80 pounds of muscle, huge brown eyes that when locked onto my eyes pulled me into the depths of his soul. And he was happy. His out-going yet calm disposition would forever be his calling card. He was gracious, delightful, well-mannered and easy-going.