~Monday, Sept. 4, 2000~
     Jane, Leonor and the bicycle.
  This is Jane.  Jane is my newest foster greyhound.  She was adopted by a girl and her mother 5 years ago and now due to circumstances beyond their control, Jane has to find a new home.  She's 8 years old, is on Phenobarbitol for seizure disorder and is at least 15 pounds overweight.  Not only that, but she's a major alpha bitch. 
  Jane walked into our house  and discovered immediately that Nadya was completely omega and is taking full advantage of it.  She has Nadya completely cowed and I asked my rep to put a rush on finding Jane a new home.  I will NOT have Nadya living this way.
  I had a Greyhound meet & greet last Sunday, so I took Nadya along with Leonor just to get her away from Jane for a few hours.  It was a very enjoyable day and Nadya was the hit of the day.  There were several people who commented how they had never seen a "long-haired greyhound" before.
We spent most of the day explaining that they still had not seen one.
  One woman kept asking questions about her: "How much does she eat?"  Does she get along with other animals?"  "Does she shed a lot?"  "Does she ever bark?"  "Does she walk well on a leash?"
  I thought the intense questioning was a bit odd, but we usually welcome questions about the Greyhounds, so I thought, "Why not answer the same questions about the Borzoi?"
  When she asked how long it would take to get her if she wanted to adopt her, I nearly choked.  I tried to calmly explain that Nadya was NOT up for adoption.  That she was my own dog as were all the dogs there.  They were our own personal dogs.  She just harumphed at me and stalked away.  I decided then and there that she wouldn't have gotten a Greyhound either.  Too moody!
  On the way home we passed a bicycler
who was studying the road ahead of him earnestly.  Leonor, being my little jokester, popped her head out of the window and just as we pulled up alongside of him, she let out a loud, shrill "RAAAPF!!"   I swear, if the guy had actually fallen off the bike, I would have stopped to help him, but 
since he only wobbled a bit, I figured it was only a mild heart attack and continued on, reprimanding Leonor for her little prank and trying not to laugh out loud.  My daughter, Sara, was in hysterics in the seat next to me.  Wiping tears from her eyes, she blurted out, "You hafta admit, Mom, that was really funny!" (She was right.  It was kind of funny.)
    ~Tuesday, Sept. 5, 2000~
                         The Laser Light.
  This morning, Nadya wanted to show me her little "Tigger" springs on her feet and leapt over my night stand, table lamp and all and landed square in the middle of the bed, whereby she proceeded to attack and kill my comforter.  The expression on her face was priceless!
  As was the expresson she had when she saw the laser light today.  I've tried to play with this particular toy with the Greyhounds, but they seem completely oblivious and I just figured they couldn't see it because it was red.  Well folks, Nadya can see it!  I was idley rolling it across the floor when she spotted it.  She watched it as I made the little red dot crawl along the carpet toward her.  She watched it go away again.  Her eyes followed it as it crept up the wall and back down again.  When it headed back toward her, she stood up and started to follow it with her nose.  All of a sudden, she pounced  and surely must have caught her prey,  but when she pulled her feet back, it was gone!  Then, in an instant, it back again!  And it was ON her foot.  The absolute nerve!  She snapped and chased it until Jane, (in her crate), started to snarl at her when she got too close. 
  That sort of put a kibosh on the whole game, but she still watched it move across the floor and followed it all the way back to my hand.  She actually figured out that I was responsible for that light.  She may be a coward, but she is, by anyone's standards, the smartest dog in the house.
You are listening to "November Rain".