Born to run, born to love

Today, Scott and I took Proud for a greyhound Summer Blast, or as we called it, his reunion. The group that we adopted him from in January holds this annual get-together for greyhounds and their owners (or two-legged friends as they're called).

There were more than 120 hounds at the park today, from several different states. Some of the retired racers were just off the track looking for homes; others were getting up there in age or had injuries and illnesses. All of them were just lovebugs though.

Including our normally socially awkward fella.

Proud marched his way to every. SINGLE. dog, head-butted them and gave them the 'greyhound handshake' (a good, effective sniff to the crotch and/or butt), making friends wherever he went. He was so overwhelmed by everything going on (vet advice, shopping at vendors, an obstacle course, a costume parade) that he didn't lay down one time.

I don't think there are many types of dogs... wait, many species in general that would be friendly, calm and sweet enough to surround themselves with all those dogs, all that commotion and all that ear-scratching and pull it off successfully.

Scott and I both said aftewards how much the event made us appreciate the breed and, of course, our Proud Man.

The best part?
The group 'roo.'

Basically, they lined up a large amount of the dogs at the end of the event and got a few of them to start their version of a bark, which is sort of a half-whine, werewolf-like yelp up to the sky. Within seconds, every single normally-quiet animal was trying out their vocal chords. Proud kept looking up at me and Scott like "Wait, are you sure this is allowed? Is this cool?"

Finally, Scott got down near Proud and made the sound (sort of ) himself. Proud lurched his big nose into the air and joined in on the "roo."

And it absolutely melted his Momma's heart.