My latest foster pooch is named Poison. He doesn’t look Poison or act like Poison (except when he lifts his leg on things he shouldn’t) but such is the life of a racing greyhound. My hope is that his new family will change it to a more fitting moniker.
But in the spirit of the season, I gathered with other retired racers and their families for a little celebration. My boy was – what else? – a heavy metal rocker.
What you can barely see through all the curls is an Ozzy Osbourne tee and a red bandana tied around his front leg. He was quite popular with the ladies 🙂