borz

My dad wanted to adopt a dog with some basic criteria: * not a constant barker * no excess drooling * not over-bred (= increased chance of genetic abnormalities) * tall enough so that when he pet it, he wouldn't have to bend over * no tail wagging (he leaves half-drank cans of Coke all over the place) * not too large (= displatic hips) * no wet-dog smell (= no water dogs with heavy oil coats) * no bully breeds or breeds with temper problems * female (he had no desire to see dog junk hanging out) * plain, old-fashioned, cool looking. Yeah - he's an engineer. He came across My People - the Borzoi / Russian Wolfhound - and started to call some rescue societies since they knew many breeders and could tell him who was reputable or not. Many recommended my dojo in Florida and we granted him an audience. I really had no purpose on The Farm: * I was out of conformation (= not show or breeding quality) * I was tired of lure coursing (even though I am a Junior Champion) * I wasn't a part of the pack * I took every opportunity I could to escape The Farm (I found holes in the fence and could leap over sections of it) * I was a 40-save lefty submariner on a team that was going to finish 20 games out of the playoffs with free agency looming the following year He adopted me in September 2005 (but not before I had my fellow Bilderbergers check on him first). We have been together ever since.