To further her quest for world greyhound domination, J recently rehomed a rather enormously large ex-courser to a lady who lives relatively near us. Finding this out, we naturally invited said lady and her hound for coffee. Well. You should have seen Bert’s face when Gorgeous George appeared, along with petite, pretty and just-as-gorgeous Ger. This, ladies and gentlemen, is not a greyhound, this is a small horse.

Still, after his initial shock (how dare we bring another greyhound into the house - a bigger, beefier one at that), they got on rather well, giving each other a good old waggy welcome. Bert was well aware of his diminutive stature (not often a bloody great lump like Bert gets made to feel small) and kept a respectful distance as George had a jolly good look round and (gasp!) played with Bert’s squeaky football.

In the end they settled next to each other (separate beds, though, thanks) and went to sleep, Bert with his back huffily turned towards George (who, being bigger, obviously didn’t give a poo) while we had a good old chat, compared greyhoundy notes, and ate some cake. A very successful first meeting then, and a potential doggy walking friend into the bargain. Result.

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