Over the course of an hour we met a dozen more dogs, with names like Angel, Mazie, Lulu, Oliver, Lady, Odie. Each of them was a greyhound, by the way, capable of taking off like a bullet and hitting 40 miles an hour or faster.
Funny thing is, they simply don't do that, even though they are bred to race. They prefer doing nothing at all. Some sleep 18 hours a day. "You see how friendly he is now?" one owner said. "Well, he'll be asleep in the car on the way home, and we don't live very far from here."
Like other folks gathered today at Ivanhoe Park Brewing Company in support of Greyhounds in Motion ($1 from every pour went to the cause), my family has been thinking about adopting one of these amazing animals, especially now that greyhound racing in Florida is coming to an end and thousands of these dogs will need homes. "They're so cool, and they're so sweet," my wife said. And that's exactly right. They're gentle, loving creatures, striking and statuesque, with regal snouts and legs for days and not an ounce of fat anywhere.
Once the initial hubbub of today's event wore off, you could see the hounds relaxing, tuning out, some lying down, closing their eyes and drifting off. "Greyhounds are total couch potatoes," I heard someone say.