After more than a decade without a dog, I was finally ready to find a new companion. The adoption process can be fraught, but I was too jealous of all my neighbors and coworkers to let that stand in my way. With a small house and a long workday, I needed a pup to match some specific criteria. A little research presented me with the perfect option – the Greyhound.

It turns out that these “40-mph couch potatoes” aren’t easy to come by. Adopt-A-Greyhound Atlanta, our local organization, hadn’t had any retired racers come through in several months. But after months of persistent calling, I got the notice that some furry friends were headed our way, and I went to Stone Mountain as soon as I could.

I knew when I saw him that he was the one! Perfect in every way except one – his name. “Dutch Reagan” wasn’t going to fly. So with a new life ahead of him, he got a new one – TOBY!

After a few snips here and there, Toby arrived at home just shy of his fourth birthday, with tattooed ears and a birth certificate in tow. My new buddy and I shared a hometown (Jacksonville, FL), where he raced at the track that was a landmark throughout my childhood.

I’m still learning plenty about my wonder dog, but so far I know that he’s a 75-pound bundle of anxious love, which makes him very easy to relate to. He runs to the window to watch me depart for work each day, and is quite friendly with the legions of admirers we encounter all over town. Other dogs are a different story; he’s opposed to any bark in his direction. He’s decidedly retired and doesn’t seem to enjoy moving faster than a stroll.

Although he has about 15 minutes of wild energy in him each day, he loves a good couch and spends a great deal of time exploring new and amusing poses of relaxation. I’m amazed at how quickly he’s adapted, and inspired by how he demands attention but rarely makes a sound.