Davey the Greyhound's first night.

Davey arrived yesterday. He is a big, friendly Greyhound, fawn brindle. Davey is only three and his racing career recently ended.

We had a look at his papers. Davey's winnings were $75. For some reason, I don't know why, reading that makes me sad.

$75.

The poor dog. A princely, aristocratic, noble, elegant masterpiece of nature, and he's tossed out because he only earned $75.

Anyhow. Last night was the first time he spent in a house in his life (as far as we know). It certainly appears that way. He is unfamiliar with everything in a house. He jumped when the TV was turned on. He was fascinated with the curtains.

Goldie the Brittany was all over him, jumping around like a pup.

Apart from being unfamiliar with domestic surroundings, Davey was quite calm and serene, as most Greyhounds are, and slept on his allotted soft mattress most of the night.

A couple of times, he woke, walked into the bedroom, went to the window, poked his head behind the curtains, had a look out, then went back to bed.

In the morning, we took him for a walk to the shop to get the paper. He bounced along enthusiastically, wearing his greyhound coat in the cold morning air.

Davey will stay for three weeks. Then he will go to two further foster homes and, after he is assessed, will be put up for adoption.