Blue.

On the way back from northern Victoria, called into the Greyhound Adoption Program's kennels at Seymour to pick up a new foster dog - Blue, a brindle boy with a bluish sheen to his coat.

We were greeted by assorted dogs running about - the kennel doubles as accommodation for any dogs (Goldie had stayed overnight) - and over by the main kennel was a small run with two greyhound pups, totally adorable black and white females. One had already been taken but the last one was still available. She was hard to resist, all legs like a baby foal.

The Greyhound Adoption lady told us that Eric's new owner had been in contact and Eric was doing fine.)

Then Blue came out, we packed him into the car and set off home. It is his first foster home and he couldn't get up the steps, shied at the shiny tiles in the laundry and then spent the next twenty minutes walking around the house sniffing every corner.

He was very hungry - despite his huge meal - and we had to use the water-bottle squirt technique to dissuade him from table-surfing. He got up to the kitchen sink at one stage and starting slurping the water, it wasn't too sudsy fortunately. Squirt, squirt. He's a quick learner.

He was very good overnight, settling onto the mattress we allocated to him and only getting up a few times. Perfectly house-trained, of course - despite never having lived in a house - greyhounds are extremely clean dogs and will not soil their surroundings.

Next morning, we fed them and left them outside to amuse themselves. Blue started barking at the fence so I stood at the bathroom window and aimed a few squirts of water his way. Goldie was watching me wondering what on earth I was doing. Blue couldn't see me. I felt like a sniper.

Soon he settled down and they both went and snoozed on the lawn, listening to the birds chirping in the early morning sunshine.