Our greyhound “blessing” began 13 years ago when we moved into our home on Park The sudden loss of my Husky-Shepherd “Chips” was devastating. “I was just walking her today and now she's gone!” I sobbed as my husband Kip tried to console me. Chips had found a bag of SmartFood popcorn in our daughter's room. It only took a pinch of my fingers to pull the bag off her head, but she was gone.

We've all been there- that hole-in-the-heart feeling that won't go away. Who would be my best (k-9) friend now?

My family has a long history of adopting unwanted dogs; Kip and I even adopted one that was in the Genesee River in 1986.

I just couldn't see where the next dog was coming from. It had to be a good match.

Chips was an aggressive dog: totally devoted to her “Mom”, but didn't care for too many other people.

I needed a friendly, gentle dog that didn't need to be caged when people came to the house. My sister Lisa had mentioned greyhounds to me a few months prior to Chips' death. As a way to ease the pain and focus on something positive, I started researching the breed. I don't recall how I found GAGR, but I soon had to have my daily fix of narrow faces and big brown eyes!

Brenda and I started talking via e-mail. I was soon convinced GAGR would bring me my next “furry” friend. I filled out the application. My husband Kip soon agreed to meet with Brenda, Jim and “Elliot” Grammatico. Kip found out that greyhounds were friendly, low-shedding and QUIET- the perfect combination.

I studied the “Up For Adoption” page. I scanned every picture and description trying to discern which pup would be mine. Then, I found him!

“He's a friendly boy, a real tail-wagger” was the description of a red/fawn male named Seven-Up. Seven –Up? What kind of a goofy name was that? He sounded perfect. I couldn't believe his whelping date: 7/31/03. Our daughter Kelley was born on 7/31/87. Cool. With Brenda's agreement, we claimed Seven-Up as our own.

Our new boy came home on October 22, 2005. The dog and I stared blankly at each other, each wondering what we had gotten into. “ Boy, you sure look “hard” compared to a fluffy dog,” I thought. “ It's gonna take me a while, but I'm sure I'll come to love you very much”.

I looked at his fawn coloring and thought “Seven, Seven, Sev….SVEN! That's what we'll call him”…. he'll be my “Swedish” greyhound named after my great grandfather!

Within three days and help from “mom and dad” Sven mastered the stairs in our house. Having one straight and one narrow, curved staircase, this was no easy task.

It took probably two weeks to master going potty outside rather than inside.

All during this time, Sven clung to my leg as if he were bungeed to it. I often found myself tripping over him when he would suddenly step in my way. Well, some things haven't changed.

It took about a year, but Sven-man's personality started to shine through. He would come up to me, look me in the face and start nitting. I very much enjoyed (and still enjoy) the “roaching”, “flag-poling” and general goofy antics that come with having a greyhound!

When I first rubbed his tummy I said “Hmmm…. feels like micro-fiber.” Since that time, the words “microooo- FIBER ” have sent Sven into running circles, nitting and wagging his tail when he's been frisky.

Now, every walk is a chance for a meet and greet in Sven's mind. He's so excited to see people that he tries to sprint when a person is within 100 feet of him. He loves to go to meet and greets at Robin's Pet Corner, often staying on his feet until he gets exhausted and finally lies down. Sven enjoys the luxury of his own sofa right near mom's bed, as well as “doggie- bony bones” and other treats he may be given. Oh how a retired racer “suffers.”

Sometimes a faint whine or grunt will rise from the floor in an area I can't see him. That is always the signal that Sven needs loooove and petting. If not headed in time, the noises become more interesting and louder until I can no longer resist.

When it is time to go outside, Sven looks, paws and nits at and on me until I respond, all in fun and affection.

Sven is a real joy to have in the family. People can come and go while being greeted with a wet nose and an ever- wagging tail. He's my “Svenstermeyer” among other nick- names and I wouldn't trade my sweet boy for the world. He has truly filled a place in my heart that is and will always be only Sven's.