Car is simply “Car.”
And I love him.
He has done everything I ask of him, every time. He drives everywhere I want to go, at the speed we both like traveling at. He spends hours alone, and never complains. He goes out in any weather, and gets places safely. He always starts, and always stops when I ask. When we had a big tire blowout, traveling in excess of 70 mph, car gracefully let me pull him over to the side without mishap. No panic on his part. Car is my protector, my home away from home.
All the Gang greyhounds love Car.
Car is the first thing they know when they leave behind the life of crates, and slavery, and pain. He is their first haven. And they never forget that. They trust Car. They can be scared of everything around them, but they know that Car will protect them.
Say his name — “Car” — and they become jumping beans. “Yes, yes, yes.” they say — “Go in Car.” If they at all think we are going to visit Car, they are ecstatic. When we walk around the yard, they always end the walk surrounding Car. Bobbing and weaving and saying, “Car, we want to go with you.” They will chase Car down the driveway if Car tries to leave without them.
Car brings them immeasurable joy. Car protects and provides. He took them from their former lives, and gives them daily opportunities to experience new adventures. Car never disappoints.
Even though Car knows he is on his last legs, he doesn’t stop. He might complain a little more, be a little slower to react, a little slower to get places, need more time to rest. But he’s still always there. He’d never think to let the greyhounds down. Not in 120 degree heat, or zero degree cold.
Quite simply, we love Car.