We never really talked about this, Julie and I. It's not like we planned to be a dog family, it just ended up that way. It may sound selfish, it may sound the opposite of that, but we finally eventually ended up with so many dogs there didn't seem to be room for any other species of young critter.

Our first were Zola and Grete (right). We saw them as six-week- old puppies in a litter of about a dozen. I wanted the brown one; Julie wanted the tri-colored one. But we had to put it on hold until we got back from the Ironman, for which we were leaving the very next day. When we got back we asked which of the dozen were left, and the answer? Only two were left. The two that we each wanted, as it turned out. So we got them both.

Then we found out about racing greyhounds, and that they needed homes after their careers were over. Otherwise we won't talk about that. We've adopted six all told. We lost our first two and have our remaining ones: Bo and Cruz, who we got seven years ago; Moondoggie, only three when we got him, seven now; and Fatuma (these two at left). My wife and I are sitting here laughing at the computer screen wondering what you can say about this one. She's only 42 pounds, about half the weight of the other three boys. But she's VERY active, too smart for her, and our, own good, and of questionable parentage. Everybody's best guess is half coyote, half greyhound or whippet. But (my wife makes me add) she's very sweet.

I walk the older boys two miles every morning on the trails behind our home. Julie runs the younger ones. Fatuma spends the entire time sprinting top speed between the two groups. We have to bring a couple of water bottles on the run so they all get enough to drink (esp. the little one). They are all expert drinkers (the first order of business when you take up residence at the Empfield's).

This sort of grab-ass is common around our house, especially with the Moondoggie (he's the black and white dog) and Fatuma, who is half Moonie's weight but three times as determined, so she always wins the tug-of-war. These two were "problem dogs," and we were asked to foster them for Greyhound Adoption Center (we do that occasionally, it helps non-socialized dogs get used to family life). Long story short, several months and no adoptive home later, we got them by eminant domain or something.

They are no longer what one would consider a huge "problem," but they are more work than the other four dogs combined. Fatuma for Roba of the same name.

We were six (not counting mom and dad). Then we lost Grete (right) who was Julie's running partner and the leader of the pack. She succombed to cancer in April, 2001.

We've got the old boys, Bo (black, 11yrs), and Cruz (brindle, 12yrs). Cruz for Joaquim of the same name. Cruz is the "policeman"--he stands over any dog that is having too much fun and barks continuously until the roughhousing stops. Bo did his racing in Mexico, at the Caliente track in Tijuana, and was glad to get out of there. Now he spends his day hanging out in what used to be the good expensive chair for company. Below, Bo has a warm place in his heart for Zola, and vice versa.

Grete was for Waitz, and her remaining twin siter Zola (for Budd) is below, and is being used as a pillow by Bo.