If you can't learn to do it well, learn to enjoy doing it badly.

Our fun today was going to the annual picnic for everyone who has adopted a Greyhound through the local race track. Pam took a couple of hours off in the middle of her day so she could go, and we agreed on the way home it was a lot of fun.

Shortly after we got there Al got a pedicure. Greyhounds have very thick, tough nails so having experts trim them is nice. (click to enlarge any of these pics. I kept them small to fit them on this page)
The guy in the blue shirt in these two pedicure pictures turns out to be the owner of Arvada Kennels, and Al was one of his racing dogs. He recognized Al right away and gave us some interesting background on him. Al was the standout in his litter, both in terms of performance and temperament.
Greyhounds come in 16 officially recognized colors. The upper right dog in this picture is a brindle, the one in back is a fawn, and the dog in the foreground is a white/brindle combo. Many of the owners there have two or more Greyhounds. It's easy to understand why once you have one. They really are an ideal dog for a pet.
There weren't as many vendors as I expected. People will buy some pretty silly stuff for their dogs.
We saw a few dogs there that looked remarkably like Al. No way to tell if they were litter mates, or perhaps from the same line, sire/bitch. But Al was among the biggest dogs there.

This guy has three, two fawns and a brindle. Enlarge this pic to get a good look at the all-white female in the upper left corner.
The "Blur of Fur" run didn't take place on the track as I thought. They had a narrow lane on the grass back by the paddock formed by that 4' tall orange square-grid flexible "fence" you may have seen at construction sites or at highway construction zones. The lane was about 35' long and dogs ran the lane one at a time. They held the dog at the near end of the lane until the owner and staff at the other end were ready. One gal at the "finish line" had a loud squeak toy and she'd start squeezing it as the owner called for his/her dog. In each case you could see the dogs strain until they were released and sprinted down the lane. Also at the "finish line" were two guys, one who took a picture of the dog running and the other with a speed gun.

When it was Al's turn he took off like a shot! And the three of them were clearly surprised when the guy with the gun called out his speed - 38 mph! He was the fastest of all the dogs to run at that point, and by a considerable margin. Heh, heh. That's my dog!

My biggest surprise came from Pam. They had an enclosed area with about 20 dogs available for adoption. Guess who wanted a second Greyhound. And can you believe that I talked her out of it?! If we had a bigger house and/or a fenced yard I'd eagerly take another.

Al is exhausted from all the excitement. He literally trembled for the first half hour we were there because of all the dogs to meet and greet. Apparently it's hard work sniffing all those butts.

Like all rookie preachers I thought I could change lives forever with a single sermon. Any one of my sermons was that good. It didn't take very many months for me to dump that piece of naivete. Not only were my sermons not that good, it doesn't work like that. A single workout doesn't turn someone into an Olympic athlete. It's the incremental effect of months, years of the preaching of God's Word (and the Spirit's gracious application of the preacher's humble efforts).

That said, every once in awhile the preacher hopes that a particular sermon will make a measurable change, either in individual lives or in the life of the church. Tomorrow is one of those occasions.

The check is in the mail. I'm officially entered in the Thanksgiving Day Triathlon. Sometimes I am my own worst enemy.
Often.