A greyhound is a writer's dog. A cat-like dog. She lies beside the writing desk,
sometimes twitching in her dreams, sometimes emerging from a dream staring at you, blinking, like someone who just
reluctantly finished a brilliant novel, occasionally nosing her head beneath the palms for intensive petting.
She has four white socks (which makes two-white-socked dogs jealous) and
a dipped-in-white-paint tail, tattooed ears, is always good-natured, never barks, sleeps 17 hours a day, loves
everyone and never bothers anyone. Molly the Greyhound. She also handles being on stage like a professional.
The perfect writer's dog.