The Arizona Adopt A Greyhound volunteers are, quite literally, what makes the world go around. And we are so fortunate to have in Arizona the very BEST volunteers anywhere — not that we are at all biased!
And we are always on the lookout for more dedicated folks to help out. We always need foster homes; people with their greyhounds to do PR work at the track, at PetsMart and at other events; willing hands at the Annual Picnic or Alumni Night; or any number of "behind the scenes" jobs — or perhaps you have a particular talent that would really help our cause.

Each year AAGI's staff is pleased to honor our volunteers at our Annual Volunteer Brunch & Orientation.

For more information, or to volunteer, contact sharon@arizonaadoptagreyhound.org

This Web Site
The AAGI web site is a volunteer project of Kat House Graphix, which is owned and operated by Kari Morrison Young of the AAGI staff.

My gentle heart-dog Archie (shown with Sissy who crossed the bridge in December 2000) opened the world of greyhound adoption for me and I have never looked back. This site is dedicated to them, and Archie's sisters Tara & Tart (at the bridge) and brother, Snidely..

The words in the following verse best sum up my feelings about greyhounds:
More than a dog, sometimes more than human.
Slender, tall, elegant, narrow head with soft eyes
The gesture of the paw, the arc to your hand.
Soft, velvet coat - - leaning.

Just the head on the arm of your chair or the edge of the sofa,
"I love you" say the eyes -- soft, lustrous, alive eyes.
Intelligent eyes.

They turn hard, keen, far-sighted, alien.
Muscles bunch and tremble on the lean frame.
He quivers like a drawn bow, sighting his prey -- a whine.
I don't know him.
He is no longer my pet, my companion, as strong legs pull the ground toward him.
Lean, powerful body stretches out,
the muscled loin, a tremendous sprint and the great thigh muscles launch again.
He is primitive then, atavistic,
His heritage takes him, and I am in awe.
Hunter, beast of prey, tool of man.

He returns, panting and leans.
I touch him and the eyes smile at me.
The sides heave for air and the eyes say, "I love you."

by Deborah C. Littleton
from Gazehound, 1977