Stuart,
Thanks so much for your nice comments.
There's even more to the story. We were now up to three dogs - Banjo, Truffles, and an Afghan Hound named Pooch. One day I came home from work to find this note: "Madame Bovary has been walked, but please feed her." Madame Bovary was a Borzoi and, I assumed correctly, another dog Gord had been visiting at the pet store.
But I made a decision. Three was enough - for the other dogs' sake, and for mine. I tried not to warm up to Madame B., and the next day at work I let it be known that we had a dog for sale. Gord had paid a walloping $300 for her (this was thirty years ago). He just couldn't bare to see this long-legged dog languish in a pet store without proper exercise. Fortunately, there was a pretentious salesman at the firm where I worked. I played up the snob appeal of owning a Borzoi, we negotiated for $150, and I gladly took a loss. I received regular updates on Madame Bovary, renamed Sasha, who seemed to enjoy her new home.