dogcents

This is a question I always think about! I think it is such an un-feeling person who uses a dog such as a greyhound and uses him for profits until he no longer can run and win races at the dog track, then he is cast aside like an old shoe no longer of interest or of use. If such a wonderful dog made me money and helped me to buy the things I wanted and could not have until he won races. I would make sure that once he could no longer win or run tht he would be retired into a pet and be given a wonderful home and yard where he could run free and be happy. Where he could become a loving pet and be loved and taken good care of for the rest of his life. It is only right such a great dog be taken care of the remaing days of his life after he gave all he had to give and put his heart into winning for you so that you could live a comfortable life style. It is only right that you reward him when the time comes and he can lo longer race… I ran across this article while surfing the web and it expresses what I mean… Its an interesting article and I hope you all will read it and open your hearts to these great dogs the Greyhounds………..

I worked in kennels from the day I was old enough to leave school. I’ve been lucky enough to travel to different countries, see other kennels in action, see lots and lots of dogs from lots and lots of different backgrounds and disciplines. From top level competition dogs to ‘ordinary’ - but much loved - pets.

I have never met an unpleasant Greyhound.

I’ll qualify this. I feel I need to.

I reckon, on a conservative estimate, I’ve personally met about 10,000 dogs. Working in a commercial dog training kennel and a boarding kennel and, for a short period, being resident at a quarantine kennel, I think I’ve met at least 10,000. Easily.

The vast majority of dogs I’ve encountered I have enjoyed. But I won’t lie, some of the dogs - particularly dogs who have come from owners who haven’t installed any kind of discipline or manners in their pets - have left a less than favourable impression on me.

The first Shih-tzu I ever met tried to pull the tendons out of my arm. All I did was pick her water bowl up to clean it. Fortunately I’ve met some real gems from this breed since then.

The very first dog that ever properly scared the pants off me was a Doberman x GSD. His name was Scooby. He barked in a fashion that lead me to believe he was a maniac and wanted to eat me. He was a big chap too. Big and loud and scary and, it seemed, a little unhinged. I was only young and very wet behind the ears and I was astonished that my boss thought it would be ok for me to take Scooby out for a walk. “He’ll kill me”, I whimpered. “No he won’t. He’s just got a cob on when he’s behind bars”, was the unreassuring attempt at reassurance my boss offered. For those not from the North, a ‘cob on’ means he’s moody when in kennels.

I duly approached Scooby’s kennel. He duly threatened to tear my heart out and cast me in to a lake of fire should I dare to keep heading toward him. I braved it, opened the door and slipped a lead round his neck, gritted my teeth and hoped that if my demise was to be at the jaws of this brute, at least make it quick and as bloodless as possible.

As it turned out, Scooby was a real charmer the second his paws found their way out of his kennel. He was actually a fun loving dog who had a real sense of humour. I liked him. I really, really liked him because he gave me one of my first lessons about dogs in general. Not that I hadn’t already had the ‘books should not be judged by their covers’ lesson when I was 5-years old, but here it was again, the canine embodiment of that oh so very glib phrase.

I was sad when Scooby’s owners came to collect him for we had become friends. Every morning when I’d turn up for work, Scooby would shout through his kennel door at me, using canine language which I can only assume would make his mother and father blush. Boy, he was rude. He really did have a cob on about being behind bars. He’d keep the shouting game up right until the point where I’d let him out, at which point he’d instantly turn in to a Care Bear - all sweetness and light.

Where am I going with all this?

Ah yes. Dogs. Books and covers.

The Greyhound. I’ve met loads of them. Lots and lots. In fact next to Springers, Cockers and Labradors I’ve met more Greyhounds than any other breed. And unlike even the three gundog breeds I just mentioned, hand on heart here, I’ve never met one that wasn’t nice to me.

Big deal? You might think. So what? Hardly the world’s greatest endorsement is it?

Well no. But it’s an endorsement all the same. An endorsement that I wanted to air.

You see anyone who’s ever worked in kennels and around lots and lots of other people’s dogs in an environment that is alien to them will probably testify to the fact that other folks dogs can have a habit of being - shall we say - ‘distant’. But Greyhounds never were. They were always incredibly friendly and giving of themselves.

Very often they’d sit at the back of their kennel space, cowering. Laying in their bed peaking over the side and generally making themselves ill with worry. They seemed timid. And it was my experience that timid or nervous dogs were the ones most prone to launching themselves at me in a frenzy of teeth and claws (except for that Shih-tzu, she wasn’t timid, just a bitch.). Not Greyhounds though, I’d go in to their space and have a chat with them and they’d get up, check me out and make friends pretty fast. I’d take them out for a walk and they’d be thrilled for the company and conversation. I developed such a fondness for them for, as I have said, I never, ever met one that wasn’t nice to me - every last one. In fact there’s only one other breed I can say that about and somewhat ironically it’s a breed that has similar problems to the Greyhound, The Staffordshire Bull Terrier - the other breed that is literally elbow to elbow with far, far too many of it’s own type in British rescue shelters.

So I want to know, why is it that Greyhounds seem to have earned this image as second class canine citizens?

It’s just something that stands out to me. They get abandoned in their thousands and they have been terribly shortchanged by the industry that profits from racing them. What did they do to ‘deserve’ this?

Not that it means anything, but I’d just like to give the Greyhound my ringing endorsement and hope that anyone who’s in the process of thinking about getting a dog might consider a Greyhound. Personally, I’ve never met one that I didn’t like. A 100% record.

Author Details
Ryan O’Meara is editor-in-chief of K9 Magazine

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