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GREYHOUND PUPPY AUCTIONS – Part 1
HAROLD’S CROSS STADIUM, Representatives from Greyhound Action Scotland and Advocates for Animals travelled to First Impressions On arrival at the stadium car park, the first thing that struck me was the appearance of some of the men hanging about – let’s just say you wouldn’t want to meet them in a dark alley! Secondly, I noticed the vehicles parked there with small, metal trailers hitched to the back of them, used for transporting greyhounds. I thought this a pretty awful mode of transport for the dogs. It transpires that dogs have been known to die in these trailers from car exhaust fumes. Other greyhounds were in estate car boots, or in crates in the back of vans. David Normiles The lorry that David Normiles allegedly uses for transporting greyhounds to the Despite the combined ISPCA & RSPCA operation where he was stopped by the police recently, he is still transporting dogs to Cheap, small bitches are selected; small, so that they can get round the notoriously tight bends of the track at No notification of whom buys what is given after the greyhound sales. Quite frequently, the customs and officials at the ferry ports do not even know that Normiles has a load of dogs in the lorry (they think he’s going out empty), because the dogs are so heavily drugged prior to transport that they do not make a sound. The crowd Several men were standing about with their greyhounds. I was struck by the relatively small amount of people there; there couldn’t have been more than a hundred or so at the sales. The people were virtually all male – the few women there stood out. They seemed a mostly older age group (50+) of rough looking Irish men. There were some more smartly dressed men as well, and a few fathers there, who had taken sons along, as young as 5 years old. They were all there to buy and sell dogs. Apart from our Rescue contact, who blended in posing as a buying trainer and got chatting to a few people, nobody tried to speak to us, although being a group of women, we must have stood out like a sore thumb. One little old woman with a huge greyhound appeared. She said she was training him from someone who races at The Kennel Block We wandered into the kennel block (where the dogs are held before & after racing) to have a look. There were small, individual kennels (more the size of fairly small crates) solid metal cages, with small holes in the front door for ventilation. They reminded me of cloakroom lockers. Apparently these are good kennels by the standards of many racetracks. Before the Trials We bought a programme, which we would mark up during the trials, trying to identify which bitches may be sent to Of course, there were a few exceptions, but the majority of dogs were ‘glazed over’: numb, glassy eyed, quiet, detached, shut-off. Anyone who has an adopted greyhound will have seen this ‘numbness’ in their new dog for the first few weeks: well, this is exactly what they were like at the track too. The men paid no attention to the dogs at all, not even to check them over prior to the trials; they were completely ignored, no interaction or petting.
There was no interaction or acknowledgement between the various groups of dogs either; if they so much as look at each other on the track, they are disqualified for ‘fighting’. It was a bitterly cold day, but throughout the day, of the 100+ dogs that were there, I counted around 5 wearing kennel coats or jackets to keep them warm. The Trials The trials began – 106 greyhounds ran. For some reason, there were never more than 4 running in each trial and in a couple of trials toward the end of different distances, only 2 running against each other. The dogs get one trial each to prove their ability. One of the buyers remarked that Harold’s Cross was a bad track – tight bends – and if a dog can run here, it can run anywhere. Again, even as the dogs were led across the concourse and approached the traps, only a handful of them looked excited. Most just walked along with their owners like automatons. A few seemed reluctant to get into the trap and were pushed in. Once out of the traps, they all ran of course. There were so many dogs, but a few stand out in my memory. One near the beginning was very, very slow – she must’ve been about 20 lengths behind the other dogs all the way round the track. I feel worried about that dog and was looking out for her at the sale, but she had been withdrawn, due to running so badly I suppose. The other that I remember was a tiny black bitch. She was so small. She came in last. Several times, the dogs seemed to slip and almost fall at the first bend; eventually, one fell. The spectators gasped. He picked himself back up and continued running. They usually get up again & keep running, especially if only minor injuries, although even with broken limbs, they sometimes keep running, because they are concentrating so hard on the race. After the trial, the dog’s owner was checking him over for injuries. I do not know if there was any Vet in attendance at these trials. Certainly, no one else appeared at the trackside to look at the dog. A few other dogs seemed to run in an odd way; one not putting any pressure on a hind leg; one with a bent tail. Whilst we were watching the trials, we got chatting to two buyers sitting near us; a father and son, both Dubliners. The son had been coming to the sales since he was 5 years old and now owned several racing dogs, which he kept in a shed in his garden. He didn’t look more than 17 years old, but as our Rescue contact remarked: “Owning greyhounds is like owning socks over here”. The Auction The trials over, after a break for lunch, the auction began. There was an auction room in the stadium; a ring space where the dogs are led out individually by one of the two track handlers for ‘viewing’, whilst men seated on wooden benches or standing at the ringside bid on them. It was a horrible thing seeing the first few being sold like poor cows – but after the first few, my mind just shut off and became numb – until the terrified dogs came into the ring. The A small handful of the 106 dogs (about half a dozen maybe) appeared confident and happy; the vast majority were blank and dazed looking; several were terrified by this experience. One small brindle bitch, Bo, ‘freaked out’ when the steward went to check her ear tattoo. She reared up and twisted back, desperately trying to get away. She was extremely hand-shy; the only person in the entire place who seemed to show any kindness toward the dogs was one of the lead-outs, a young lad, who tried to reassure the frightened dogs with a pat on the head, but to little avail. Some of these scared dogs had to be virtually dragged into the ring, and were pulled into a kind of sitting position, since they did not want to budge.
The brindle bitch cowered and no one bid on her. Distressed by Bo’s fear, we tried to negotiate with the owner outside to purchase her, but he insisted on €150 and wouldn’t take less. We couldn’t pay that, but spoke again to the young lad whom we had met during the trials. He had wanted to bid on the dog but his father had stopped him. He then went and bought the brindle bitch privately from the owner and we were relieved that she, at least, would not go to Barcelona and was with one of the ‘better’ ones. Subsequently, she was sold again at On the greyhound database, her breeder is listed as Vinnie Jones. There was a series of dogs – two brindles and several black ones – which seemed very nervous in the ring: shaking, cowering, heads & tails right down. Some of these were bought, some not. With some of the unsold dogs (either because no-one bid or the reserve wasn’t met), deals are done ‘privately’ outside the auction room. Dogs and money change hands in the car park. The Condition of the Greyhounds All the dogs were fine weight-wise, but a lot had muzzling sores on their noses, bald patches and appeared depressed. Prices We bid on the dog that had fallen at his trial –the only bidder– but the reserve was not met by a €100 bid. We do not know what happened to him. The cheapest dogs went for around €150 and the most expensive €2200. The average price was around €300. Apparently, the dogs were much dearer than at previous Dublin sales that our contacts had attended, where many went for €50 in the sale room and as little as €10 in the car park. (The No wonder they are so disposable. The black greyhounds, currently an unfashionable colour amongst the racers, are referred to as ‘bin-liners’ – because they are black and so disposable. At one point, I overheard a conversation between a man and a very respectable looking middle aged lady seated behind us. The lady’s husband was selling one of their dogs, which had made €700. The man asked “Are you happy with that then?” She replied “Oh yes, very pleased”. I was struck by the complete business-like callousness of this whole thing: one feels she might have been a little upset if she had sold a family heirloom or favourite antique at auction, but there were no such feelings for a living, breathing, feeling dog. The Buyers We noted several Scottish buyers there. A group of three men had been sitting behind us on the outbound flight from Edinburgh and had come to the sales. They purchased five dogs for flapping that would be taken to Edinburgh by a transporter guy who only transports dogs to Scotland. The Eventually, the sale ended. Most of the buyers had left around two thirds of the way through and in hindsight, I wish some of us had stayed in the car park to see what was going on there. When we got to the car park, almost all the trailers and transporters had gone and all that was left were several Mercedes Benz luxury saloons. Conclusion – All I kept thinking about during the auction was the dogs – and imagining my own greyhounds being traded like this. We went back to the airport, feeling drained. At the time, it was not as distressing as I had expected it to be, but subsequently, the image of all those dogs kept going through my mind – wondering where they’ll end up, how they will be treated and what will happen to them next. I left the sales with a real sense of how there are just so many cheap dogs that are seen as ‘worthless’ by the racing community. Worthless because they are not of high monetary value and worthless because they are just racing machines to them, not dogs. At this sale, I really got no sense or impression of a great love for the dogs themselves that some talk of. It was plain to see the truth of the matter that we all knew before hand – that in A couple of days later, I was walking my greyhounds when a stranger approached me, asking first if they were ‘rescue’ dogs. When I replied yes, he patted one and explained to me that his son had a rescue greyhound. He remarked “It takes a long time to get any emotion out of them. It’s a shame really, isn’t it?” Through out the day at the auctions, looking into these poor hounds eyes, one poem written by a woman who has been to the greyhound auctions before kept coming to me. This is the poem:
YOU DON'T KNOW. Olga Ferguson Amanda Wells Greyhound Action
GREYHOUND PUPPY AUCTIONS - Part 2 In the meantime Under the guise as a potential greyhound racing dog owner, we kept in touch with one of the Irish racing people. It transpired that his business was to buy greyhounds cheaply in GOOD FRIDAY First Impressions On arrival at the stadium car park, it was cleaner and more professional looking than Harold’s Cross. It was different from
My ‘disguise’ was as someone who had become interested in greyhounds and was looking to buy one to run at Shawfield stadium. We met up almost immediately with our contacts who were selling on the greyhounds that had been bought at Harold’s Cross. We managed to obtain quite a bit of information about what goes on behind the scenes. The crowd Again this was completely different to The people present, like We were introduced to a guy called Willie who, like our Irish contact, came over from Trials The difference here was that at no time did we ever get close enough to the greyhounds to see the condition of them. The trials commenced with 52 greyhounds in the brochure. However we did hear that one of the greyhounds listed in the sales catalogue had died a few weeks previous at Longford track after it broke multiple bones. It was quite upsetting scoring that dogs name out from our catalogue Similar to
The Auction The trials over, after a break for lunch, the auction began. Unlike The first greyhound I was looking out for was our Bo. If need be I was prepared to bid for her. However as she had vastly improved, she was bid for and sold at £400. I was relieved. Although she will now enter racing, she is safe for the next year or so. My main fear was that she would be ‘disposed of’ if she wasn’t sold. In sterling, Bo had been bought at Our Irish seller had put word out that I was a new greyhound owner and was looking for a greyhound to race in We asked our Irish seller what happens to the greyhounds that don’t get sold. He said that if they had potential, they would be taken back with him and auctioned after some work had been put in to improve their performance. He didn’t answer what happened if they had no potential. However we did get back to that subject and he admitted that they would be destroyed, probably by shooting before they boarded the ferry. He told us that Willie would do the same. He claims that it costs 250 Euros to have a greyhound put to sleep in the South so it would simply been too expensive to take a ‘useless’ greyhound back. Prices The highest priced greyhound sold for about £3500 and the lowest about £130 with varying prices in between. Three guys sitting in front of us bid for and bought several of the higher priced hounds. The Two of the greyhounds that hadn’t met their reserve bids went back up for auction. Neither reached the price that they had previously been bid at and rejected. The sellers began to debate with the auctioneer who simply ended the sale. My own impression of that scenario was that the auctioneer was unhappy at their last ditch attempt to sell these greyhounds rather than take them back to The Kennel Block At the end, I managed to get inside the kennel block. When the individual kennel was opened it appeared that there was no lighting or natural light at all inside the kennel that measured about 3 foot by 4 foot. The kennel had ‘paper’ bedding for the hounds to lie in. Although I wasn’t expecting high quality kennelling, I did expect there to be some kind of lighting for the dogs although it does explain why one of my rescued racing dogs hates being in the dark. My Little ‘Purchase’ Willie came after me as we were walking to the van in the car park. He brought with him this little black greyhound bitch. He turned on the charm and again said to me £150. I bartered with him and managed to get him down to £100. To be honest I would have paid ten times that amount for her because I knew her alternative was certain death. I also managed to negotiate the collar and lead, as I didn’t have a spare one. I realise that I was potentially funding him to continue with his trade in greyhounds. But I would have found it impossible to walk away as most non-racing greyhound people would. He asked me back to the kennels to pick up her stud card that lists her races, age and all other relevant information. He said that I would need a ‘change of ownership’ form. As a ‘greyhound racing dog owner’ I said I did. He went off again and returned with a form, which was all folded up saying that he’d filled it in and signed it. Willie said to me that she’s a good little runner – yes it was a DOG he was referring to, NOT a car. He said if I sell her then make sure I got a good price for her. He also said she’d make a good brood bitch once she’d finished racing. I nodded and smiled at him thinking how much I would like to tell him what I was doing there and that this little bitch had run her last ever race and would be neutered by the end of the week. But I held my tongue, smiled sweetly and we drove away. We looked at the change of ownership form in the van – it was blank! I’m not really surprised that he did that but I wished I’d checked it before we’d left. I also looked at the stud card and discovered she wasn’t coming up 2 as was in the auction catalogue, but actually coming up for 3 and nearing the end of her career. Having been in a situation before similar to this I know that greyhound owners aren’t always honest with their paperwork. When I got her back to the hotel, she didn’t do much other than look frightened. I saw that she was dirty and there appeared to be flea dirt on her. She was very frightened and lay down against the wall. She seemed to be watching me all the time but she obviously didn’t trust me one bit. I phoned home and we came up with a name – Saorca that is Gaelic for ‘freedom’. It seemed appropriate! The next day I left Meanwhile my friend renamed her Brenna as the pronunciation of Saorca down there sounds like saucer! As it happens Brenna found a new home within only ten days in the North of Scotland! In contrast my friend has another bitch who has been there eight months. Some greyhounds find homes quickly, others take forever. Brenna was and is lucky – but what happens to the next one where there isn’t someone like me to take her away and someone like my friend who took her in and found her a forever home where she can be shown unconditional care? Conclusion - We followed through from the auctions at My one relief is that one of them has escaped from the awful world that is greyhound racing. I also recognise that these dogs are commodities and ‘worthless’. I do believe that it’s these people that miss out on what the real qualities of a greyhound are. I struggle with these dogs that have the fear or dead souls through their eyes. They have no reason to trust any human after the lives they have led which may not be physical abuse in a broad sense of the word, but neglecting a dog until it has no soul in her eyes is surely just as bad – isn’t it? Amanda Wells Greyhound Action For more information about the Irish Greyhound Puppy Auctions, please see the following links: http://www.ameurogreyhoundalliance.org/limerick.html http://www.ameurogreyhoundalliance.org/IrelandFeb.html http://www.ameurogreyhoundalliance.org/IrelandJune.html
Lizzie’s Story
In 2000, by chance, I came across a young Greyhound bitch. She was in a sorry state, very thin, depressed, and quite defensive. She was being kept in a dark shed with no bedding or access to water.
After negotiations, she came home with us to join our other two Greys and luckily seemed to get on with them. Her background was awful. She had been a very successful racing dog and had been sold to a man who regularly beat her for no reason other than he just felt like it. I was told that he would beat her unconscious with a metal food bowl for spilling her food. I did not blame her for all the behavioural problems she had. She was a very difficult dog to bond with, due to her previous abuse.
However, she did bond instantly with my partner, Gordon, and to this day is a real Daddy’s girl through and through and they adore each other. Her anxiety manifested itself in two ways. She would soil in the house constantly, despite regular toilet trips and walks. She was also incredibly destructive. In the space of two years, she cost us thousands of pounds to repair the ‘Lizzie damage’. She successfully ate and dug her way through a door, skirting boards, floorboards, and an enormous hole in a plaster wall. She also destroyed many pieces of furniture, including a very expensive, heavy pine bed frame. However, that did not matter; she could not help it. Lizzie eventually overcame her problems and was eventually toilet trained by 2003. She stopped destroying things and slowly mellowed, becoming a very sweet, happy, confident dog who we absolutely adore. She became the ‘mother’ of the pack and keeps Colin the lurcher, Blue Bob the Grey, and Daniel the Galgo in check. It still touches me to see her gazing adoringly at Gordon and she likes to keep him clean, lying on top of him and giving him a good ‘lick wash’. Wherever he goes, she follows and Gordon still calls her his ‘sweet pea’. They truly have an unbreakable bond. Unfortunately, last year we nearly lost our darling girl. In June 2005, Lizzie was playing in the garden with one of our other dogs, our Lurcher, Colin. There was an ear-splitting scream, a sound that we never want to hear again in our lives. Lizzie was standing shaking, holding one leg up and could not walk. After a few minutes, she seemed better but we took her to the Vet’s anyway.
Lizzie was initially diagnosed with a soft tissue injury and it was thought to be due to an old racing injury in her shoulder. Painkillers and rest were prescribed but she did not get any better. Numerous trips to the Vet later, she was still pretty much the same and we all thought we were getting nowhere. X-rays showed nothing so we were stumped. Meanwhile, our Vet’s bill was mounting at a very alarming rate.
Our Vet decided to refer us to an Orthopaedic Specialist, one of the leading Orthopaedic Vets in the country, to see if he could find out what was wrong. We knew it was going to be very expensive, but she was worth it. On examination, he found the problem to be coming from her neck. He thought it could be a tumour on her spine, or a slipped disc. She was immediately admitted for tests that evening. She had extensive x-rays, a spinal tap and a myelogram. Results showed that it was 2 slipped discs in her neck and that she would require surgery to take them out. We were prepared to pay anything to help her so we went ahead with it. The Vet expected her to have a 90% improvement following surgery and that she should improve very quickly. He also warned us that 5% of dogs do not respond well to the operation but he was positive that Lizzie would be great afterwards.
Within 2 days of her being discharged after the operation, Lizzie started to deteriorate. She was in agony and was screaming and yelping and she couldn’t get comfortable at all. She was also exhausted. We got very strong painkillers from our own Vet but they didn’t seem to make much difference.
One morning it seemed that Lizzie had given up completely. The poor wee soul was exhausted and in so much pain. She would not eat and we were struggling to syringe feed her water. Our Vet went out of her way to make a home visit as poor Lizzie could barely move. She was given an injection of very strong painkillers and some more tablets for later on that evening. We are extremely lucky to have such a wonderful Vet who knows our dogs and us very well indeed. We shared a look that meant the end was near for our poor wee dog. If she did not improve over the next few hours, she was to be admitted to the Veterinary Hospital to get her pain under control. She got worse and was admitted shortly afterwards. We were all sure she wouldn’t come home again and were devastated. Our Vet, and a Nurse, stayed up all night at the hospital with Lizzie, as they were so concerned.
Unbelievably, against all odds, Lizzie slowly started to respond to the treatment and 2 days later, an extremely happy, ‘waggy’ dog greeted us! Thanks to our wonderful Vet, Lizzie came home and slowly made progress. Within a week, Lizzie was leaping around the kitchen like an idiot and is now back to normal. She has made a wonderful recovery and darts about like 2 year old, despite her being eight this year! Now the painful bit… The investigations at the Orthopaedic Specialist came to almost £800.
The operation cost over £1000.
Consultations, investigations, treatments, drugs, home visits, and hospitalisation at our own Vet came to over £3000. Her treatment is ongoing so that will steadily increase. One year on and the total has almost reached £7000. Our insurance only contributed £500. We were lucky to be in a position to pay for this, as the alternative was to have her put to sleep, which was unthinkable, especially as the problem could be fixed. Gordon still says he would pay it ten times over to see his girl back to normal. She is worth every single penny. Needless to say, we changed insurance companies for all of our dogs and made sure that they all have the best cover available.
Who knows what is around the corner?
The Irish Two Animal Welfare? The Irish Saga…
I booked a cottage on the About two weeks before we went, Bernie from Dog Rescue Ireland in Dublin forwarded an email from a racing greyhound owner in Belfast asking her to take his greyhound because the dog kept injuring himself on the track and that it was not ‘economic sense’ to keep him. He said that although he really didn’t want to have the dog destroyed, he would have to unless she took him. Bernie, in her usual position, is jam packed full of these ‘disposable dogs’ so wasn’t in a position to take him on. I was going via A few days before we left for Through the week Dave called me a few times. Firstly he had come across a greyhound bitch that was due to be destroyed through a woman he knew in the North. I agreed to bring the bitch back with me too. He then got a plea from help from Bernie. A man had called her and told her that he was going to prison on the Thursday and if she didn’t take his greyhound, he would cut its ears off and abandon it. Bernie was understandably quite upset. However as we knew we had to get the greyhound away from his owner and its always risky to put two male greyhounds together, we had to turn her down. Meanwhile we confirmed that I would also pick up the bitch from the North after I picked up the dog from the trainer. Bernie managed to fit in the other male to her already overcrowded place. However Bernie finds it quite difficult to rehome greyhounds in On return from The man spoke all the time to me about how fast the dogs race and how good his dogs were. He also told me that Tullyglen Buoy was good but he didn’t take the bends at the track very well and often came away injured. He said he was a ‘dud one’. He said he wouldn’t ever dream of putting him to sleep, but knew his racing days were over. I kept my mouth closed thinking that I’d seen the email of what his intent was. He took me into his house and showed me all the trophies his dogs had won. He had framed photos of his dogs winning races all over the place. Particular pride of place went to photos of a dog that had won the Ulster Cup. He kept telling what a good racer Tullyglen was and how he could win a race tonight if he wanted. His children and baby granddaughter was there as was the family Jack Russell who was extremely overweight and extremely spoiled. I spoke to the wife and she admitted to me that often you hear people at the track saying that there dog is retiring. You apparently never see the dog again and never ask where its gone because you know its either been killed and buried or taken to the vet. They spoke about one of their greyhounds that had bone cancer. This brought me to ask about the bone cancer that is predominant in some breeding lines of greyhounds. They told me that everyone knows that this was because the dog that was bred from – something ‘Manx’ was injected full of ‘dope’. I asked them if they were sure of this – they said ‘Oh yes – everyone knows that!’ They told me that the descendants of this dog get bone cancer at very young ages and mostly are put to sleep before it progresses. They also believe that we don’t know the scale of the problem because the dogs are destroyed and there are no questions asked. One of the daughters had been speaking to my children and asked me if it was true that I kept THREE greyhounds as pets and that they slept in my bed. I said yes. She looked at me like I had just admitted to eating my goldfish. The couple went on to admit that they were breeding from an eight-year-old bitch. Its unclear whether she is Tullyglen’ s mother, but they did proudly tell me that Tullyglen was bred and born on the 4th May 2000 in that very back yard. They also admitted that Tullyglen was being replaced almost immediately. Tullyglen’s sister was nowhere to be seen but they did admit that up until a few weeks ago there were six dogs there. I have no idea where any of the others went. The man produced four stamped vaccination cards and told me to pick one because they were all the same. The only part of the card that was completed was the details of vaccinations received – even the breed part was blank. The owner told me that Tullyglen had been wormed and had ‘Frontline’ flea treatment the week before. They told me Tullyglen’ s pet name was ‘Whitey’. But he didn’t respond to that name at all. We have since settled on Tully as he suits that better. As we were leaving the woman pushed £20 into my hand. The man helped me get Tully into the boot (I have a hatchback!). As he shut the boot, I looked as his expression change as he saw the sticker – A Greyhound Is For Life – Not Just For Racing’. Meanwhile the woman from the shelter in the North called me. I was way behind time and it was agreed that a man would drive down to the ferry terminal and meet me there. I met the man and he looked relieved to see me. He opened the back door of the van and I caught sight of probably the prettiest greyhound I have ever seen. She was small, white & fawn and had this ‘air’ about her. She was gorgeous! We were passed our check-in time by now so I only had a few minutes to get all I could from the man about her. She didn’t have a collar – just a rope lead. They had just had her neutered and vaccinated and he gave me her details and paperwork. She didn’t have a name and she wasn’t good getting into cars. She had been picked up as a stray and taken to the pound. Because there is no hope of getting a home for a greyhound in We drove into the ferry terminal. Tully was very unsettled – panting and really over-excited so we stepped out the car with them. Tully wouldn’t drink water no matter how we tried. The bitch didn’t seem to care about him. She paid no attention to anything really. The children decided we’d call her ‘Claddagh’. We had been to the Claddagh part of Unfortunately we had to leave the dogs downstairs as no dogs are allowed on deck on the fast ferry – we couldn’t get the slow one because I get very sick on it. I worried the whole journey. When we did get back to the car, Tully was in an awful state. He was panting hard, howling and barking. Claddagh was curled up asleep. The kittens were fine. We stopped at Stranraer where I gave Tully the last of the water and gave him a little walk. He was so uptight and excited. His panting did not get any easier. We drove up to Girvan where I bought another bottle of water. We then took both of them a long walk on the beach. The beach amazed Claddagh – she kept stopping to look out to sea. It was like she’d never seen the sea before. I noticed she was also quite jumpy when she saw passing cars. I think she came from a rural place. We stopped again but Tully didn’t stop panting nor did he seem to calm down any. We arrived home and got out the car. Tully cocked his leg and was urinating blood. I was so worried and called Dave. Dave said he didn’t know what was up, but it sounded like something soldiers used to get after marching for too long. We decided that the best course of action was for me to call my vet. I phoned the emergency vet and told her what had happened. She advised me that this was actually not blood but muscle wastage passing through his kidneys. She said this is common in greyhounds when they get over excited and often happens when they overdo racing. She advised that I keep Tully as cool and calm as possible and make him drink lots to wash it through. She advised me that if he were still the same the next morning to get him in to the vets, as he would need to go on a drip. I advised her that he was to travel south in the morning. She advised me strongly against this saying that he must not travel until at least Tuesday. It was settled – they were staying here until Tully got better. The first night I shut them in my living room when I finally went to bed at On the Tuesday we took both to the vet. The vet was not happy with Tully’s urine sample and advised he should be taken back on Friday before the second attempt at taking him to Claddagh was given a clean bill of health and had her stitches from being neutered removed. She is underweight but the vet believes that both dogs ill be fine when they receive some TLC. Tully returned to the vet on Friday and although he has protein in his urine still, he is healthy enough to be booked in to be neutered next week. This might just stop him from cocking his leg everywhere and calm him down! Both dogs are finding things like the washing machine, stairs, the hoover, cars a little odd. However both have now settled in well and have met my three and the cat. My cat hates dogs and has ‘sorted’ them – they’ve not attempted to chase her after she thumped them. My Kyle has been quite awkward with Tully and Claddagh barks at all of them if they wake her up by moving around, but both of them seem a lot happier and settled. They are both very attached to us already and so affectionate and trusting. I worry about Claddagh though – she is very quiet– if only they could talk and tell you what has happened in their short lives. But then I think it’s just as well we don’t know… Meanwhile Dave has given the kennel he had waiting to another emergency case after I agreed to keep Claddagh and Tully for a further fortnight. I hope I will be strong enough to hand them over when the time comes. The same shelter Claddagh came from has contacted me again about another bitch in similar circumstances. However after finding a foster home for her, she was reclaimed by her owner. Sadly I have a feeling that she wasn’t wanted back because she was someone’s loving pet. We are waiting to hear about another greyhound Bernie has. She’s had four phone calls in the last week asking for homes for dogs in I have barely slept since I came home. I can’t stop wishing that I’d taken a van and collected the dogs at the cottage in Galway and there has been several times where I have talked myself out of going back to get them. And if we did? The owners would just get themselves others. I have been thinking hard about what we can do for the Irish greyhounds. What can we do? Save a few? Help ease the burden from the likes of Bernie and others who do all they can? There is something seriously wrong. My sensible head – and my friends and family tell me that I can’t save them all. However my heart says I must try and help the dogs. People tell me the campaign is more important because we need to stop the cause rather than just try and block the leaking tap of greyhounds. I know this and feel stronger about things than I ever have before. The saddest thing is that there will be 15000 Tully’s and Claddagh’s this year. This will be in
UPDATE>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
In October 2007, Tully's former owner was fined for administering cocaine to his greyhounds:
http://www.breakingnews.ie/ireland/mhmhkfeyaugb/rss2/
Greyhound owners caught drugging dogs
09/10/2007 - 16:59:34
My Trip To The Greyhound Race Track, by F.J. aged 11.
My Mum, sister and I went to
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