In amongst Dad's kennel, I have three greyhounds that are mine. Two (a brother & sister from a litter born last year) are up and coming dogs. They are learning the ropes, and have yet to be marked up (where their tags and microchips are checked against their puppy papers, to make sure the dog you present at races is the dog that you have nominated, and not a ring-in).
The other dog is the son of one of Dad's best greys. He's a lovely little boy, but no one told him that while he is a dog, he's also a greyhound! We took him and one of the other pups to the local track last night for trials, so that my dog could show the pup the ropes, having trialled (and raced) at this track before.
The pup was terrribly eager. It was all new to him. He got to smell other greys bums (their way of saying hello), he got patted and adored by various Catchers and Handlers (called Attendants, these days), and Trainers. He got marked up. And he got put into the kennel block with a bunch of greys making a great deal of noise.
Then, when the time was right, he and my boy were taken out of their kennels, and brought around to the catching pen to be slipped from there (this is where, instead of putting the dogs in the starting boxes, you hold onto them, and when the lure goes past, you let go of their collars, and they chase the lure from there). That way they go around the track and back into the catching pen, from where they started.
The pup loved every single second of it. He was alert and keen and absolutely bouncing.
My boy? His night was somewhat different.
When we got the dogs from our kennels to put them in the car for the ride to the track, my boy was bouncing and keen as mustard, very happy to go in the car, because the car means a ride to the local trial track (not where we went last night).
When we got to the race track, I took him out of the car, and walked him around the emptying out yard. I then had to go back to the car to get the papers for the pup, and my boy tried to climb back into the car to go home.
Then we walked them into the kennel block. Put him in his kennel, with many promises of "it won't be for long, mate".
Soon, I had to go get him to take him to his slip. He hates this track. Finds it very terrifying. His one and only race was at this track, and he just doesn't like it. The other local track that we have, he has no issue with. It's a big open track in the city and he's quite happy to go around it, say hello to the other dogs, go into the wash pen afterwards. But our local track? Nope. He shakes at the sheer sight of it.
That said, he's more than happy to race after the lure either by himself or with another dog he knows. He likes that side of being a grey. He can chase things and not get into trouble for it, because that's what he's bred to do. But put a racing coat on him, stick him in a starting box with seven other dogs, and he will trail as far behind them as he can, so that he doesn't have go to near them, because they are dogs he doesn't know.
Not good if you are supposed to be a racing dog!
At the slip last night, the pup came bounding into the catching pen after the race, keen as anything just to have another go. My dog.....spotted me, came running up, skidded to a halt next to me, and then nudged me to have his lead put back on him so he could go home.
Poor little bugger. :-)
I guess he really is just a pet these days, though happy to take the pups through their paces at the local trial track, not so happy to set paw on a proper track.
My dog has a place for life though, as he is the son of Dad's favourite racer (who is 10 years old, and still with us in the kennels, still lording it over everyone else!), and because he is my favourite, and the reason I go into the kennels every single day.
He loves his life, really. And if I didn't have my spotty dog, he'd be the one taking up residence in the dog bed in my lounge!
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