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The eyes that the aliens gave me

March 11th 2010 09:46

I have laser eyes. They were implanted by aliens when they dognapped me for two weeks last year. They lured me into their spaceship with chocolate-coated beef spare ribs.

After giving me my laser eyes they brought me home, but somehow no time had passed on Earth and no-one knew I had been gone.

The aliens didn't leave any chocolate-coated spare ribs.

The laser eyes allow me to see through brick walls, read the thoughts of poodles and throw rottweilers across the other side of a street just by blinking.

What? Yes, I know, I've been watching too much TV.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound

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Another racer, another bullet

March 11th 2010 05:41

Old mate Paul Hassing has just posted a comment on Twitter about the news that a horse in the racing stable of leading Australian trainer David Hayes had to be put down today due to injuries suffered during trackwork last weekend.

Our Aqaleem suffered a suspected fractured shoulder on Saturday in his final hit-out before next weekend's Australia Cup, a Group 1 race for which Our Aqaleem was one of the more fancied starters.

The loss comes one day after the same stable lost another horse, Changingoftheguard, which died of a ruptured bowel during a routine gelding operation.

Hassing's comment was this: 1. Raise horse. 2. Castrate. 3. Race. 4. Injure. 5. Kill. What fun!

What fun indeed. And just remember that horse trainers are, relatively, the good guys. When it comes to greyhound racing, many trainers don't need No. 4 to kill them.

For more on that, and the man in the picture above, go here.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Animal cruelty, Greyhound

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Scratchy's diary: dozy Little Boss

March 6th 2010 23:13

Every evening, as the city settles, as dinner digests, as we attend to domestic duties such as cleaning paws and finding nooks and crannies to lick and lick again — every night as these things unfold, Little Boss goes to sleep on the sofa.

Absolutely no stamina, that hooman.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Dog Diaries, Scratchy

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1. Little Boss's version of a deep-night mystery

February 19th 2010 11:13

It was 4.15am and not a creature was stirring all through the house. Except Daisy, who was in the back-yard conservatory waking the neighbourhood with a shrill barking which was almost hysterical.

About two months after our new neighbours moved in, they were surprised to see us come back from a walk one day with the dogs. "We didn't know you even had dogs," they said. "They are very quiet. We have never heard them bark."

They have now.

It was 4.15am and my husband and I had been woken from a dead sleep. We rushed out of the bedroom, through the house and into the back yard, alarmed by the most un-Daisy-like racket and distinctly worried about what could be causing it.

When we arrived, somewhat breathlessly, in the conservatory, we found Daisy and Scratchy standing quietly in the moonlight looking at us with a bemused expression.

"It's the middle of the night," they seemed to be saying. "What are you two doing out here?"

Scratchy seemed to have something caught in his throat for he was coughing, but it was a slight and intermittent cough, little different from the one he has every evening after eating his dinner, as is his habit, without chewing. Apart from that, there was not the slightest sign of anything else amiss. No burglars; no mice, rats, possums or birds, dead or otherwise; no fallen trees or burst water mains. Not even a ghost.

All was quiet and peaceful, with the loudest sound being that of a dozen neighbours sighing through pursed lips and fluffing their pillows as they prepared to return to sleep.

Over the next day or two we came up with a few theories as to what it might have been, with a particularly imaginative effort by my husband, involving a giant rat, but nothing really convinced me.

I think this will remain forever a mystery.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound

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2. Daisy's version of a deep-night adventure

February 19th 2010 11:13

I heard something in the middle of the night. Big Brindle didn't hear it, but then he has trouble hearing anything when he's asleep because his stomach is making so much noise trying to digest the dinner he always refuses to chew.

I heard something, or perhaps I just sensed something, and I went outside to investigate.

I am not a scaredy-dog, but I admit that, as I stepped off the back porch onto the paved area, as I scanned the yard through a soft, new-moon light, as I sniffed a gentle southerly breeze and analysed the vibrations of the plants and insects, I felt uneasy.

Something was out there.

And it was not friendly.

Most books about greyhounds will tell you that, as part of the sighthound group of dogs, our senses are acute. Most books about greyhounds also tell you that our breed is about 3,000 years old.

Rubbish. A greyhound's senses are supremely acute, and that is because we are first cousins to salukis, a dog breed which has been around for about 8,000 years and was possibly the first dog breed distinct from wolves.

That's how I knew, as I stood in the dark yard with all senses on full alert, that there was a giant rat in the far corner of the conservatory.

I am not a scaredy-dog and a rat, giant or otherwise, poses a threat to home territory. I mean, they breed. Greyhounds and rats are not compatible. I ran towards the rat, and in doing so I barked as loudly and quickly as I could for Big Brindle to come and help.

I saw the rat, and he was a giant indeed. You must believe me in this. I stopped. I barked. I considered becoming a scaredy-dog.

Rarely have I seen such a rat. Like something out of a James Cameron movie. It had size of body and teeth. It had attitude. It was, in the new-moon light, a vision of evil intent.

I barked and advanced. It hissed and retreated. I barked, and barked, and barked. And it found itself trapped in the furthest corner of the conservatory.

I barked and it bared its teeth. This giant, ferocious rodent was clearly ready to challenge me.

That's when Scratchy arrived. He walked up to the rat and ate it. As usual, he didn't bother chewing.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound

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3. Scratchy's version of an unexpected snack

February 19th 2010 11:13

No idea what Short Black was doing awake at that hour, but I heard her calling me to come help with something she had cornered in the conservatory. She sounded slightly frantic, so out I went to help.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound

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Scratchy's diary: My February 14 treat

February 13th 2010 22:11

The Big Boss was particularly affectionate to the Little Boss this morning, as if February 14 is some special day. He called her "Valentine". That's a new one — how many names can one person have?

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Dog Diaries, Scratchy, Pampered pooches

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Scratchy's diary: Colour-coded comfort activity

February 9th 2010 11:02

One of the biggest problems in the known universe is the inability of human beings to rise at first light and give dogs their breakfast. It's shocking and sad how many humans fail to understand this

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Dog Diaries, Scratchy

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Scratchy’s Diary: Australia Day

January 31st 2010 03:16

All the bosses stayed home on Tuesday because it was Australia Day, which is a celebration of sorts. It’s like Greyhound Day with lots of food and, also, those drinks hoomans like which increases the volume of their speech.

I don’t know what it’s called. Noise juice, perhaps

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Maltese terrier, Dog Diaries, Scratchy, Pet interaction

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Ceremonial greetings

January 20th 2010 04:04

Greyhounds have long necks and they love to have them scratched. It instantly stops their excited jiggling, and in its place comes a balletic movement of the head from side to side. This is alternated with a stretching of the neck, both to change the point of contact and to maximise it.

With two dogs, moving on to the ear scratch calls for rationing, rather than maximisation, of efficiency. Take one ear from each dog and knead firmly at the base thereof. Crossing their heads brings the action closer, and is easy in my case as Scratchy is considerably taller than Daisy

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound

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Cone call

January 14th 2010 21:05

Part 2 of the story started yesterday: Halo from hell

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Canine epilepsy, Canine health

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Halo from hell

January 13th 2010 21:55

The vet gave it a long name in an even longer forgotten language, but I can't remember the term. Basically, it describes what can happen to a skin graze if it doesn't heal. "And it won't heal," said the vet, "if the dog keeps licking it."

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Canine health

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Oodles of fun

January 5th 2010 04:42

A Yorkshire terrier-poodle cross, known as a Yorkiepoo

Crossing assorted breeds of dogs with poodles to create designer canines has become popular. You see them everywhere you go now — there are oodles of them.

The idea is that you can combine the intelligence and friendly nature of poodles with the characteristcs of any other breed you fancy. Another plus is that a poodle can be crossed with pretty much anything and the poodle's cuddly, curly coat will prevail. We proved the dominance of the gene by crossing poodles with a brick and a crocodile. The resulting broodles and crocodoodles are soft and cuddly

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Oodles

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Scratchy's diary: raw and sore

January 4th 2010 05:28

I woke up in a funny place recently. No familiar faces, no Short Black and no Bosses. Just some cats in cages and the smell of disinfectant. There were some people I didn't know, some dressed in green and some dressed in white, but they were no more generous than Big Boss when it came to supplying food.

The thing is, I woke up sore. All my muscles were stiff, like I'd been running 40 kilometres instead of 400 metres. And I had raw, sore patches on my front legs, like I'd been banging them on something

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Canine epilepsy, Dog Diaries, Scratchy

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