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Daisy, Daisy

June 10th 2008 19:39
Daisy
Daisy

Moving day. The excitement of a new house, bought weeks earlier in a stomach-churning, emotion-laden auction. The stress of organising the packing and lifting and moving and unpacking and mess and chaos. A well lived-in house, it seems, will not empty. The more you pack, the more you find to pack.

Into the middle of this muddle came Daisy. The Greyhound Adoption Program people had nominated this day for the return of Scratchy, newly neutered and approved to go muzzleless in public, and Daisy, his adopted girlfriend. We could have pleaded for another day - moving house is a fairly reasonable excuse - but we didn't. The GAP people do too good a job to argue with.

It is unknown how much experience Daisy, not yet two years old, has had of domestic life, but it would be interesting to know her first thoughts of her new home. "Hmmm," she might have mused, "shiny floors - the Big Brindle and I will soon put a few homely claw marks on them - but where the heck is that stuff humans seem to like so much, what's it called, oh yeah, furniture?"

It was early afternoon and the first truck-load of belongings had yet to arrive. The house had been left spotless by the previous owners. The calm before the storm.

Daisy's papers show her name as Bella. But Cindy had decided there were too many Bellas in our current circle of canine friends, and a name change was called for. Scratchy doesn't seem to mind. He thinks of her as Short Black. It doesn't quite capture the romance of a new relationship, but it is accurate enough. Compared to Scratchy, Daisy is decidedly petite. She is black except for a diamond of white on her chest. She is dainty. And she is an absolute darling.

But she is no wilting flower, our Daisy. Six hours after she had arrived, she was asleep on the newly installed sofa in front of the newly installed television. We had thought she might be timid at first; we had expected her to need a few days to settle in. But here she was looking like she'd been here forever. Just as she had decided to adopt the Big Brindle immediately after meeting him a few days earlier, she had decided that Cindy and I, and our shiny floor-boarded house, would do. The arrival of a sofa only reinforced her decision.

Daisy had come to stay.
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Desensitization

May 29th 2008 11:39
Drive south-west out of Melbourne, on the the Princes Highway towards Geelong, and you come to Werribee. At Werribee there is a satellite campus of the Victoria University. Drive into the campus, I was told, find the car park in front of the veterinary science complex, and look for a man with a station wagon and a long, low, white dog trailer. When you find the man, I was instructed, give him your dog.

I found the man. "I am to hand over my dog," I said.

"Ah," he said, "Scratchy."

It is to be a big - it would be fair to say, life-defining - two weeks for Scratchy. The time will be spent with the very organised and very dedicated people at the Greyhound Adoption Program, who work so hard to place retired racers with good homes. Some greyhounds retire earlier than others, depending on their natural speed. Scratchy tends to mumble a bit when asked why he retired so early in his career.

The Greyhound Adoption Program people are generally referred to as GAP, and one of things they will do with Scratchy these two weeks is neuter him. As I write this, it occurs to me that I am not entirely certain why this is essential, that I am not entirely certain that there is a moral imperative, and that I am not entirely certain that Scratchy has had his rights read to him.

The second thing the GAP people will do is desensitize him. This sounds more like a first step to neutering. In fact, it's a kind of reversal of the training which made him a racing dog. That training - and bear with me here if I don't know all the technical terms - is to chase small, fluffy things. It is that in-built instinct, combined with their extraordinary speed, which results in the requirement that greyhounds, alone of all dog breeds, must wear a muzzle when in public. It does seem strange - all greyhounds are born with natural aggression levels roughly equal to that of, say, a tissue. However, when one combines a greyhound's speed, its instinct to chase, and the ability of government legislators to put two and two together and come up with laws aimed at protecting their cats, one sees the problem.

The GAP people have the answer. They put the dogs through a program which, if passed, earns the greatest prize for all non-racing greyhounds - a green collar. A greyhound with a green GAP collar does not have to wear a muzzle in public. A greyhound with a green GAP collar has satisfied the GAP people - and through them the legislators of the land - that it will not, if muzzleless in public, rob banks, drive while drunk or kill cats.

The third thing the GAP people will do with Scratchy is introduce him to bitches.

One of the things which Cindy and I have in common is a love of dogs, and one of the major signs of long-term commitment we made to each other was to agree to get a dog. Each. Two dogs - two statements that our future was together. My dog was to be a greyhound, and Cindy's was to be an oodle. She was tossing up between a schnoodle and a spoodle. By the time we got Scratchy, she was leaning towards a labradoodle, or maybe a cavoodle. A few weeks after Scratchy had come to live with us, she finally made up her mind - she wanted another greyhound.

Th GAP people have a lovely web site showing pictures and cleverly sweet descriptions of all the dogs currently looking for adoptive homes. Cindy, in looking at them, was thinking maybe a girl greyhound around Scratchy's age or a bit younger. Cindy, in talking to the GAP people about Scratchy's big two weeks away, was told that he could be introduced to some of the girls. To see which ones he gets on with best.

It was only yesterday that I handed my dog over to the man in the car park. Scratchy has a lot to do, a lot to get through in the next two weeks. Not all of it is happy. But I'm focusing on his introductions to some nice young friends. Because when Scratchy finally comes home, he will be bringing his chosen girlfriend with him.


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