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Dogs' days disturbed

November 19th 2008 05:38
daisy greyhound
Please don't leave me

Our dogs like their days to go like this: wake at first birdsong, whine outside the bedroom door for a minute until Big Boss yells "Go away," go away, laugh, dig hole in garden or destroy fluffy cushion or bark at birds or inspect interior of rubbish bin or do zoomie laps of the house until Big Boss or Little Boss appear for walkies time followed by breakfast, sleep the sleep of exhausted innocents, wake, eat dinner, sleep, wake at first birdsong ...

It is an established routine with which the dogs are clearly comfortable, and so it is perhaps not surprising that they looked confused and unhappy recently when I woke them in the middle of the afternoon and ejected them from the house.

"I have a new job," I told them. "The shift starts at 4pm, and I have to go to work now. You have to go outside until Little Boss comes home. She won't be long."

Confusion and unhappiness remained unabated.

"I have to earn money to buy food to put on the, err, in the bowls," I reasoned. Scratchy gave an exasperated sigh and moved away to find a sunny spot to sleep in. But Daisy clung to hope and to me. She pressed her face into my thigh and cried softly and looked up at me with pleading eyes. "Don't go. Oh please don't go," her eyes said.

The following day, the dogs woke more slowly and were more reluctant to go outside. By the third day, they refused to move.

"Outside," I repeated, lowering my voice and hardening my tone. No response. "Please." No movement. "Outside, now!" I barked. Scratchy tightened his grip on the sofa cushion. Daisy started to tremble.

Training dogs takes time and not a little skill, and it helps if you don't try to teach them new routines three minutes before your train leaves from a train station which can be reached in three and a half minutes if you run hard.

Six weeks later, however, and our new routine has been established. When I start preparing for work each mid-afternoon, Daisy now wakes and moves outside without being asked. Scratchy prefers to come into the bedroom and witness all the preparation activities, perhaps hoping I will produce a bone from the underwear drawer, before he too quietly joins Daisy in the back yard.

It's a relief, but now I have a new problem. The job is a temporary one and in four weeks I will be back working from home all day. I just don't know how to tell them that the routine will be changing yet again.



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greyhound adoption
Gentle Tess needs a home

Dammit, it's always a mistake visiting the Victorian Greyhound Adoption Program web site. They have lots of pictures of dogs looking for adoptive homes, and that tugs at the heart. And they have some fiendishly clever copywriting to go with the pictures, and that tugs at the heart even more.

If I followed my heart every time I looked at that web site, I'd have two hundred dogs. I already have two greyhounds and two sofas, and there just isn't any more sofa space at my place.

Today, however, it was especially tough to say no. Today I read about Tess.

Here is what they say on their home page here: "Poor Tess truly believes that no-one will love her because they'll think she's too old. Please prove her wrong! You don't want to hear this old girl cry!"

Why not, I ask - it put a tear in the eye of this old boy.

Here is what they say about Tess on their main information page here: "8yo Whelped 07/01/2000, Racename - OUR DREAMTIME. Tess has been a mum and now she's looking for a quiet couch to laze her days in. Tess is not a girl who needs lots of exercise - as far as she's concerned, the less exercise the better! If you're looking for a quieter, low maintenance dog, then look no further. She is not cat friendly."

Tess is available for adoption immediately. Please, someone, ring them now on (03) 5799 0166.

Before I do.

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Thundering greyhounds

November 13th 2008 21:01
It is 6.27am and I am woken by two greyhounds chasing each other up and down the wooden floorboards of the passage outside my bedroom. It sounds like thunder.

We have a firm rule in our house. The dogs are allowed to sleep inside as long as they don't wake us early. They have been doing well, but they have relapsed this morning.

There they go again! I was almost back to sleep, and crash!

I leap from the bed, cross the room in giant strides and throw open the door. "No!" I bark.

To any empty passage. Where are they? I march down the passage to the living room. "No, no, no!" Where are they?

Oh, I see them, outside on the porch, trying to look innocent. "No," I yell one last time, throwing my arms around for emphasis. They look bemused, like two foolish dogs trying to convince me they have done no wrong.

I start the trek back to the bedroom, wondering if I can possibly get back to sleep. I pass the big window and it suddenly penetrates my conscious mind that it is raining. And now I see lightning. And this is followed by a long, lazy roll of thunder.

It sounds like two greyhounds running on wooden floorboards.

Sorry Scratchy. Sorry Daisy.

greyhound innocence
We plead innocent



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Daisy finds gold

November 12th 2008 22:50
In a major upheaval in the lives of our greyhounds, we have a new sofa.

We have two sofas - and anyone with two greyhounds will understand the need for this excess. One of them, due to the wear and tear of time and the tossing of sleeping dogs, was in need of replacement.

So when my wife's boss announced a refurbishment of her office and, with it, disposal of a near-new sofa therein, we grabbed it.

Upon delivery, the dogs checked it for comfort and for cushion destructibility, pronouncing themselves satisfied with the former but a little disappointed with the second. They retired to a corner to refine their cushion destruction techniques.

The following morning we found one of the sofa cushions on the living room floor. The cushion was unharmed; this was simply a sign of complete acceptance of the new sleeping space.

It was in replacing the cushion that a remarkable discovery was made. There, hidden in the bowels of the sofa, was a gold bracelet.

My wife's boss is - well, let's say there is no doubt that some serious gold jewellery has passed through her office. And there was no doubt that this was serious jewellery made from serious and copious gold.

My wife put it in her pocket.

At work that day she asked the boss, "Do you know anyone who has lost a bracelet?"

"No," said the boss, "at least, not for a long time. I lost one a year or two ago. It was a great favourite. I bought in it New York. Expensive too. I ... "

The boss let out an odd sound - something between and squeak and a wail - as the lost bracelet was extracted from my wife's pocket. To the boss, it is worth far more than the sofa. But not to Daisy.

greyhound zoomies daisy
Daisy and her new sofa






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Pillow fright

October 31st 2008 10:06
greyhound
Such a nice cushion. I know, let's ...

Greyhounds like to sleep about twenty-three and a half hours a day. The time they don't like sleeping is, invariably, the 30 minutes before your alarm goes off.

We like to wake at 7am, and our two greyhounds like to wake at 6.30am. They like to announce their membership of the new-day club by whining outside the bedroom door, but I trained them out of that by, according to the dictates of modern canine behavioural theory, bellowing at them. Also on occasion opening the bedroom door and chasing them down the passage and out into the backyard and waving my arms and remonstrating in high-pitched squeaks.

My wife understands my frustration when it gets to this stage, but suggests I should put some clothes on first.

Being denied the pleasure of depriving their pack leaders of sleep, our dogs seek other amusements until said pack leaders finally emerge and do the things that pack leaders do, such as scratch ears and provide breakfast.

Most mornings these amusements involve standing at the far end of the passage and whining, which wakes me just as efficiently as if they were standing outside my bedroom door, and a discouragement strategy for which I am still perfecting.

This morning, however, either Scratchy or Daisy, or both, found an alternative amusement which involved a cushion, a lot of head-shaking, and all the fun of a snow storm.

It also involved a lot of cleaning up and a discussion on the logistical viability of keeping cushions on our sofas. We might have to put them all in a cupboard out of harm's way. A case of pillow fright followed by pillow flight.

greyhound destruction
... destroy it.

greyhound destruction
That was such fun! Oh, wait, you look displeased about something.

greyhound destruction
Oh well. I'll just go check if breakfast has been served yet.



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Some unpalatable greyhound truths

October 19th 2008 07:22
kit kissing greyhound
If only it were always like this

It has been a month of insights into a unique aspect of the greyhound breed, and of having them as pets. This is about muzzles and keeping them on-leash at all times.

[ Click here to read more ]
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greyhound sit
Sit! Good boy, almost (image greyghoundcrossroads.com)

Most greyhounds will not sit in the way almost all other dog breeds do. They find it uncomfortable because of their long backs and heavily muscled legs. If you see a greyhound, it will almost certainly be standing or lying down.

[ Click here to read more ]
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Speed machines

October 3rd 2008 01:24
ferrari F40
Ferrari F40s in training for our big race

Imagine the start line of a race. In Lane 1 we have a Ferrari, engine revving and hoping to show those fools who drool over McLaren F1s a thing or two. In Lane 2 we have a greyhound, standing calmly and hoping to earn a tummy rub. In Lane 3 we have a cheetah, hoping to have the greyhound for dinner.

[ Click here to read more ]
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The greyhound tiger

September 16th 2008 23:13
greyhound tiger
Tiger tiger - where's my breakfast?

It is 7am and time for a walk. Scratchy, aka the Big Brindle, is a cool dude who doesn't like to show excitement, but walks are a Big Thing and, as the dog leads are produced, he does little hops on his front paws.

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Writer's block

September 10th 2008 00:01
roadblock

I'm thinking of renaming my greyhounds Roadblock and Bollard.

[ Click here to read more ]
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A game of food ball, anyone?

September 5th 2008 03:53
greyhound food ball
You do what?


greyhound food ball
There's food in where?

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Let sleeping dogs be photographed

September 3rd 2008 02:54
sleeping dog

Scratchy takes sleeping seriously

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Digger Daisy

August 1st 2008 01:09
It has been almost two months since Daisy arrived and she has settled into a quiet, contented life with only the occasional disaster.

You wouldn't believe how deep a hole she can dig in the back lawn. It was a shock to see it, like a car crash without the tragedy. The yard looks like a war zone without the casualties


[ Click here to read more ]
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Sartorial Scratchy

July 14th 2008 23:07
dog coats

Don't talk about gender equality to the males in lion, peacock and elephant circles. Those manly manes, brilliant tail feathers and powerful tusks are the stuff of struts. If you've got it, flaunt it. It's the sort of top-shelf hauteur I would develop naturally if someone gave me an Aston Martin.

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