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The chaser

January 27th 2012 22:57

pet dogs greyhounds scratchy larry daisy

Is that a ball I see before me?

DAISY: It is beneath the dignity of greyhounds to chase balls. Like the great Scratchy before me, balls have no interest. One may point to the day Scratchy jumped on a beach ball, bit it, then looked puzzled as it emitted a sigh and collapsed, but this was an exception to the rule. Also one of the funniest things I have ever seen.

No, dear puppies, hear my words: greyhounds do not chase balls. Instead, we chase dreams and wild things. Once upon a time we were trusted friends of Arabian desert princes and chased gazelles and anything which approached our camp in the night. We were fleet of foot and sharp of eye and hearing, protectors of our world.

We are a noble breed, born to elite roles of athleticism. We do not chase balls.

LARRY: I never knew anything could be this much fun. Quick, throw it again.

It was a ball, so let me show you what I think of that.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound

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Larry’s Diary: In the shadow of Scratchy

January 26th 2012 03:49

Who is Scratchy?

I asked Daisy but she just got a funny look in her eye and wandered away.

I asked Mollie the Border Collie we pass on our walk every morning but she said she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.

I asked Frank the Great Dane in the park but he just dropped his tail and told me to ask Daisy.

I need to know because it seems that everything I do reminds someone of something about this Scratchy. When I eat quickly, I’m compared to Scratchy. When I run quickly, I’m compared to Scratchy. Stealing unripe fruit from the peach tree, and consequently throwing up on the sofa, evoke comparisons with Scratchy.

Who the heck is he?

So finally I looked Big Boss in the eye and did the thought transfer thing. Humans don’t know dogs can do this, and it’s not something we do every day, but I’d come to the point where a point had to be made.

So I got Big Boss’s attention and I said, “I’m assuming Scratchy was a former dog you were attached to. Indeed, everyone seems to have been attached to him. That’s fair enough, but you have to stop making me feel like I’m a replacement.

“Stop comparing everything I do to Scratchy. You hearing me, Big Boss? I’m me. I’m Larry. And I’m living in no-dog’s pawsteps.”

I broke the connection and watched as Big Boss’s eyes cleared. Slowly he looked down at me. “Hello Larry, my boy,” he said, and gave me the biggest cuddle I’ve ever had.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Larry

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Twinkle toes and the guilt trip

January 24th 2012 11:22

Don't call me, I'll call you.

Little Boss used to be a ballet dancer. She was a star, travelling all over the planet dancing famous roles with a world-class ballet company.

Her feet and my feet, along with her coordination and my coordination, have nothing in common.

But not even Little Boss can tread as softly as Larry Greyhound. Since joining the household recently, he’s learnt processes and procedures; causes and effects.

One of the things he’s learnt is that if he strolls into the study while Big Boss is doing important things on the computer, such as playing patience, he gets a pat.

It may not be a long pat. A head scratch, followed by a chin tickle followed by an ear fondle would be the norm. Fifteen seconds. Card games demand attention and vigilance.

Tonight, however, I realised just how softly Larry moves about the house. My attention was attracted by movement to the side of the desk, and I looked to see Larry … walking away. He’d obviously approached some time earlier to say hello and grab a quick scratch and tickle. He had stood patiently for some time, and he’d been ignored.

I’d noticed him too late. I think I heard a sigh of disappointment as he moved away.

“Larry,” I said, “I’m so sorry. Come back and I’ll give you a nice big pat.”

Larry didn’t exactly walk out of the room, but he didn’t turn around, either. He strolled over near the door, flopped to the carpet, issued another meaningful sigh, and closed his eyes.

Guilt city. That will teach me to pay more attention. Maybe we should have named him Dancer.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound

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He who shall be named …

January 22nd 2012 02:44

Ssshh. If you are going to read this, please don’t tell anyone what I am about to reveal about our new greyhound, Clint.

You see, Clint had a trainer who was a bit sad to see him go off to the Greyhound Adoption Program. We know because when we got Clint from GAP, there amongst the paperwork was the trainer’s name and phone number, along with a note which said the trainer would be “delighted” if the new owner rang for a chat about the dog.

So we did, and the owner told us that he had trained both Clint and his brother, and they were great dogs and he would love to have kept both of them in retirement but he already had six greyhounds as pets.

This bloke needs to be careful, we thought, or he will start giving greyhound trainers a good name.

Clint also had an adoptive homestay for a few weeks, part of the process for all greyhounds going through the adoption program and aimed at transitioning them from the life of an elite athlete to life as a couch potato.

It’s possibly the greatest natural conundrum in the known universe: how can one dog breed be so perfectly adapted to both lifestyles.

Anyway, we met the couple who acted as Clint’s adoptive carers on behalf of GAP, and you could tell they were pretty sad to be saying goodbye. Our good friend Jennie, who has done the adoption thing with about a trillion greyhounds, says the handover day is a happy one because she can drive away knowing she has played a key role in the future happiness of a dog and its new family.

But Jennie’s special. We think less experienced people who love animals enough to do this important work for GAP generally have a tug of regret when the moment comes to say goodbye.

For the couple who had taken care of Clint, you could see it was a major tug, not least because Clint was their first adoptive greyhound. We hope it’s not their last. GAP needs people like them.

And so Clint came to live with us, immediately creating problems for two reasons.

One is that he’s a slightly undersized greyhound who is all black except for a bit of white on his chest. This is a problem because our other greyhound, Daisy, is slightly undersized and all black except for a bit of white on her chest.

After studying the pair under a microscope for a week, we discovered Clint has three white feet and one black, while Daisy has three black feet and one white. Hooray! Now, whenever a dog comes up to say hello, all we have to do is drop to our knees and peer closely at their paws to decide which it is.

Anyway, I’m digressing, trying to delay the difficult part of this post, and the reason I must ask none of you, this blog’s readers, to tell Clint’s former trainer or his adoptive carers what we have done.

What we have done is this: we have changed his name. Clint, the name which rolled so easily off the tongue of trainer and carer, a word which they casually and effortlessly infused with loving affection, didn’t appeal to us.

Neither Little Boss nor I, delving deep into our hearts and hearing, as one does, the mind’s eye looking forward to a long future of calling out “Clint! Dinner!” and “Clint! Stop barking at possums at 3am”, felt comfortable.

So we talked about it, in whispers in case anyone heard, and decided to change his name to Larry.

Allow me, therefore, to introduce Zoomies readers to our new greyhound, Larry. But please don’t tell the kind trainer or the lovely adoptive couple we changed his name. To them, let him always be Clint.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Greyhound adoption programs, New friends

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Missing him

December 3rd 2011 22:07

There is a spot in a corner of the main bedroom in our house which lies between bed and window. Light streams in and warms the spot in winter, and it is at the right end of the house to be cool in summer.

In days past, a big, brindle greyhound could often be found there. In fact, the only time Scratchy greyhound was not fast asleep in this corner was when he was fast asleep on the sofa or on the back verandah checking for microscopic remainders of last night’s dinner.

Much of his life was spent in the comfortable spot in the bedroom. I call it Scratchy’s Corner.

However, a strange thing is happening. Scratchy’s Corner is being increasingly occupied by Daisy, our other greyhound.

Daisy has never expressed in words that I can understand how she felt about Scratchy’s sudden disappearance. The bosses took him to the vet one day, and came home without him.

She kept waiting for him to turn up, but he didn’t. Not even at dinner time.

I have watched Daisy settle in to Scratchy’s Corner a few times now. It’s only been a few weeks, and to a greyhound, his scent would still be there. Before she closes her eyes, there is an unmistakable moment’s pause, of reflection. She misses him too.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound

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Farewell Scratchy

November 12th 2011 05:07

I bring sad news: Scratchy Greyhound is no longer with us. Our big, gentle, lazy, clumsy boy developed a sore shoulder which just two weeks later was found to be cancer. A raging, vicious, aggressive bone cancer

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound

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Letter to the editor

October 4th 2011 04:46

Scratchy: For those who heretofore have not recognised my genius, please be informed that I have just had a letter published in a newspaper.

Daisy: You have not

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound

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Ready, set, breakfast

September 9th 2011 21:19

DAISY: I am intelligent because I have recognised the pattern of events each morning which culminates in the presentation of my half slice of toast. The popping of the little machine and the scraping of the metal blade across bread are preliminary signals. But it is the cutting noise, when the blade separates the piece of bread into two portions, that is the true sign. When I hear that noise, I bound from the sofa, run out the trap door and head around to the side door where, I know, Big Boss will immediately appear with my warming morning treat.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound

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Patting thin air

August 17th 2011 07:32

Okay, I'm ready for that pat now.

Scratchy strolled into the study for a pat. As he got close to my chair, I reached out a hand without taking my eyes off the computer screen.

My hand found only thin air

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound

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Culled kangaroos and pet food

July 19th 2011 11:12

Not for the first time, an American friend has expressed fascination, in an incredulous kind of way, with the fact that Australians happily eat kangaroo meat. It’s something which hasn’t caught on anywhere else yet, but then again it’s something which took its time catching on around Australia.

It started here as pet food, which helps justify writing this report on a dog blog to dog lover friends

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound

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