Friday, January 2, 2015

I Was Born Free

There was probably a kind-hearted intent buried deep within this video.  And I am thankful they were helped by kind persons.  Truly happy they were saved.

However, the opening words on the video?
Well, to someone like me, not a great introduction. 

It stuck me as apologist.  Or...
"I was born free".  Oddly, the perfect song for the greyhounds.  Quite the dichotomy of the message from the beginning of the film, where the stream read:

"In the greyhound world I don't like to say rescue"

What the ever loving hell were they if not rescued?  The owners didn't want them.  The breeders didn't want them.  The trainers didn't want them (or were trying to get them out).  They were of no use to the industry any longer.
In some countries, they call it wastage.
What precisely do you call those dogs?  "Retired"?  I can choose my job and choose my retirement. 
These angels were bred and trained to earn a living they never chose.
How is that "retired"?

In my - OUR - greyhound world, we say the word rescue. Loudly and proudly.

Rescued.  And better for it.


Saturday, December 6, 2014

It’s Christmas Time All Over The World

In places near and far...

Or whatever people celebrate, whether Hanukkah or Kwanza or…  I hope it is a beautiful season for you.

It is a reason to celebrate what means the most to each of us.

Mine is simple.  And my wish is simple.

As I look at my rescued greyhounds and rescued galga, I pray they are all saved from the life they once lived.

Looking back over the years, the pro-racing contingency has resorted to hard ball.  Boycott the rescues who will place greyhounds in great homes. 

Screw the dogs, as they don’t matter to them.

They want to make a statement.  Be with us or be without.

All in rescue care nothing about the industry.  We care about the dogs.

So some keep quiet, walking a tightrope to pacify the overly inflated egos in the industry.

Others speak and act.  And so the recipients of the boycotts.

Industry – whoo hoo, you there with your minds in your pockets.  You forgot someone in your united effort to close off rescues.  You forgot the ones putting the butter on your damned bread.

You have completely forgotten the precious hounds.

You know them.  They seek to please.  You’ve trained them to do nothing more.

And when they no longer please?  Lock them in a kennel on a piece of plywood.

God help them, they can’t even be delivered to a rescue organization because of you, nasty industry.

While bully tactics are working for you right now (right fake FB account taunting a rescue?), you are making more enemies and risking more dogs to overloaded pro-racing and neutral groups, who may not take the care needed to place a dog in the right home.
Galgueros?  I won't go there beyond rot in hell with your damn tradition. 

Sing me the song of the “I love the dogs” theme again?

I forgot the words…

Dear Santa,

All I want for Christmas is our houndies to be safe from money-hungry, abusive fake vets and “trainers” and galgueros who do not give a rat’s ass about the dogs.

They deserve far better than they have been forced to endure.

And Santa?  Thank you for my beautiful saved souls who may be spoiled rotten and, at times, not deserving of a stocking stuffed.

They will never be used again.

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Green Collar

Thanks to the broad reach of Facebook, I’ve made many friends in a land down under.

I learn things from them often.

One, I heard of years ago, but just recently started researching was the “green collar” exemption.

Apparently, there are states in Australia that require RESCUED racing greyhounds to undergo, what I affectionately call, an ASS-essment before they can be walked without a muzzle.

Walk without a what??  Living in the U.S., I had a hard time wrapping my brain around this.

So I quizzed my friends to understand what this indignity is.  They can correct me if I am wrong on this.

My take on this is for a greyhound (you know, those lazy dogs, who do little more than eat, sleep, play) who has come out of the racing industry’s grasp must be muzzled when they are walked in public.

And there is a program where they can “earn” a green collar.  Meaning they are exempt from wearing the muzzle.
Oddly, the ASS-essment group is none other than the racing industry.  Pay a fee and they can be evaluated, away from home, for a length of time to see if they are serving and judged so by those whose qualifications are suspect…

Now, who on earth thinks up these requirements.  Oh.  That’s right.  An industry sponsored “organization” and fully sanctioned by the local government.

So…  what happens to the ones who never pass.  I’ve had some that wouldn’t have passed this ridiculous hold of the industry. 

Dee will go into a bucking bronco at the sight of a truck.  Does that mean she could not qualify for this archaic industry-sponsored crap?  I don’t think so. 
It’s more a reaction to her being hauled back and forth from Iowa to Florida, over and over, to make just one more buck off her.
Berry, who would have a melt down meeting a human she didn't know?

No green collar?  Or would they have been taken straight from the track to be killed.

The racing industry and those sponsored by it are the worst enemy of our beloved Rescues.
It's so sad they have that kind of control over the future of greyhounds.  It's almost as if they want it fail and therefore support that fallacy, without racing, the breed will disappear.
Utter bullshit and they know it.


Judging By Looks

Not a greyhound post but a hound post nonetheless.  And one I am equally passionate about.

I know I’ve already shared this petition.  And for those who have signed.  Thank you.

If you have not, and I ask little from others, please sign and send a message.

It’s a situation of persons in a position of “authority” who decree in mid-October that all those families with a Rottweiler or Pit Bull must remove those animals or those in “authority” will come, take them and dispose of them.

I don’t know those in these individuals in positions of “authority”, but my image, right or wrong, is of backwater, belligerent, pea-brained, mental minions with no business judging an animal on the surface without knowing the character of the animal.

Please, for the love of God, stop blaming the dog.

Feel free to leave a comment on the news story or send a letter to the Village of Moreauville.

Ripping a beloved family member out of the home they love reaches new levels of low.

Friday, October 10, 2014

Sighthounds, NGA, Boycotts and Fake Accounts

One thing I am not is silent.  One thing I am is tenacious.

Some of the trollers think I gave up when I don’t post.

Nah, it’s called a new JOB that does not require using animals to fund my retirement…

But feeling a need to write a post.

See, I, being the faithful Facebook person, was celebrating the good news posted by a very dear friend.  And so began this post.

I will admit, some things just tick me off.  Like a poser taunting a dear friend.  A poser being a coward with a fake Facebook account.  (Seems to be a plethora of them on Faceyland...)

And said poser leaving a taunt on the page of someone I consider a very dear friend.

                   That’s a sure fire way to see the Not-Nice-Nan spitting nails.

But seeing as the taste of nails is almost as vile as the racing industry itself, I come to my blog.

My friend posted about some galgos and podencos, rescued from the bowels of Spain/hell and coming to the USA for their first ever homes.

The happiness and congratulatory comments for saving more dogs were resounding. 

Yet there was one discordant note.

Enter the “poser”.  A fake Facebook account, a bogus name of a “person” with no friends claiming Hialeah, Florida as home.
For those of us on the receiving end of the trolls and the abusers, the usual suspects come to mind.


 What?!?!?!  Say what, fake David?  The greyhound industry, like, I mean Gucc and Gorish and Parkinson and all the little minions have a ban??  Oh say it ain't so, Joe.  I mean, "David".
What I find comical, in a twisted way, is the racing industry is screaming deny, deny, DENY when someone questions their boycott of certain rescues.

And yet this tool broadcasts the boycott and gloats. 
     Dumbshit didn’t read the memo that there is no “boycott”. 

Perhaps it's an act of desperation by a moron.  That “walls come tumbling down” feral mentality.

But back to the boycott, you know, the one we all know about and they deny.

I mean, for the industry to boycott a rescue, not on humane reasons, but because the group doesn’t agree with the exploitation of a dog because the dog runs and is used to make money is nothing more than a bully tactic. 

But the industry has, indeed, called for the boycott of certain rescues. 
But they will never admit it.

Why?  Because a boycott of rescues who have ready homes screams the true intent of the industry.

It is NEVER for the dogs.

The dogs fell below tertiary to them.  They would rather overload the industry sponsored “adoption” groups who don’t do home checks and eliminate to make room for more.

Right, sing me that song again about how much they love “their” dogs.  Whose names they don’t know or what sex they are ("it") or where the hell they even are or if they even live...

Friday, September 19, 2014

Chicken Little – The Breed Will Disappear

We’ve all heard this.  It’s one of the racing industry’s mantras.

Without racing, the greyhound breed will disappear.

Somehow, they’ve either convinced themselves of that or they hope to get fewer people against.

Light bulb time.

Didn’t the greyhound breed exist over a thousand years ago or so?  Like kings and family companions?

And less than a thousand years ago, weren’t commoners banned from owning a greyhound?

Now, nothing personal, racing people, you are a tad common. 

So it wasn’t until some greedy mob-mentality guys said they run fast!  Let’s race them and make some money that racing greyhounds became some quasi-industry.

And so begins the downfall of the greyhounds’ care.  Not the breed, but their well-being.

“Without racing, the breed will disappear”

While it’s quite dramatic for effect (as most of your boasts) and some believe that, for others it is narcissistic. 

I’m certain you are brilliant in your own little domain, but you are not God to greyhounds.

If it were not for the industry and their exploitation of these gorgeous hounds, there would be no need for rescues.

There would be no starved dogs.
  • No broken legs.
  • No broken backs.
  • No electrocution.
  • No dead greyhounds.
Yet you continue to justify what you do.

Maybe you should have saved a bit of money, because glory days of racing are ending.

They greyhounds will outlive the racing industry’s greed.  They’ve done it for years, thanks to RESCUES.

But as long as there is racing (losers on the "Lies" page), no, Weller will not shut up!

And if greys are back to being pampered family members and not commodities of an industry out to use them and toss them, the shelters are teeming with loving dogs needing homes.

A rescue is a rescue.  All come with baggage from their past trauma.  One day, there will be no "baggage" for the greys.

Friday, September 12, 2014

Welfare and Subsidies - Doggie Style

The oddities of the racing industry.  No compassion whatsoever for the dogs they overbreed.  Animal welfare - greyhound welfare - advocates point out the failings, and they label us whackos.

I’m not sure how one equates seeking to protect the dogs from injury, electrocution, starvation (you will never live down Ronnie-douche) to a wacko.

More wacko to me is to accept an industry assuming it will have life-time subsidies, props, silver spoons and all from the taxpayers’ money.

"Representatives of thoroughbred and greyhound breeders told West Virginia legislators Wednesday that cutbacks in state subsidies of racing purses are devastating the racing industry in the state. “For all of us, it’s been disastrous,” said Sam Burdette, president of the West Virginia Greyhound Owners and Breeders Association, discussing cuts in racing subsidies, the most recent being a 10 percent reduction enacted during the regular session."

And?  So?

Sam predicts doom:

"Burdette said decoupling could be a double-edged sword for the four casinos, since current law requires live racing as a condition of obtaining casino gaming licenses.If that requirement were eliminated, Burdette asked, “Do you open the state up for additional casinos?’”

Rather comical, in a sad way.  In some bombastic way, he's saying without us, you'd be nothing.  Bombastic and savior, all rolled up in one.

Sam?  I did you notice the tremendous dip in revenue?  Or in lingo you would understand, butts in the stands?  Few in the stands to watch them run in circles.

No one wants to bet on the dogs but the owners and breeders and a few old-timers.

      Oh, did we say Sam Burdette is president of WV Greyhound Owners and Breeders Assn?

       Perfect “Cry wolf” individual.  Hell, his retirement plans relies on dogs running in circles, being        injured, PTS and breeding.  So that more can come and run in circles with no one watching.
The racing industry is becoming the next "welfare" recipient.  Or has already become.  They rely on the subsidies to survive.

Yet they are an industry.  Not a person.  As an industry they should be governed as such and not some propped up hanger-on.

While their comments amuse the hell out of me in their justification of the industry's existence. I'd rather see them done and gone.

And no, kids, despite the histrionics of the industry, if racing ends the breed will NEVER disappear.  Greyhounds have existed for over a thousand years.  (That's the other cry wolf theme of the industry, once again).

It will never take a few greedy bastards to wipe out a breed.

They will only become what they once were.  Treasured pets and family members.

Right, has-been racers due for oblivion?

Friday, August 22, 2014

Greyhound Racing ~ The Song Remains The Same

New story from Daytona, Florida.

Where else but the hotspot of senselessly racing dogs in debilitating heat and humidity, college Spring Breakers and little else of value.  I guess unless you like car racing or something.

Whatever, back to the story. 

So this trainer was suspended.  Doping dogs, it says.

“The Department of Business & Professional Regulation Pari-Mutuel Wagering Division, which oversees commercial greyhound racing in Florida, suspended kennel operator Lance LaFreniere for 45 days and fined him $500 after an investigation concluded that RJ’s Miraclemary, a dog under LaFreniere’s care, had been given the painkiller oxymorphone.”
I won’t be an expert in drugs other than what I’ve had during surgery, but according to Wikipedia:
“Oxymorphone is indicated for the relief of moderate to severe pain and also as a preoperative medication to alleviate apprehension, maintain anaesthesia and as an obstetric analgesic. Additionally, it can be used for the alleviation of pain in patients with dyspnoea associated with acute left ventricular failure and pulmonary oedema.[4] It is practically devoid of antitussive activity.[4]

Racing an injured dog, dickweed?  Or did it have a cough?  Damn, can they get much lower?

LaFreniere says “There is no way in hell I would do this to any of my dogs, I wouldn’t give a dog anything like that.”

Really?  Would you care to explain the following, 'LaTrainiere?

“A review of LaFreniere’s racing license history shows that he has been fined by the department 19 times since 1996."


"Records state he was fined $100 and suspended for a month in 2003 after a greyhound tested positive for dimethyl sulfoxide — also known as DMSO — a controversial antioxidant sometimes used to help dogs recover after races.”

I see self-regulation is going swimmingly.  Recover after races.  Hmmm...So they can race sooner for more two bit bets?  Surely new laws have been enacted to protect the greyhounds.

“State law holds kennel operators like LaFreniere responsible for any banned substances found in their dogs’ systems. LaFreniere has been fined at least seven other times since 1996 for dogs that tested positive for banned substances.”

Well, then he was banned for life, right?

"Kennel club manager Dan Francati said LaFreniere will be allowed to race at the track again once his state-ordered suspension is served."

“They’re gone for however long they’re gone,” Francati said of trainers who are suspended. “They do their time.”"

Their time???  Really...

Your system is working brilliantly.  No lesson learned, back to the same mistreatment.  No thought to the physical, psychological and mental damage done to a dog who is nothing but a product to gain profits.  Never a dog.

Back to business as normal.  Or S.N.A.F.U.  Situation normal....

And all for a shitty $2 bet.

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Rainbow Bridge

I started thinking about Rainbow Bridge.  I’ve not really done that.

I know many of mine have gone to bridge.  Often before I was ready for a goodbye.

Through Facebook, I know so very many more who have gone.

I figure The Bridge must be 300 million gazillion times the size of Montana.

And somehow, when we finally go there, through that vast expanse and the crowd of loved ones they find US.
Bridge angels, without you in our lives, without your love in our lives, we would be 1/10 of who we are.
Look for us when we come.  I will search high and low for you.
Shine through the stars.  We see you there,.

Saturday, August 2, 2014

Another Buehrle Golf Classic - Another Classic Day

A bit of a long story to get to my point, but a reason for it.

Every year, I play golf in a charity tournament.  Buehrle Golf Classic to raise money for cancer research through John Wayne Cancer Institute, Siteman Center and The Rypien Foundation.

Best recalculated guess is 14 years now.  Even after all those foot surgeries.

It's a 4-person golf scramble and we were 3.

We arrived and had a 4th paired with us.  Dr. Nick Davidson.  Uh oh…  A doctor…  with us???

He arrived not knowing he was playing.  He was there to speak, meet and greet, about cancer research.

And he was stuck with us…  Oh gad…

Utterly wonderful man!  We certainly did not intimidate him with our tremendous play….  I told him I was only there for comedic relief. 

Ok, that was the background of this post.

Lunch after golf, my usual topic (such a great conversationalist) comes down to the dogs.  I was fretting over them home alone so long.

The good doctor and I had a great conversation about the greyhounds.  He asked many questions.  About mine, about them in general.

I brought up the problem with osteo (he’s in cancer research after all) and the breeding of bloodlines that perpetrate the disease.

He asked about their disposition, interaction with kids, adults.  Potty training.  I mentioned the stairs training.  He was filled with questions about the rescues and asked where there were rescue groups around here. 

So wonderful to have a talk with someone so interested in these glorious kids. 

My friend, Angelo, just looked on indulgently.  He’s used to me babbling about my dogs.

My friend, Bruce, piped right in for the greys and he has lab-mix rescues.

Dr. Nick has a 12 year old mutt – little bit of lab.  Maybe he will consider a greyhound someday.

I left, after playing crappy golf, with a big smile. 

Thanks Dr. Nick!!  It was a pleasure!

Friday, July 25, 2014

Thinking About Luck And Choices

Life is strange.  Don’t get me wrong.  I prefer it over the alternative at the moment.  And yes, rather early to be contemplative for me.  Just thinking about how things turn out.

If I hadn’t taken a leap of faith and taken a job as a contractor at WFA, I would not have met some very important people to me. 

Had it not ended after the mandatory 18 months, I would not have been able to spend the last quality months with the love of my life, Schemie.

Had I not done a good job at WFA, both my project managers there would not have wanted to bring me back.

Had I not accepted Shelly’s offer at Xerox to work with her and Lee again, I would have been hesitant to bring in a fresh off the track rescue, Dee, and help her acclimate to home life with the best teacher, Schemie. 

I would have missed the final days of my boy’s life, being able to be near him whenever.

I would not have adopted another fresh off the track dork, Craigie, and help him learn inside vs. outside.  We still need to work on the no digging holes thing, though...

I would never have been able to adopt one darling little flowerpot galga, Neska and help her learn and become spoiled.  Who takes after her brother in digging holes...

I would never have been able to spend a year, caring for my Smokey Bear, taking him twice a week for fluids and holding him as we said our farewells.

All those “if I had hadn'ts” and “what ifs” led to the newest leap of faith.  Which came at a fortuitous time, I guess.

One of my brothers used to say someone “stepped in shit”.  Meaning they got lucky.

(I do all the time on poop patrol and don’t find that remotely lucky.  Maybe it’s like  the “even a blind squirrel..”?  He has lots of odd sayings...)


Huh, guess I “stepped in shit” again.


Saturday, July 12, 2014

Schemie, Till We Meet Again

Hey, little manser.  It’s been 3 years now since I held you last.  It seems like yesterday that I lay on the floor and sobbed over your suddenly lifeless body.  A light went out that day.

I won’t post another tribute to best boy.  I’ve done that once.  Or twice or…  But I thank you.  For what you gave me.  (ok, became another tribute...)
You, with your unflagging love and loyalty to each rescued little girl I brought home. 

You taught Britty there was far more to life than being tied to a tree and neglected.  You taught her to trust.


When Britty left, you seemed lonely to me.  An "only dog-child" for years, you really loved your guardian role.  So, after a search, I found you a timid sister.  One to protect. 

Sweet precious Berry.  Bounce-back rescued greyhound.  Life dealt her a shitty hand.  Yet you stayed with her, protected her, guided her, loved her until she went to the Bridge, hurried along by DM and undetermined causes.


So at 15, for your birthday, 6 months after Berry went to the bridge, I adopted another black greyhound.  Little DeeDee. 

Macho man now took in stride she was taller than he.  And, like a champ, you did what you did with your other girls.  Protected her on small walks, at that point, showed her how wonderful home life is.  She is the princess now, because of you.


Yet 1 ½ months later, you left us.  Perhaps your heart said “I’m just tired now.  I’ve done my job.”  Perhaps you were content that Dee was here and you taught her what you knew, mama would not be alone and it was time to retire to the Bridge.

I’ll never know.  All I know is I was blessed to spend over 15 years with the most incredible little man ever!
I’ll see you one day.  Of that, I am convinced. 

Please give my loving to Cyrus, Sheba, Sasha, Britty, BerBer and Smokey Bear.

And more to my friends who are new to the bridge.  Show them around and make them smile.
Love you,
p.s.  Stop chasing Smokey!!  Oh, wait till mama gets there, mister!
We suffer heartaches over the years.  Sometimes the holes left by those we've loved and lost are enormous.  But our hearts, when filled with love and giving, can patch those holes, slowly and with time.  Perhaps with thin lace, where holes still exist.

But we can heal the hurt by saving another from hurt.

Who knew one little black, flea-ridden, backyard-born and unwanted pup could become this incredible little man and teach this message.

Thanks, Bember!!