Can Irony Get Any Better Than This

Tonight, a friend, greyhound friend, asked me where Berry originated.  So I had to check her name and tattoos (ugh!) in the database.

So, the precious angel’s dam is Mountkeeffe Lizz and sire is Flying Viper. 

Ok.  Viper doesn’t excite me much.  Then I read where Mountkeeffe Lizz had 34 offspring.  34?  I was horrified.  I am guessing she was brooded until no longer useful?  Mother of God.  34?

Alas, Berry had no stats associated with her.  Either she did not race or it wasn’t tracked.  If she wasn’t raced, it’s terribly sad she was tattooed in those soft delicate ears.  If you haven’t felt the velvet of a greyhound’s ears, you have missed something wonderful.

I searched Flying Eagle Kennels, where she originated.  And learned of a distemper outbreak where over 100 greyhounds had to be euthanized back in approximately 2003.  There are very ugly details there.  I couldn’t complete that search.  Not at this time.

Not impressed with the details I could find on the kennel, I searched on the owner of the kennel, one Vince Berland.  Another stellar individual who stated:

"We don't have a whole lot going for us," said Vince Berland, a greyhound breeder, "So we'll try anything to keep from having to work for a living."

(This, courtesy of a friend, Ironicus Maximus (2005).)

The more I dig, the worse it gets.  It’s incredibly tragic and I cannot dig further.  It just saddens me.  I just don’t understand the mindset of a person who would willingly breed, race and dispose of these beautiful, loving creatures.  I stopped digging.

So many greyhounds have to suffer for man’s greed. 

Very sad.  My Berry is, and has been, forever safe from that life. 

The irony?  My friend’s Sammy is Berry’s great-great nephew.