7 things only a greyhound owner will understand
Hello! Happy Friday!
Let me paint you a scene.
It’s 8 in the morning. The sun has lost its summer oomph and is now a pale presence in the living room, providing little warmth. Dave and I are rugged up accordingly – me sporting an itchy woollen beanie, Dave, a pinstripe felt kimono with a big bow tied around his waist.
He’s on the couch, silently staring at me as I type – his serious expression at comic odds with the canine PJs.
(Perk #6758 of greyhounds – they tolerate whatever awkward outfit you choose to dress them in.)
If you haven’t cohabited with a greyhound, it’s hard to understand their quiet watchfulness – ever observant, like needle-nosed sentries ensuring their hooman is safe (and making moves to feed them in the near future). Once you’ve experienced it, life without the concentrated gaze of the most loving dog in the world is unimaginable. So, as my best pal and I hang in the living room on a chilly Autumn morning, I thought I’d share 7 things that only a greyhound owner will understand. To truly relate? You’ll just have to foster or adopt a retired racer of your own.
Greyhounds are remarkably triangular. If you struggle with maths, calculating the cotangent of your hound’s head is a great way to become familiar. Triangular ears, triangular snout, triangular torso – Dave’s one big triangle on legs. And, as everyone knows, triangles are the perfect shape.
2. Disdain for regular dogs
Maybe it happens to every dog owner. Perhaps it’s specific to dogmatic greyhound dads and mums. Regardless, the syndrome is real. Like besotted parents with a newborn – oblivious to its misshapen head and bulging goldfish eyes – greyhound owners think their Dog is God. To me, Dave is pawfection, and those other dogs at the park are irritating imitations. (Not really! I adore them all. But mainly greyhounds.)
Greyhounds also have a particular air; they’re regal, well-mannered and unobtrusive. As regular doggies plough through the mud, investigate each others privates and gyrate in poo, greyhounds look on, bamboozled. Why do such a thing? Uncouth!
3. Gangly goofiness
Those extendable limbs were made to propel greyhounds at warp speed. When not in use? Think Bambi on ice. Bending down to drink, hoover a floor-morsel or sit on your lap, their legs end up at all angles – including intertwined with your own.
4. Pogo dog
Glass sliding door. Greyhound on one side; you on the other. Greyhound is happy to see you, and illustrates the fact by bouncing sky-high like pogo dog. (This is SO Rassilon). It is explosive, endearing, awe-inspiring behaviour. Fortunately, greyhound gymnasts have no awareness of their own strength. Fence jumping? Inconceivable. (Plus, why escape when the food is right here?)
5. The reactions of kids
Kids have priceless reactions to greyhounds. As Dave and I stroll past schools or playgroups, screeches follow us down the street.
WAAAA! LOOK AT THAT HUUUUUUUUGE DOG!
WAAAA! LOOK AT THE PONY!
WAAAA! *runs in the opposite direction*
(And if you happen to have a Brindle greyhound, “Look a Tiger”)
Little do they know that despite Dave’s size, he’s a big ole softie. Literally, the softest animal in the universe. (This goes for all greyhounds)
It’s common for greyhound owners to experience GSP – Greyhound Sensory Perception. This cosmic inter-species connection allows you to know, intuitively, whether your pooch is hungry (always), in need of the loo, chilly, snuggly or wondering when the heck you can head home from this ridiculously boring picnic. Greyhounds speak to you silently in ways other humans can’t understand. Magic.
7. The Cult
The Cult of the Grey has one requirement: that you worship at the altar of skinny pups and upload pictures of them thrice daily to Instagram. Perks include secret paw-shakes in the street, a global network of hound-lovers and more greyt puns than you can poke a snoot at.
Feeling left out? Don’t despair. All this – and more! – is available to foster carers, adopters and greyhound lovers alike. The Cult is always accepting new members, and we can’t wait to welcome you with furry enthusiasm.
While I didn’t write this, as a greyhound owner, I fully understand it, and have seen it myself with Rassilon. If you don’t understand this but would like to learn about this phenomenon of the greyhound cult, you can adopt a retired racing greyhound, or if you are not sure about greyhounds as pets, you can foster one for 6 weeks. If you get bitten by the grey bug, you will probably be able to keep that dog, if you don’t want to keep it, you will have prepared a greyhound for adoption into it’s forever family. (I have met a couple of people that just foster dogs to prepare them for adoption, and get a new dog every 6 weeks).
I started off on the foster to adopt plan, a 6 week period, but knew after 3 days that the dog was NOT going back. Apart from Leading Rassilon into the house once (he was fine coming and going after that), Rassilon was incredibly competent as a pet. He had a bit of trouble with the slippery floor in the kitchen, and a little trouble going up stairs once, (when he saw through the steps to the ground behind), but as soon as he realised there was no problem he was fine, and there has never been a problem since, and he has learned everything himself. However an older ex-racer may be a bit more set in it’s ways and may need more training.
I suppose foster carers who are passing the dog back for adoption may prefer to teach the dog to stay off the furniture, but I didn’t bother with that as Rassi is allowed everywhere. Anyway, your adoption agency will have a list of requirements for adoption training.
So visit your local greyhound adoption agency and get involved with
The cult of the grey.
I saw on the Internet that Donald Trump is banning the sale of shredded cheese.
He wants to make America grate again.