GA Scotland and the greyhound who started it all
Verfasst: So 11. Dez 2011, 18:02
Hello
Just to clear up a few matters. Contrary to rumour, we've not lost interest and given up!
Greyhound Action Scotland has not been active for some months due to my health issues but it is very much an ongoing campaign in Scotland. Fortunately things have been relatively quiet while this has been going on.
The website is now down and it will be relaunched shortly in memory of a very special greyhound - the one who was responsible for it.
Today is the first anniversary of his death and I don't feel I can allow it to pass without finally telling his whole story. Its copied below.
It may be a while until we're fully up and running as normal but meantime, please get in touch if you need to.
CheersAmanda
Tel: 07795 514073 greyhoundactionscotland@btopenworld.com
In 2000, we decided to get a family dog. One of my friends told me she had heard greyhounds made great pets. I had a nice memory of my friends dads racing greyhound as a child so the idea grew on me. I made contact with one of the few greyhound 'rescues' around at the time. In retrospect, I discovered this was the welfare wing of the industry itself. This 'rescue' offered me a dog saying that he was in a bad way and his nerves were so bad that he was unable to race - he was petrified of men. His racing name was 'Funny Frank'. They arranged to bring him round the next again week.
On 9th June 2000, a couple arrived on my doorstep with the biggest dog I've ever seen. His name was Sam, he was 21 months and he was a bundle of nerves though was more than able to show a cheeky streak when it came to cuddly toys which he adored!
The couple were greyhound trainers and ran the local branch of the welfare wing. They explained although Sam had an unnatural attachment to the woman, he wouldn't let the man near him. He'd been brought over from Donegal with his sister and brother by a syndicate to race at Shawfield but because of the nervous condition of all three of them, none of them were ever able to race. Sam was the biggest greyhound they'd ever had and he was the fastest but they could do nothing with him due to his nerves.
Sam had previously been rehomed but handed back after the people let him off the lead within a day and he ran away. Sam also ate their tropical fish... I was 'last chance' for Sam and they told me that I should NOT get him neutered because if I handed him back, they'd 'send him to Ireland' for stud. They scored out the part on the adoption agreement which said that the dog was to be neutered. They said they'd leave him for a trial period and would be in touch. Off they went and never returned...
The early days with Sam were nothing short of horrendous. He hated men, he was frightened of everything. He used to try to hide behind my legs and literally urinated himself in fear. He was terrified and spooked by everything. I couldn't get him to walk past the cash machine at the end of the street because he'd once heard it beeping and he was frightened of it. Any man who tried to speak to my gentle giant used to have him quivering in fear. It broke me some days with the sheer worry of the nervous and emotional states he could get into. This was on top of learning how to live in a house - like most racing dogs, my house was the first house he'd ever been in
Finally one day we were out on a walk. I dropped my keys between me and Sam so bent down to pick them up. Sam started screaming and threw himself onto his side. My bending down when he didn't expect it, frightened him and he must have thought I was going to harm him. I took him straight home and it took me ages to calm him (and myself) down - he just would not stop shaking.
In my naivity I thought something should be done because who ever had damaged my boy, needed some kind of justice. I was aware he'd come from a breeder in Ireland so phoned an Irish rescue for advice on what to do. The woman on the other end of the phone gave a tired laugh and told me that nothing ever happens to people who mistreat greyhounds because they're not pets but money makers. She told me to hang up, hug my boy and thank god that he was one of the few lucky ones. In those days, greyhounds as pets were so unusual let alone what little was known about the racing industry.
Initially I sat stunned. Surely this woman wasn't right - this didn't really happen did it? In the primitive days of Internet, I did a search and found a group called Greyhound Action. I made contact with Tony and Tony filled me in on the reality of greyhound racing worldwide. My conscience living with a hound who'd scream and run and hide in the corner if a man came to the house made me feel as if I was owe him to do something. I started doing stalls at local events and started some research myself on what was going on in Scotland. It was so much worse than I'd ever dreamed and the woman in Ireland that I'd spoken to was right - my boy was 'lucky' to have escaped with shattered nerves.
Then we became aware of plans for a greyhound track too close to home - Wallyford. The plans had gone in hidden amongst a housing development. By the time we became aware of it, it was nearly too late. We immediately launched a campaign and managed to bring the issue of greyhound racing to the local and national press. People were stopping me in the street when I was out with Sam asking me if I'd heard what was happening to these poor greyhounds who race.
Although the plans for Wallyford were passed, we were very delighted that the issue of greyhound racing and the plight of racing greyhounds in Scotland had reached national press and we had even gained political support and took our presentation into the Scottish Parliament
Around 2002, we had time to slow down and think about things. The reality is that a ban on greyhound racing in England would not be effective in Scotland as we have different legislation. Therefore we had to disband the Scottish branch of Greyhound Action and set up as an organisation in our own right - Greyhound Action Scotland. We shared the aims and goals of GA however we had to focus on the very specific issues such as the prominence of flapping tracks in Scotland and other issues which made Scotland very different from the racing scene in England. Our campaign had to lead a different path. We did, however, look to England regarding some legislation relating to betting because Westminster, unfortunately, has not yet agreed to us Scots having this as a devolved power.
Meanwhile the campaign went strength to strength. We did investigations into puppy auctions, 'killing fields', drugged greyhounds in Scotland, undercover work at tracks etc. However we reached a place with Sam where we accepted that the damage that was done to him in the name of "sport" was so far reaching, we would never fix his demons. By this time we had added to our pack of hounds and had five greyhounds at home along with a cat who ruled the roost. We stopped putting Sam in situations which would stress him. I'd walk him in the early hours so he wouldn't meet men or other dogs or have any of the other things that would stress him out.
Sam lived like that for many years. Happiest on the couch playing with one of his much loved teddies, or stealing whatever he could (underwear included!) with his best mate Tully. He never lost the cheeky streak. He was very placid and laid back. In his later years, he became less bothered about men he didn't know. He was always hysterical at other dog breeds of dog. He was chilled out at home and although he didn't have a life the way other dogs would have, he did appear to be happy. He always had an unnatural attachment to me though - he liked to see where I was at all times.
In recent years Sam developed arthritis. Some days he struggled but we took the decision to try to keep him as pain free as possible for as long as possible and when the time came, we'd make the decision. Sam was dealt a huge blow when his best mate Tully died on 11th October 2010 from bone cancer. He became quite subdued and more clingy.
A year ago tonight, Sam's leg started to swell up. I knew it wasn't good. He couldn't make it upstairs and because he was such a big dog, I couldn't carry him. Sam weighed around 44kgs. Sam and I slept curled up on a duvet on the floor.
The next day, I took Sam to our vet. She wanted to drain some of the fluid that built up so I agreed to an anesthetic for him. As I left the vets, I had this horrible sinking feeling. The vet called me an hour later. Sam was still sleeping but as they'd tried to drain the fluid, they found that their was a tumour in his wrist and suspected the bone cancer had spread. I always promised I'd never allow my gentle big boy to suffer. I made the decision to let him sleep on forever. I wanted to be with him when he left but the best for Sam was to let him go there and then so he didn't suffer another minute in a world where people exploited his breed for their amazing ability to run fast and so gracefully.
Sam has been gone a year now. He has left a huge hole in our hearts and life. His ashes are in the corner, where he always liked to be, along with his best mate Tully's ashes and Cleo-cats. I suspect the three of them would like to be cuddled up together.
Sam was the greyhound who was responsible for establishing a campaign in Scotland. He was responsible for us to be spurred on and he was responsible for making people aware. No one who met Sam, especially in those early days, could fail to be touched by how damaged he was. A human did this to Sam. Humans do this to greyhounds every day. For Sam, we need to do something about it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PadK5RB5mCs
Sam, 2/9/1998 to 11/12/2010
Just to clear up a few matters. Contrary to rumour, we've not lost interest and given up!
Greyhound Action Scotland has not been active for some months due to my health issues but it is very much an ongoing campaign in Scotland. Fortunately things have been relatively quiet while this has been going on.
The website is now down and it will be relaunched shortly in memory of a very special greyhound - the one who was responsible for it.
Today is the first anniversary of his death and I don't feel I can allow it to pass without finally telling his whole story. Its copied below.
It may be a while until we're fully up and running as normal but meantime, please get in touch if you need to.
CheersAmanda
Tel: 07795 514073 greyhoundactionscotland@btopenworld.com
In 2000, we decided to get a family dog. One of my friends told me she had heard greyhounds made great pets. I had a nice memory of my friends dads racing greyhound as a child so the idea grew on me. I made contact with one of the few greyhound 'rescues' around at the time. In retrospect, I discovered this was the welfare wing of the industry itself. This 'rescue' offered me a dog saying that he was in a bad way and his nerves were so bad that he was unable to race - he was petrified of men. His racing name was 'Funny Frank'. They arranged to bring him round the next again week.
On 9th June 2000, a couple arrived on my doorstep with the biggest dog I've ever seen. His name was Sam, he was 21 months and he was a bundle of nerves though was more than able to show a cheeky streak when it came to cuddly toys which he adored!
The couple were greyhound trainers and ran the local branch of the welfare wing. They explained although Sam had an unnatural attachment to the woman, he wouldn't let the man near him. He'd been brought over from Donegal with his sister and brother by a syndicate to race at Shawfield but because of the nervous condition of all three of them, none of them were ever able to race. Sam was the biggest greyhound they'd ever had and he was the fastest but they could do nothing with him due to his nerves.
Sam had previously been rehomed but handed back after the people let him off the lead within a day and he ran away. Sam also ate their tropical fish... I was 'last chance' for Sam and they told me that I should NOT get him neutered because if I handed him back, they'd 'send him to Ireland' for stud. They scored out the part on the adoption agreement which said that the dog was to be neutered. They said they'd leave him for a trial period and would be in touch. Off they went and never returned...
The early days with Sam were nothing short of horrendous. He hated men, he was frightened of everything. He used to try to hide behind my legs and literally urinated himself in fear. He was terrified and spooked by everything. I couldn't get him to walk past the cash machine at the end of the street because he'd once heard it beeping and he was frightened of it. Any man who tried to speak to my gentle giant used to have him quivering in fear. It broke me some days with the sheer worry of the nervous and emotional states he could get into. This was on top of learning how to live in a house - like most racing dogs, my house was the first house he'd ever been in
Finally one day we were out on a walk. I dropped my keys between me and Sam so bent down to pick them up. Sam started screaming and threw himself onto his side. My bending down when he didn't expect it, frightened him and he must have thought I was going to harm him. I took him straight home and it took me ages to calm him (and myself) down - he just would not stop shaking.
In my naivity I thought something should be done because who ever had damaged my boy, needed some kind of justice. I was aware he'd come from a breeder in Ireland so phoned an Irish rescue for advice on what to do. The woman on the other end of the phone gave a tired laugh and told me that nothing ever happens to people who mistreat greyhounds because they're not pets but money makers. She told me to hang up, hug my boy and thank god that he was one of the few lucky ones. In those days, greyhounds as pets were so unusual let alone what little was known about the racing industry.
Initially I sat stunned. Surely this woman wasn't right - this didn't really happen did it? In the primitive days of Internet, I did a search and found a group called Greyhound Action. I made contact with Tony and Tony filled me in on the reality of greyhound racing worldwide. My conscience living with a hound who'd scream and run and hide in the corner if a man came to the house made me feel as if I was owe him to do something. I started doing stalls at local events and started some research myself on what was going on in Scotland. It was so much worse than I'd ever dreamed and the woman in Ireland that I'd spoken to was right - my boy was 'lucky' to have escaped with shattered nerves.
Then we became aware of plans for a greyhound track too close to home - Wallyford. The plans had gone in hidden amongst a housing development. By the time we became aware of it, it was nearly too late. We immediately launched a campaign and managed to bring the issue of greyhound racing to the local and national press. People were stopping me in the street when I was out with Sam asking me if I'd heard what was happening to these poor greyhounds who race.
Although the plans for Wallyford were passed, we were very delighted that the issue of greyhound racing and the plight of racing greyhounds in Scotland had reached national press and we had even gained political support and took our presentation into the Scottish Parliament
Around 2002, we had time to slow down and think about things. The reality is that a ban on greyhound racing in England would not be effective in Scotland as we have different legislation. Therefore we had to disband the Scottish branch of Greyhound Action and set up as an organisation in our own right - Greyhound Action Scotland. We shared the aims and goals of GA however we had to focus on the very specific issues such as the prominence of flapping tracks in Scotland and other issues which made Scotland very different from the racing scene in England. Our campaign had to lead a different path. We did, however, look to England regarding some legislation relating to betting because Westminster, unfortunately, has not yet agreed to us Scots having this as a devolved power.
Meanwhile the campaign went strength to strength. We did investigations into puppy auctions, 'killing fields', drugged greyhounds in Scotland, undercover work at tracks etc. However we reached a place with Sam where we accepted that the damage that was done to him in the name of "sport" was so far reaching, we would never fix his demons. By this time we had added to our pack of hounds and had five greyhounds at home along with a cat who ruled the roost. We stopped putting Sam in situations which would stress him. I'd walk him in the early hours so he wouldn't meet men or other dogs or have any of the other things that would stress him out.
Sam lived like that for many years. Happiest on the couch playing with one of his much loved teddies, or stealing whatever he could (underwear included!) with his best mate Tully. He never lost the cheeky streak. He was very placid and laid back. In his later years, he became less bothered about men he didn't know. He was always hysterical at other dog breeds of dog. He was chilled out at home and although he didn't have a life the way other dogs would have, he did appear to be happy. He always had an unnatural attachment to me though - he liked to see where I was at all times.
In recent years Sam developed arthritis. Some days he struggled but we took the decision to try to keep him as pain free as possible for as long as possible and when the time came, we'd make the decision. Sam was dealt a huge blow when his best mate Tully died on 11th October 2010 from bone cancer. He became quite subdued and more clingy.
A year ago tonight, Sam's leg started to swell up. I knew it wasn't good. He couldn't make it upstairs and because he was such a big dog, I couldn't carry him. Sam weighed around 44kgs. Sam and I slept curled up on a duvet on the floor.
The next day, I took Sam to our vet. She wanted to drain some of the fluid that built up so I agreed to an anesthetic for him. As I left the vets, I had this horrible sinking feeling. The vet called me an hour later. Sam was still sleeping but as they'd tried to drain the fluid, they found that their was a tumour in his wrist and suspected the bone cancer had spread. I always promised I'd never allow my gentle big boy to suffer. I made the decision to let him sleep on forever. I wanted to be with him when he left but the best for Sam was to let him go there and then so he didn't suffer another minute in a world where people exploited his breed for their amazing ability to run fast and so gracefully.
Sam has been gone a year now. He has left a huge hole in our hearts and life. His ashes are in the corner, where he always liked to be, along with his best mate Tully's ashes and Cleo-cats. I suspect the three of them would like to be cuddled up together.
Sam was the greyhound who was responsible for establishing a campaign in Scotland. He was responsible for us to be spurred on and he was responsible for making people aware. No one who met Sam, especially in those early days, could fail to be touched by how damaged he was. A human did this to Sam. Humans do this to greyhounds every day. For Sam, we need to do something about it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PadK5RB5mCs
Sam, 2/9/1998 to 11/12/2010