Adopting - what you need to know

Its been some time since we adopted Lottie and Bomber and I'd forgotten just how much we'd adjusted to them, and how much they'd changed to accommodate us.

This was abruptly bought home a short while ago when a friend decided to adopt a greyhound.

It didnt go well. After only 24 hours, the poor hound was returned back to Greyhounds as pets. This got me thinking. Perhaps their expectations were not terribly realistic, after all the dog needed time to adjust to its new home, and they needed time to adjust to life with a greyhound.

It might also have been a matter of the hound not being a good match to their lifestyle, but either way, I'd have hung in there for just a little longer than a mere 24 hours.

Thinking back and reading earlier blog posts, Im probably not being totally fair. We'd had a few minor mishaps both with Lottie (the Brindle Rocket, or insinkerator) and our big black boy, Bomber (tinklebert woofledink). Looking at them both curled up snoozing the sun after an afternoon stroll, It seems so utterly implausible that these two laid back  hounds could have created any mayhem at all, yet it did happen.

This said, I am so glad that we persevered. We now have two excellent hounds who are not only fast friends with each other but are also our best buddies too.

So what lessons we can take out of this:

Greyhounds take time to settle in - Most ex racing hounds have  never lived in a household before (it took Lottie and Bomber ages before they could master the stairs and other rudimentary household things). There's a huge difference between being a racing dog and a pet.

They're also sensitive wee creatures - telling off a greyhound can leave you feeling like a complete monster, even when you know you're in the right and that the hound has been naughty. Greyhounds are very sensitive dogs and are incredibly intelligent. Telling them off usually results in being given the "stink eye" and feeling guilty - even though you know you've done the right thing. We try encourage positive behaviour with rewards and praise whenever possible.

Perfection takes time and some work - From the get-go we decided that we'd train both Lottie and Bomber. We were also lucky to have such an amazing obedience class trainer, Shelly who  gets Greyhounds and has an uncanny ability to teach dogs and their owners. This said, before obedience neither Lottie or Bomber knew how to sit and a whole lot of other things we now take for granted. We put the time in and did the obedience work (it wasn't really work - it was an incredible amount of fun) and now have two (mostly) well behaved dogs. The moral here is that you get out of a pet is exactly what you put in to start with.

So if you're looking to adopt a greyhound, don't be put off. They're amazing dogs that'll reward you both as a pet and as a companion. The greyhound community is fantastic and we've met some  great fellow greyhound owners. 

If you're thinking about adopting a greyhound, remember the following:

Be realistic - set some realistic expectations - there will be the odd bump in what is a usually smooth road with your new hound. These typically happen in the first few months as your newly adopted greyhound adjusts to its new life and works out just where the boundaries lie. 

Be practical - if you lead a chaotically busy life, have kids and/or cats think about the practicalities involved with adopting a greyhound.  A greyhound won't automatically slot in with your lifestyle, and you'll probably need to make a few changes. Make sure any hound you adopt is a good fit to your lifestyle - adopting a hound that has separation anxiety is never going to work if they're being left at home while you are out at work. 

Its a 2-way street - don't expect the hound to do all the adjusting, your lifestyle has to change too. Ask yourself, BEFORE you adopt, are you prepared to make the required changes, remember that the changes are often for the better. Realistically there will be times when you need to take a long term view.

Be Patient - All good things take time, including training and getting a routine set up for your new hound. Look at the big picture and things should work out wonderfully, even if you do have the odd hiccup along the way.

Do the time - This is a biggie. If you own a cat and have adopted a cat trainable greyhound dont expect instant harmony. Cat trainable means the hound can be taught to live with cats. This will take some work but the results are definitely worth it as many a cat owning greyhound owner will attest. 

Love - Most important of all, greyhounds need affection and love. Its a great investment that they'll pay back tenfold with loyalty, laughter and smiles and affection. 

Cult of the Greyhound

The Oxford online dictionary defines Greyhounds as

“A person or thing that is popular or fashionable among a particular group or section of society: the series has become a bit of a cult in the UK”

I bet that the Oxford Don who authored the above is in fact a Greyhound owner. 

You see in a cult there’s a group of people whose aim is furthering an agenda or purpose. In the case of Greyhound ownership it involves being besotted with ones hound. 

The funny thing is that after a year or so with Lottie (aka the brindle rocket) and Bomber (aka the black piddler), I've happily come to accept the fact that I am now a member of the cult of the Greyhound.

Nothing quite prepares you for membership. It usually happens not long after adopting an ex-racing Greyhound and opens up a whole new doggie perspective that connects with a group of fellow cult members who're equally mad about their hounds.  

Greyhound owners tend to have a their own language for anything relating to their dog’s behaviour. I sometimes forget this when talking to non cult members. I often get mystified looks or raised eyebrows as I talk about derping roaching and rooing.

The cult pervades your social life. There's a heap of  events like BBQs, walks and other events all organised by our rather amazing GAP (greyhounds as pets) co-ordinator, Sally. 

At these you’ll meet fellow cult members. You’ll also  spend an entire afternoon talking about your hounds and this is completely normal, even expected.  

There is a good reason for this. There's something indescribable about Greyhounds. They exude a calming demeanor and stillness that make them dead easy to be around. 

Their ears are like a crazy circus show that can’t make up its mind which act is next. Then there's their ultimate weapon – their deep brown soulful eyes. 

Non-pet owners often see animals as chattels. I think they only need look a Greyhound in the eyes to realise just how wrong they've been. There’s more soul in a greyhounds eyes than the entire contents of a footwear factories annual output.  

Oh and did I mention that Greyhounds are amazingly cute? 

I am of course unashamedly biased, but this is also borne out each  time we take Lottie and Bomber for a walk around town. We usually end up getting stopped by heaps of people. Most want to know if they are ex racing dogs, many simply ask if they can have a quick pat. (Greyhound fur is also incredibly soft)

Their effect on humans hasn’t entirely escaped the attentions of Lottie and Bomber who know all too well how effective a hold they have over us, their human servants. 

It isn’t that unusual to see fellow cult members buying designer coats, collars and PJs plus treats for their hounds, often spending more money on their Greyhounds than they’d usually spend on their own wardrobe. 

Perhaps the best part of being a member of the cult of the Greyhound (dogs aside) though is the people. If we have a question about our hounds, we’re usually inundated with answers and support. We’ve made some amazing friends. 

So if you’re considering a dog as a pet and want one without the health issues that plague most purebreeds, consider an ex-racing Greyhound. By adopting you're making a huge difference and If you’re not 100% sure, you can foster to adopt. 

Once you join the cult, your life will change completely - and for the better.

Greyhound Names

Whats in a name?

It turns out that with greyhounds there's plenty. 

Take our two adopted hounds for instance. By day our 5 year old brindle girl's handle is Lottie and our black 4 year old boy goes by the name of Bomber. 

The thing with retired racing greyhounds is that they often have several names. For a start there's their racing names. Then there's a kennel name and more often than not a demented pet name given to them by their loopy adopted owners (that's us). 

This shouldn't be a big deal, but Lottie's racing name was Lotto Profit - Its not exactly a great pet name. Imagine trying to recall her by yelling "come here Lotto profit!"  

Doesn't work does it?

Her Kennel name was Prof, an abbreviation of profit. It was still not a great name, so we renamed her Lottie as soon as we adopted her. It sounds close enough to her racing name that she didn't have to work hard to learn it. Her name was also one easier to learn as she was already dealing with learning to climbing stairs, and not running into sliding doors).

If it stopped there it'd be fine. Like most greyhound adopters we soon came up with a bunch of silly names as her goofy yet extremely loveable personality began to surface.

Lotties first silly name was Brindle Rocket. After all she zooms off like a rocketship when running with other hounds and she was of course Brindle. This was soon followed by the equally silly name of Insinkerator, named after her waste disposal-like tendencies. Other silly names have tended to be rhyming plays on Lottie such as blottie B. She loves them all and responds to all of them with equal enthusiam.

Bomber is a little more straightforward. His racing name was Lochinvar Elle. It turns out that Lochinvar is the small town in New South Wales, Australia where he came from). 

Either way it's not exactly something you'd be yelling out at a dog park either.

Given he loves being super full-on like his dad (who's racing name was bombastic shiraz), his given kennel name was Bomber. 

We didn't change it because it's suits him, he is a bomber - he'll dive into anything that looks fun.

Then there's his silly pet name. Being a boy dog he pees on everything when he's out for a walk. 

His Tardis-like bladder (larger on the inside than the outside) makes for a far longer walks than you'd think, and a super silly pet name.  

Based on his sprinkler like propensities I call him Tinklebert Woofledink. Yeah I know its just silly - Once again, not a name that we'd use at the dog park.

So there you have it, greyhounds and names, who'd have thought?

 What crazy nicknames do you use for your pets?  Do share.    

730 madness

Greyhounds have a reputation for being total couch potatoes.

Its all true. At least until 7:30pm

Ours will sit and snooze for hours and only need 30-40 minutes of walks a day.

But at 7:30pm all bets are off.

Lottie (our brindle girl greyhound) goes completely bonkers at precisely 7:30pm.

Things usually kick off with a brief "wuff" and a play bow (where she'll lean down on her front paws and eyeball her intended playmate in an invitation to play).

Accepting her play invite usually results in some pretty hilarious antics. Most funny of all are Greyhound spins.

Greyhounds are incredibly fast and graceful animals, but when they get really excited they love to do high-speed spins. The more spins Lottie does the loopier she seems to get.

She'll chase, play and spin for for all of about 10 minutes and then just as suddenly as she starts, she stops and its back to more sedate snoozing for the rest of the evening.

This is both incredibly cute and pretty darned hilarious The really funny thing is that this happens like clockwork at precisely 7:30 most evenings. Who'd have thought greyhounds could keep such precise time?

Our Dog Unfriendly Council

What a night! I was out walking Bomber, our big black boy greyhound when two small Jack Russell puppies who were about 20 metres ahead wandered out onto a busy road. There was no human, they weren't on a lead. Traffic swerved and the puppies were unhurt, wisely deciding that the footpath was a safer bet.

Heart in mouth I approached and the two pups who thankfully came over to sniff Bomber. I grabbed their collars and crossed the road along with poor Bomber.

So far so good - at least until one of the puppies started to try and wriggle out of his collar and my grip. Bomber began to get stressed. With two high energy small dogs and one stressed out Greyhound I was wondering what on earth to do next.

All I knew was that these dogs wouldn't last another 5 minutes on this busy road.

Thankfully a passer by kindly stopped and offered to help. An extra set of hands makes handling canine carnage just that so much more easier.

Then I called the council.

Both dogs had collars and one had registration tags. I was hoping the council would be able to track down their owners via the registration tag number and arrange for them to call me to pick up their escape artist dogs.

Note - I wasn't wanting to obtain the owners contact details, I was however willing to give out my mobile number or address details out so I could do the right thing by these poor pups.

No such luck. For some crazy reason the council had to call out a dog handler based on the other side of town. The handler would take 20-40 minutes to get to my location and the council wanted to know if I'd be able to stay put with the dogs until they arrived.

Exasperated I explained that I had two high energy escape artist pups and one increasingly irritated Greyhound plus an bitterly cold southerly was closing in . Making matters even more complex, I only had one dog lead. Waiting that long on a windy and soon to be rainy busy street simply wasn't going to work.

The poor council  receptionist explained that contacting the dogs owners based on the pups registration tag info simply wasn't allowed and that council policy meant that she couldn't access the relevant databases. Policy was policy and rules had to be obeyed, no matter how batshit crazy they were.

Thankfully the  kind person who stopped to help had a handbag whose shoulder strap could clip onto both collars to act as an impromptu lead. We agreed to take the pups back to my place which was dog proofed and wait for the animal control officer to turn up.

Eventually the dog control officer (who was a very decent chap who happened to be stuck in the middle of doing a very difficult job) arrived, picked up the pups and took them to the dog pound.

This sad situation is appalling on too many levels to name.

The councils reluctance to contact the dogs owners and pass my contact details is just bizzare.

Consider what happened instead:

A dog handler had to travel for 20-30 minutes across town and pick the dogs up. How much time and money wasted with that exercise is bound to add up when multiplied across the sheer number of call outs the council must get.

That the dogs were then deposited in the pound for their owners to hopefully pick up later must also be deeply distressing for the dogs and expensive for their owners.

What really galls me is that the simple common sense option of putting the dogs owners in direct contact with me so they could pick up their dog at zero cost to the council wasn't allowed.

Now our already over crowded dog pound has two more dogs to deal with and a sizeable amount of time and money that needn't have been spent in the first place was wasted.

Isn't it awesome to see ratepayer funds put to such good use?

So what learnings are there?

1) Get engraved name tags for your dogs - this way good Samaritans can call you directly instead of getting wrapped up in the bureaucratic nonsense that is the Wellington City Council.

2) Get your dogs microchipped - that way even if they slip their collars dogs can still be reunited with you

3) Triple check your section for dog proofing. These wee jack Russells were total escape artists, but sealing off that hole in the fence that may have seemed too small or too hidden could have prevented this situation from happening in the first place.

4) Don't blame the owners - accidents can happen and even the most conscientious owners can own sneaky dogs.

5) Do get involved. If you see strays, stop and help. Just don't expect the council to be all that flexible. Your actions can mean the difference between life and death for a dog.

What is wrong with people?

What an interesting day. My wife as out walking Lottie and Bomber this morning and was accosted by a man about our dogs daring to pee on the street in front of his house.

Thankfully my wife can handle herself. The guy ranted at her about how disgusting he thought it was and asked how we'd feel if he peed outside our gate.

He'd obviously never been out in the wee hours of a Friday night and seen what drunks do when they've had too many pints and their bladders are bulging.

My wife dished up an XXL serving of sarcasm and said "well I'm deeply sorry", turned on her heels and walked off - hopefully leaving this man feeling like the complete and utter tool that he obviously was.

Last year when we first got Lottie, someone also left a typed note in our letterbox saying "please clean up after your dog"

This was particularly galling as we like to think of ourselves as responsible dog owners and we carry biodegradable plastic bags designed specifically for picking up after our dogs. Bizarrely this seemed to be neither here nor there to our ill informed anonymous note writer.

The funny thing is I do sympathise with the note writer to some degree. There is nothing quite as gross as stepping in some particularly pungent dogshit. Cleaning up after ones dog isn't terribly onerous nor is it particularly difficult to do. It is something we've done from day 1 and will continue to do.

Dogs peeing however is something we have little control over.

What I take issue with is cowardly nature of both people. If I'd been walking the dogs with my wife would this gentleman have approached us? I doubt it. As for dropping anonymous notes in our letterbox, that is simply beneath contempt.

So lets ask the question - if dogs peeing (Lottie tends to discretely pee in the gutter) on the street was banned, where would dogs go to spend the canine equivalent of a penny?

Would we need to fit them with daipers? Perhaps the council could set up public dog urinals and offer dogs special training sessions on how to use them??

Clearly this is an issue that will polarise people and there is no single simple answer. As a dog owner I get that. What I don't get is the completely gutless and tactless way that some people have chosen to communicate the issue.

New Zealand has a reputation as being a clean and green place that is safe and easy to live in. Our attitudes towards animals however is terrible. The more I know about people, the more I like my dogs.

Parting is such sweet sorrow

Its been a crazy month travel-wise. One of the occupational hazards with being a freelance journalist (we in the trade call it flea ranching on account of the awful or non existent pay) is frequent overseas trips. Over the last 6 weeks I've spent time in Melbourne, Sydney, Hong Kong and Korea.

While the air-points are great, the big downside is having to say goodbye to loved ones as I jump on a plane and head away. Lottie and Bomber, my greyhounds don't really know what is going on until I get my suitcase out.

Once they've cottoned on, all bets are off and they tend to do one of two things. Depending on their mood they'll either get clingy and not let me out of their sight or they'll decide that I am persona non grata and will ignore me right up until I leave.

Leaving is the hardest thing. The saying goes that people who don't believe animals have souls should look into a Greyhounds eyes. It is even harder to do when you've got your passport in your pocket and have just said goodbye to your wife as a taxi is waiting. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't shed the odd tear when saying goodbye to Lottie and Bomber and seeing the "don't go!" look in their gentle brown eyes.

Being away is even harder. Thankfully my wife is amazing and emails photos of Lottie and Bomber.

If there's an upside it is this. Getting home is nothing short of brilliant.

Getting to the front door with luggage in tow, the sound that greets me once Lottie or Bomber spy me through a window is that of hysterical dog excitement.

Opening the front door I am greeted with two furry tornadoes complete with whip like tails that have more in common with a helicopter rotor. Licks and frantic cries of happiness ensue - Lottie and Bomber even make some of the noise.

Perhaps being away isn't always such a bad thing as it reminds you about what is so special at home.