The Amazing Greys
Pandemic lockdowns have seen a rise in greyhound adoption, but what’s it like to live with these gangly alien canines and why do people love them as much as they do?
If you live in Melbourne, chances are you’ve seen a greyhound or two. They’re quickly gaining a reputation as good pets for small spaces, but what’s it like to live with one, and what effect do their racing-industry origins have on their behaviour? Being a crazy greyhound person myself, I spoke to two other greyhound enthusiasts about the highs, lows and unexpected parts of living with a greyhound.
Happy as Larry
Greyhounds weren’t on the radar for my cousin Dr. Karina Smith, yoga instructor and doctor of Chinese medicine. Her small house/workspace and busy schedule meant she had little energy for a dog and its needs, but the idea of fostering appealed to her — it was low commitment if things didn’t work out. A friend connected her to Amazing Greys. Then she got a phone call: there were eight greyhounds in New South Wales that needed homes or they’d be euthanised. Could she foster one?
“He leapt out of the car, and I thought, ‘Oh my god, that’s a horse!’”
As Karina would later name him, Larry finished his last race on 27 May 2021 and was in her house two weeks later. “He leapt out of the car,” Karina says, “and I thought, ‘Oh my god, that’s a horse!’” Fifty kilograms of jacked-up racing muscle, Larry surveyed his surroundings and promptly released a litre of urine onto Karina’s backyard.
Registered greyhounds are somewhat traceable: plugging a racing name into a state’s database can tell you a dog’s genealogy, its racing record, where it was born and who registered it. From this, Karina was able to work out some details about Larry and infer others. She knows Larry’s whole litter raced and he performed the best — running 27 races and winning three — but, at two and a half years old, he was dumped the day of his last race in Broken Hill and somehow ended up in eastern New South Wales. Larry’s rump was rubbed bald on both sides, perhaps from sleeping on concrete or hessian. “I’d love to call up his breeder,” Karina says, “and say, ‘what happened?’” This story isn’t an uncommon one — from speaking to other greyhound owners, it seems many dogs are offloaded by breeders immediately after they finish their one to three year racing careers, and often dogs end up interstate.
Amazing Greys gave Karina an idea of what to expect with greyhounds: there’s the prey drive, chasing moving objects or animals; the difficulty coming back when called, the snapping that can happen when a greyhound is startled awake. “People have idealistic fantasies about owning a dog,” Karina says, “but you have to work to get to know each other.” Although Larry was very tolerant about being handled and didn’t hoard his food, there were other difficulties — he hadn’t been in a house before and freaked out at his reflection in windows. He also had intense separation anxiety and would bark when Karina was with clients. She had a few days in tears, unsure of what to do about Larry’s behaviour, thinking she couldn’t cope. “I want him to be independent,” Karina says, “but I’m his only companion.”
Until 2019, Victorian greyhounds had to wear muzzles in public unless they’d passed a behaviour test.
Taking Larry for walks presents other challenges, not only because of his background but because of public perception of greyhounds. Until 2019, Victorian greyhounds had to wear muzzles in public unless they’d passed a behaviour test. “I’m not ready for a dog fight,” Karina says. She took Larry to an off-lead park and stayed for a total of three minutes — a huge dog came at him and she thought he was going to bite in defence. She worries about the “what-ifs” with other dogs — greyhounds typically have 2% body fat and thin skin, so it’s easy for them to get injured.
Larry was only supposed to be with Karina for three months, but as he sprawled out in the middle of her lounge and napped, she sat beside him and thought, “I know I’m fostering, but I’m already in love with you.” When her three-month foster period was up, she had a phone call with Amazing Greys and signed the paperwork to make Larry’s adoption official.
For Karina, adopting a greyhound has a surprising community aspect, particularly with tips, support and dealing with greyhounds’ unique issues. “It’s not a community you’d get with designer dogs,” she says. This community aspect extends to her neighbourhood: Karina’s lived in the same area for six years but hadn’t really connected with anyone until she adopted Larry. “There’s something very beautiful about people letting their guard down when you have a dog.”
Dorothy
“There’s a uniquely shaped hole that only a greyhound can fill,” says Matt Goodrich, fellow Professional Writing and Editing student at the Royal Melbourne of Technology and two-time greyhound adopter. After his greyhound Penelope passed away, Matt and his partner Jen adopted Dorothy from Gumtree Greys. While Penelope had been adopted from GAP Victoria (Greyhound Racing Victoria’s affiliated Greyhound Adoption Program), Matt had concerns about the program. “I heard some things,” he says, “I feel like they’re in cahoots with the industry.”
The discovery of a greyhound mass grave three years after “Making a Killing” casts further doubt on improved welfare for greyhounds.
The greyhound racing industry is not kind to the animals who make their profits. Chief concerns include live baiting — training greyhounds by having them chase and attack small animals — doping, and the amount of greyhounds bred compared to the murky statistics of those who don’t race. Following ABC’s Four Corners 2015 expose, “Making a Killing”, state racing bodies promised reform to greyhound welfare, however, Gumtree Greys, the RSPCA and Animal Liberation Queensland don’t believe these reforms have been enacted. Some greyhound owners see GAP’s position as the industry’s official solution for unwanted greyhounds as positive PR for an industry that’s only had dubious improvement to greyhound welfare. The discovery of a greyhound mass grave three years after “Making a Killing” casts further doubt on improved welfare for greyhounds.
Matt is a little foggy about Dorothy’s past. He knows she’s five years old and raced, unfittingly, under the name Mayhem Express. Dorothy’s background becomes murkier post-racing: she ended up at the RSPCA and lived on a farm before returning, as apparently her owners couldn’t handle her prey drive. “I’m going to go on a rant here,” Matt says. I let him. It’s a universal greyhound owner experience, the anger at what’s shaped the traumas in your dog. Dorothy was very affectionate with people when Matt adopted her — “she made sure all four people in the room were well attended to,” he says — but he wonders if it’s an overcorrection. She has scarring on her right back leg that he thinks could be animal or dog-related and she would start yelping whenever anyone got too close or grabbed her collar.
Matt grew up around whippets and felt he knew what to expect from their larger relatives, but he still has issues taking Dorothy out in public. “There’s expectations from other owners,” he says, “they say, ‘why don’t you let your dog run free?’ I have to explain that it’s illegal.” Despite changes to muzzle laws, in Victoria it’s illegal to have a greyhound off-leash in a public space because of their speed and poor ability to come back when called. Matt often tells people that he has a large backyard but he still feels somewhat guilty: “I’d love nothing more than to let her run free.”
“Having responsibility for a living, breathing creature of awesomeness helps keep your daily routine…”
Matt sees having a greyhound as a social life support system: “Having responsibility for a living, breathing creature of awesomeness helps keep your daily routine, and responsibility is a very good thing for a human being to have.” Dorothy even acts as a social intermediary when Matt and Jen get into disputes. “We’ll say things to the dog,” he says, “in dog intonation, like–” his voice goes up half an octave “–‘what do you think about this, Dorothy?’” Dorothy is snuggly when he’s having a shit day, even with her rancid, room-clearing farts. “They fill you up with so much love and affection,” Matt says, “and fill up a house with the taps of their footsteps, their smells and fur everywhere.”
I’m going to sound theological,” Matt says, “but they’re something approaching a god to me — open, kind, compassionate beings that teach us to be good people. People who are quite twisted up inside can unravel in the presence of a greyhound.”
As I write this, I stare across at Pyre, my own greyhound, on her bed. She stares up at me and grips my leg with her paw. Adopting a greyhound comes with its unique difficulties, but greyhound owners, myself included, wouldn’t have it any other way.
