How I got started on this blog

When I heard that our grandson Neil had started a blog a year ago I had never heard of such a thing. But reading a few of funny things he wrote tempted me to write something that would interest my old clients.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly 

I had an email last week from a veterinary friend from Queensland.  I met him on two of the three trips I made to Australia after I retired during the nineties.  His name was John Murray.  I stayed with him and his partner Beverley Behm and I enjoyed their wonderful hospitality.  I had hoped that they would come to Yorkshire so that I could return their kindness.  It was not to be.  Poor Beverley died after a long and painful illness.  She had a way with greyhounds and trained many winners -- she is much missed.

I had been itching to go there for over forty years.  Jane and I wanted to go when we got married but our parents were not happy about losing us.  When we finally planned to go I was disappointed to be going alone.  Jane did not fancy the itinerary.  I also got a refusal from a few freinds who were interested in greyhounds.  For my first journey I was lucky to find the company of a dear friend called John McConnell.   He had a partner from Inishowen called Hugh Gill whose son Patrick is a close mate of our Warwick.  Together  John and Hugh had established a big business called Modern Plant Hire in Rugby.  John was a brave man to venture in my car on the 6,000 miles through Victoria and New South Wales with stops along the way wherever there was a greyhound track.  My interest in them was that in addition to their size and their sand surfaces they had other safety factors that reduced the injury rate associated with racing here.

When the sport was introduced there in a number of areas racing was staged over straight courses where injuries were virtually unknown.  Of all the those I visited I got most satisfaction from seeing racing on the lovely flat straights of Appin, Capalaba, Healesville, Kalpura, Wentworth and Wyong.  On all of those six I saw dogs weighing eighty pounds or more.  When I examined them many of them were completely sound showing no evidence of injury.  On British or Irish tracks I found a high incidents of injury in greyhounds weighing more than seventy pounds.  I have written many articles suggesting that breeders should have a financial incentive to breed from bitches weighing less than sixty pounds.  There was ample proof to support my views sixty years ago.  Many of the champion dogs under sixty five pounds and bitches under fifty five had long careers in the highest class.

The Aussies had a big country and consequently they were able to provide safer turns on their conventually shaped tracks than we could here in crowded Britain.  They were also able to have large circular tracks without any turn at all.

As a student in Dublin I thought that the Brits were mad about dogs.  When I first came to Britain after the war there were many Irish trainers and kennel men living with the dogs at the track kennels.  Their wages were painfully low. They were there because of their love for the dogs.  I was surprised to see that few others were concerned about the injured.  At the majority of venues there was no veterinary cover.  The injured were treated or put to sleep by the senior trainers.  When the going was dangerous in very cold or wet weather the greyhounds had to race.  A trainer who withdrew a runner out of concern for its welfare risked a servere penalty or dismissal without notice.  One of the kindest trainers I ever worked for was Charlie Lister OBE.  I often saw the tears of him and his late wife Valerie when they had one injured.  One evening in 2001when Charlie had two injured at Milton Keynes he was so upset that he withdrew two others.  The NGRC showed their sympathy by robbing him of £500.  

At tracks where a vet was employed he/she did not have the authority to cancel the meeting.  I learnt this when employed at my local track in freezing fog one evening  in 1957.  The hare driver could not see sufficiently to keep it at a safe distance in front of the runners and some of them sustained injuries to their legs.  For the next race he tied a flash lamp to the hare.  When that fell off the greyhounds again overtook it and only then was racing abandoned.  I reported the incident to the stipendiary steward - an ex Colonel.  All that happened was that the secretary of the NGRC was invited out for a meal by the promoter -- and I got the sack.

At that time I was na-ive enough to think that all of us would abide by our oath to give priority to the welfare of our patients.   The nearest vet  to me telephoned that he had taken my job because he could not leave the track without veterinary cover.    I thanked him for enlightening me because I knew some who took jobs because the salary enabled them to employ an extra colleague.    I was always in favour of a vet being employed at tracks and having authority to pass the surface as safe.   The NGRC did not insist on any such rule before '90.  They just did not have the power.

There used to be over two hundred tracks in Britain and the majority were independent.  In the early years of the sport the Greyhound Express covered the racing at Hackney independent track as well as that at all the NGRC tracks.  The NGRC threatened the Editor that they would withhold their programmes if he was to continue covering any independents.  Consequently all these had to stuggle to operate at a gross disadvantage.

 Olympic Horses and a Donkey called Whisky 



When I had a photograph in my blog of the child Rodrigo Pessoa with the sapling that his Dad selected at my kennels I should have mentioned that the first time I saw the adult Rodrigo was on television in 1992.  He was competing in the Olympic games in Barcelona and I was proud to see that he was on an Irish horse called Special Envoy.  Rodrigo's Dad Nelson had purchased him in Kilkenny after Marion Hughes had schooled and ridden him with success in competitions.

"Special Envoy was a remarkable horse, the first horse I mounted in the main GPs, he launched me in the great international circuit. I did my first World Championship with him, my first Olympics. I was lucky to have had many quality horses, but should I have to choose one, it would have to be him, for launching me in the great competitions." Rodrigo Pessoa

Rodrigo & Special Envoy '94

I myself never owned a racehorse but was brought up with riding ponies and horses and with horses that worked on the farm.  I also had donkeys from the time when I was four years of age I remained fond of them throughout my life.  They were humble creatures and willing workers.  They did not always receive the appreciation and care they deserved.  On visits abroad I sometimes saw them being ridden by men who were a stone or two too heavy for them in my opinion.  Some had hooves that were in need of trimming.  Others had sores resulting from ill fitting harness and others had homemade bits that hurt their lips.  As a vet I always felt a moral obligation to help creatures suffering abuse - free of charge -  because of ignorance or poverty of the owners.

After our children were able to walk Jane and I got a donkey.  We were on holiday in Galway with friends called Cecil and Molly Colahan.  They borrowed a donkey from a neighbour so that our eldest boy Walter could learn to ride it.  On the first evening it started to rain and Walter felt sorry for 'Whisky' as he was called, standing in the field with water dripping off his whiskers.  The only empty shed had been used for poultry and the dung on the floor was three feet deep.  Next morning Walter refused to come to the seaside with us.  He wanted to stay at home and clean the shed.  When we returned in the evening we were amazed to find a big mound outside the hen house and clean bedding scattered on the floor!  Whisky became more loved as the days passed.  On our last day tears were shed at the thought of leaving him behind.  Cecil went to the owners to know what would tempt them to part with him.  He returned with the news -- the price would be £3 and 10 bob back for luck!  When Jane asked how could we get him over to Rugby Cecil said it would be no problem. He would take him to Dublin in his trailer next week and add him to polled cattle in a wagon for a £1.  Indeed if he met a trainer taking a horse for a race the donkey would be welcome as company in the wagon.  Donkeys are noted for preventing horses getting worried and becoming seasick. 

Whisky became a popular attraction to people passing our field .  His he-hawing could be heard for a mile in all directions and parents were forced to bring kids to see him.  The older ones wanted a ride and Whisky was quiet and obliging.  When alone during daylight he would at intervals stop grazing and bray for a minute before looking to the west for another minute as if he was listening for a reply from some of his mates away over in Galway.   When I mentioned this possibility to Walter he suggested we should get another donkey.  From the shape of Whisky's teeth I knew he was well into his twenties when he came into our lives in '57.  As I had known one who died at 39 I felt no urgency about replacing him.   He remained healthy and mobile for three years until he died suddenly.   Then I asked my good friend and client Dan Horgan to look for a good looking sound in -foal mare under five years of age on his travels in Cork.   I heard nothing for 3 months.  It was December 20 '63 when I got the telegram :- "Your order is at Rugby station in the morning."  We decided to ask our good neighbour and farmer Mr Cummins to collect her and hide her until early on Xmas day so that the children would get a surprise when they woke up.

We called the donkey Maeve after the great Queen Maeve of Connaught said to have fought a war against Cuchulainn and his Ulster troops.  In the photo below you can see what a noble creature she was.  She is the one on the end ridden by the proud little girl.  She was the quietest, strongest and kindest of all the donkeys we had.  Mr Horgan once sent us twelve in a big lorry for local people who fancied having one of their own.  One of them had a non-painful condition called stringhalt in a hind leg.  Our good neighbours Lord and Lady Marsh  were among those who had given us an order.  I gave them first pick from the 12.  Lady Marsh was kind and sympathetic and chose the one that I thought might be difficult to sell.  Ten years later when she had moved to Goodwood we were invited to a day at their races.  We were glad to see the one with the limp enjoying retirement with a racehorse in a comfortable stable. 

My Jane was passionate about children. I helped her organise a sports day in aid of the handicapped every summer.  We had total support from friends like Bill and Nuala Mannion,  John Black, John McConnell, Mr Cummins, Keith & Mary Judge, Bill & Jane Bagshaw, John & June Meikle,  Bill & Geoff Dickens, Ray & Shirley Wisdom, Frank Russell, Ted & Daphne Townsend, the Boxers Johnny Williams, Billy Barber and Joe Leeming and many more. 

For  Maeve's first public appearance we put her with her foal in a tent and charged adults sixpence for seeing them.  The sports programme included donkey races with a change of jockeys after each race.  Attendances increased every year until our 3-acre field could not accommodate all the vehicles.  Luckily we got permission to move it to Rugby Town's football ground.  We were supported by members of the Town Council, the Police, St Johns Ambulance, the Dental and Medical professions and the Irish Club with their pipe and drum band.  Before moving away to Goodwood Lady Marsh used to declare the shows open.    Ted Williams used to leave his horses for the day so that he could come and judge the donkeys in the show classes and act as starter for the races.  Ted was assisted by Noel Cantwell, the great full back who cost United £29,000 - what was then a record price for a defender.  A few years later after he had captained them to win the FA Cup in '63 Noel and Maggie with the  melodious voice and their three children had become welcome visitors to our home. I always looked forward to hearing Maggie singing "The Hills of Donegal."  We can never forget the cruel tragedy they suffered after moving to Peterborough -   Robert their lovely boy was killed in a car accident at the age of twenty.

Another famous footballer who later swelled the crowd and acted as a judge for us was Alex Stepney.  This great goalkeeper  was chauffeured to Rugby by a great friend I had in Manchester called Jimmy Smith.   Jimmy raced many greyhounds at Belle Vue.

15 DONKEYS OUTSIDE MY SURGERY



This is the King who sired many foals for us.  He was a stylish trotter in the trap. 





  


Memories of friends that were not so lucky

Memories of friends that were not so lucky

One of the saddest aspects of old age is thinking of friends I have lost who were really honest, truthful and kind and whose lives included tragedy or were relatively short.  I already mentioned the two Doohan cousins I lost when I was a child. I also told you of a great pal John Sweeney who cycled to Dublin with me and died young.  As I grew up I was also friendly with another cousin called Eddie Roarty.  His Mother, Cassie, was sister to my Dad and lived in Falcaragh. Like Aunt Maggie she too was kind to me and my brothers and sisters.  During my final months at school I called daily on my way home to get an hour's grind from Eddie which helped me get a scholarship to St Eunans at Letterkenny.  The school master Martin Kelly was from Galway and he had a son called Kieran who played football with me for Falcaragh and St Eunans. Kieran became County Engineer for Meath and we remained friends until his death ten years ago.

My Dad was friendly with the few local Prodestant families.  He thought they were all honest.  He employed a local lad called Tommy Allcorn to work on our farm and he lived in our house.  Another Predestant family were the Smullens.  I was friendly with their two boys John and James.  Mr Smullen dealt in horses and sometimes left a few to graze on our fields.  I used to enjoy having a ride on those that I fancied.  When war broke out John told me that he was joining the British forces.  I wanted to go with him but my parents insisted on me remaining at the veterinary school until I qualified.  While I was happy in safe and peaceful Dublin I was shattered when to hear that poor John was killed in Italy.  My cousin Eddie who also joined up was captured in France.  He spent years as a prisoner of war.  On release he was in poor health and died young.

Wheatfield Rocket and a mad dash to Ramsgate

Mrs Pessoa told me of how clever Jack was.  I sometimes wondered how he would have fared on the track if I had kept him and would he have been too clever to chase a mechanical hare.  I did give his sibling a few trials on the track but he got injured and never had a race.  His Dad-Wheatfield Rocket was a very genuine runner in a brief racing carear.  Most of the races he ran in were on the independents.  I well remember his first under rules at about 18 months of age. It was an open puppy race at Dagenham.  The favourite was King Conquer an expensive puppy purchased by George Flintham in Ireland and trained by Jimmy Jowet at Clapton.  I led my fellow around the track so that he would not be fazed by the noise of the crowd.  He was ripping at the lid trying to open it.  When it did open he flew out and led all the way.  A great friend of mine called John Black from the banks of Lough Neagh, our biggest lake, was with me and backed him at 10/1.  I was putting Rocket back in the car when I saw John coming running with two thieves after him.  I yelled for help from the driver of a another van.  He was a big bloke with a stick.  The two little thieves gave up and John was able to get into my car with his winnings. 

I was keen on hurdle racing and I schooled Rocket over a pair of jumps that I made.  I used to take them with the dog in the van and go to Hinkley and Peterborough for trials.  The managers there, Joe Grant and Rex Perkins, were very obliging and generous with their time and my friend Jack West often came with me to help.  For his first hurdle race I entered Rocket for Hall Green on a Saturday.  They did not accept him--  he had no race form -- but they took him as a reserve.  On the morning there was a withdrawl and I got a phone call to bring Rocket along.  I could not fancy him as he was in against four old experienced hurdlers but he jumped over the first in front and stayed there!  John had a tenner on him and was as pleased as if it was a tonne.



Jack West





I had also tried to get him in a race at Ramsgate on the Monday but there again he was taken only as a reserve.  When it came to midday without the phone ringing I did not expect to be travelling. Then at one o`clock the call came.   I did not fancy the long journey alone.  John worked in a car factory ten miles away in Coventry.  I drove there without delay hoping he would get a half day off.  By the time we got through London we should have been kenneling the dog.  Instead we were still 50 miles away.  Just after Sittingbourne a lorry in front of us threw up a stone which smashed my windscreen.  I could see nothing.  Quick as lightning John took off his jacket and put it around his fist.  Instantly he smashed a hole through which I could see.  I remember the cold wind on my face as we pressed on as fast as possible.  As we entered the car park we could hear the hare going round and hoped it was not for our race.  An official came rushing out to meet us saying if you are Mr Sweeney come in quickly till I weigh your dog; you're in the next race.

 As I was approching the traps with Rocket I heard a bookmaker shout 6/1 Wheatfield.  The favourite for the race was a fast son of Ballymac Ball called Doran trained by Barney O`Connor for the famous Chandlers at Walthomstow .  On Saturday this experienced hurdler had broken the track record at White City and here he was drawn in trap one.  Our fellow was in three.  When the traps opened the two dogs came away together and took off simultaneously.  Rocket jumped high and to the left.  When he landed he had grabbed the rails position. He kept his advantage and stayed close to the rails and won in a photo! 

He was one of the most determined and genuine runners I ever had.  Sadly he had a fatal injury all too soon.  That was the most depressing aspect of owning greyhounds.  The tight turns caused many injuries particulaly to the wrists and hocks of the faster ones.  The slower and smaller were subjected to much less stress.  After losing a hundred of my own dogs I began preaching and writing about the need for circular tracks with bigger radii.  In thirty five years of racing the only track on which I raced greyhounds without incurring an injury was West Ham.  The turns there had a radius of 58 metres.  The other factor in trauma was the surface.  In the early days I remember peat on four or five but all the others had turf.  In wet weather the grass became cut up along the inner rail.  It was chuned into mud which offered no grip.  In dry sunny weather it became rock hard and did not allow the claws to grip.  In frosty weather it was not uncommon for promoters to scatter peat on the turns and commence racing.  Runners who came off lame might have toes dislocated or fractured or have nails ripped out.  Complaints from racegoers caused meetings to be abandoned but rarely before the fifth race had been run --so that entrance money would not have to be refunded.  I raced on three tracks where there was a canopy to protect the surface from heavy rainfall.  These were the original Crayford, Gosforth in Newcastle and Liverpool's White City.

About 1960 I learned that tracks elsewhere -- throughout the world - used sand and I began writing about its advantages.  Initially its reception was cool.  The first real supporter I had was the man I called Mr Greyhound.  He was the Tipperary genius Pat Dalton.  Apart from his experiences in Ireland he was successful with his runners at the bigger USA tracks.  He had crossed the Atlantic more often than anyone I know.  Like all great men he could not have got where he was without his great wife Ellen, their daughter and three boys.  The first British promoter to use sand was Tom Stanley of Rayleigh after seeing it while on holiday in Las Palmas.  When I heard of Tom's venture I telephoned him and entered a coursing dog I was training for Norman Donaldson of Morpeth called Curraroe.  I was quite impressed with what I saw.  Without a trial the dog handled the turns on the sand comfortably and won in a close finish.  In Britain the first of my clients to be interested was Joe Hayden of Coventry.  When he read my first article in praise of it I had three of his most expensive purchases in my hospital undergoing surgery.  He came and had a chat with me about how he could help to persuade promoters to change to sand. I put  a weekly advertisment -- SAND THOSE BENDS!!  in the Sporting Life and Joe paid for them.  The first promoters that we
converted were Leo Craven of Kings Heath and Bob Beckett of Bletchley.  This independant track was later called Milton Keynes.

Pat Dalton



Curraroe was one of the greatest dual purpose greyhounds I trained.  He had great conformation and he was very intelligent.  He was honest on the track but he never chased with the same enthusiasm that he showed in the field.  He made a great impression at Altcar in the '70 Waterloo Cup.  He had been hard run when he faced the eventual winner Rodney Magnet in the fourth round and only just failed to get the flag.  He was a great character in the kennels and very popular with my staff.  He was the only dog who gave the impression that he was laughing when we greeted him.  He was a great traveller and slept all the way to the tracks.  My boys often talk of him as "Marty".