A Return Home

During my long life I have been fortunate to have had a number of real family friends.   In August 2015  I enjoyed being home in Donegal at a gathering which included many relatives.   Having the company of my Jane, our sons Warwick and Simon with his wife Lyn made it a really memorable week.   It was actually the second of such events. The first was organised ten years ago by enterprising members of the famous Doohan family from Drumnatinney in Donegal who had emigrated to New York for a better life. Warwick and I felt lucky to be invited to that original and unique week.  This recent one was equally enjoyable and it seems likely that it will not be the last.

The great family of fourteen were born to James from the Rosses and Maggie who was one of my Dad's sisters.  The one I knew best was called Bridget or Birdie because she wheeled me in my pram to the strand until I was a year old.

That strand, known as the Back Strand, with its sand dune banks, clean white sand, and fabulous views out to Tory Island, is still there, almost totally unchanged, near Drumnatinney where I was born. There is no building, no caravans, no cafe, and no shops. The only addition has been a life saving ring tied to a post.

My good Dad and Mama slaved and made many sacrifices to rear and educate my three younger brothers, two sisters and myself . Three months before I qualified from the Vet college the sudden death of our wonderful Dad was a bitter blow to our dear mother and every one of us.

Dad had been a life-long supporter of Britain, but he had a brother, a priest, who rarely agreed with him.  He called on us a few months after the war with Hitler started. British troops had sustained heavy losses and the holy one took pleasure in forecasting that the Swastika would soon be hanging in London. I still remember Dad grabbing his arm, pulling him off the chair and kicking him out the door onto the street.

At the time Dad died, Tony was on the Medical course at Trinity, Ted was at the Veterinary College, Owen was giving his life for the Church, and Eileen was also studying. Carmel was working in a chemist's shop so that she could earn enough to support the family. Mama decided that it made economic sense for her to buy a wee house in Dublin and move there where Carmel was working.

Whenever we went over to Donegal we often stayed with Mary and Danny in Cashelnagor. Danny would play wonderful music on his fiddle. We would also visit Packie and Veronica, Alfie and Pat, and Josie and Teresa.   It was hard to get out of any of these houses without refreshment to help us on our way.   Our Warwick, Simon, and his son Neil, enjoy spending time with the next generation, and are good friends with Seamus and Marie, and Denis. Jude has also been over in the last month.

On our way to Donegal we always pass through Dublin and visit Raoul in the nursing home. Tony and Bridie, who live in Celbridge, regularly visit him and we are very grateful to them for their love and care.

My Aunt Bella married Henry McGee, a brave sailor who often went out to fish in stormy seas in a small boat. Bella lived with her family in Knockduff. We always visited her daughter Mary, and her son Father Eugene from Glasgow would be over every summer.  Sadly they have both passed on but this year we called again and met Henry McGee and his wife Marie.   Near Knockduff is the wonderful Marble Hill strand, close to Port na Blagh where we sometimes stayed in the hotel years ago. When I was a small boy aged about four or five I used to go on holidays to my Aunt Rose Sharkey in the Rosses. I remember watching the trains pass the house on the way to Burtonport. In 1925 four unfortunate people were killed when the train to the Rosses was blown off the viaduct.  That story is often spoken about to this day.

In the old days we always used to call on our relative John the Saddler in Dunfanaghy. He was noted for giving news of all the relatives we used to know.

John McConnell and other good friends

One of the best friends I met in my life was John McConnell from county Meath.  John grew up with a sister and nine brothers at Mitchelstown between Kells and Ardee. I also knew two of his brothers Kevin and Dickie.  John told me that as a school boy he often drove cattle over the sixteen miles to the Dublin market.   In his teens he did farm work with horses and later with tractors.
When Jane and I settled in Rugby we were very lucky to  meet two other life-long friends.
They were  Bill Mannion and his good wife Nuala. Bill was from Roscommon and Nuala from Tyrone.    She was one of the distinguished Donnelly family of Lakeview House in Coagh.  Her sister
Ethna was a respected matron in Larne hospital and so was Eve in Northampton.  Another sister Creagh was married to John Black who was among the best helpers I met in the greyhound world. Her brother Brendan was a priest who served in Florida for twenty years and another brother Kevin operated a thriving nursery from their home.

Photo of Tony, me, Warwick, Jane, Raoul and Bridie

At a party in Dublin to celebrate Raoul's 80th birthday : - Tony Doohan, myself, our middle son Warwick, my dear wife Jane, my brother Raoul and Bridie Doohan.

I`m sure I have told you before that I had a brother who was a Priest.  His name was Owen Roland.  We called him Raoul.  Our Mamma was a devout Catholic.  I was the eldest of the family and I think she hoped I would be a Priest.  She was also disappointed when Tony became a Doctor and again when Ted followed me into the Veterinary college.  The happiest day of her life was the one when Owen became ordained.  When she stood up to speak at the celebration dinner she said "Firstly I wish to thank God for giving me two good girls and now one good son."  

Sadly Tony and Ted and our two wonderful sisters Carmel and Eileen are gone and Raoul is in a home in Dublin.  I am glad to say he has frequent visits from my cousin Tony Doohan and his loving wife Bridie. I have no better friends.  

Les Fowler

I would like to write a few lines to a couple of my oldest friends in the greyhound world because we are the same age and therefore I can imagine how they may be feeling ... probably tired but hopefully cheerful and on the way to being  energetic again after a few hours of sound sleep and rest.  
My thoughts are with  Les and Gwen Fowler of Luton who were equally kind to their dogs whether they were winners or losers.

This is Les wearing his uniform and medals on a Remembrance Day commemorating his five years' service in the desert with Field Marshal Montgomery.

The Ancient Sport of Coursing Hares With Greyhounds

Despite the illogical Ban on coursing by Blair's Labour government in 2005 the sport has continued to thrive and be enjoyed in Ireland.    British coursing supporters still travel to the ports of  Rosslare, Dublin or Belfast and some bring runners to compete for the valuable prizes at the major meetings.
      Since I became a teenager I got much enjoyment from watching lurchers, collies or greyhounds chasing hares in meadows or foothills.  The nearest tracks to me were at   Derry and Lifford but  I did not see any racing until I was almost twenty years of age.   I did however  read about big races that were run at tracks in Belfast and Dublin.   I gradually had thoughts or dreams of going as far south as Clounanna the great meadow where the Irish Coursing Cup was staged.
The hares there were noted for their strength and stamina.and the majority were able to outwit the hounds.   Their fitness was due to the efforts and enthusiasm of all of the committee, stewards, and  landowners. They ensured that, when the pasture was frozen, sheaves of oats were provided for the hares. At coursing meetings, it was not uncommon to see a pair of hounds stop for a rest whenever a tired hare rested.

Reg Fowler from Luton

One of the greatest characters I have ever met in the greyhound world is Les Fowler from Luton.   He arrived at my kennels with an injured greyhound one day in 1957.   He was accompanied by his wife Gwen.  They immediately impressed me as a couple with a deep love of dogs.  They were to become regular and highly respected clients.   They treated their hounds as if they were children and aimed to keep no more than four.   Whenever one of their runners sustained a serious injury they never considered the financial loss they might suffer.   Their sole concern was the pain it might be feeling.  The more I saw of them the more I respected them.   They were always so grateful for everything I tried to do for their hounds.    The manner of Les was so humble that initially I did not recognise what a brave and famous client had come so far to see me.
There came a day when I visited them because they had a hound who over the telephone seemed
too ill to travel.  The patient was in their warm kitchen and wearing a coat.   When I had examined it I looked around.   My gaze lingered on the decorations  -- four pairs of them - - on the left lapel of his black uniform.
This is Les in his uniform which  until recently he  has worn regularly on Remembrance days.

When war declared in 1939 Reg signed up. 

Charley - A true friend

On the last Saturday in March we were shocked by a fatal heart attack to Charley  our precious Jack Russell at the age of eleven.    He had spent the morning with me at the weekly market in Beverley.    He was his usual self and  enjoyed meeting all our human and canine friends.   When we went home Jane declined to go to the library with me for lunch.   She had something to do on the computer and wished me to leave Charley  with her.   I left the back door open so that he could go out on the lawn when he wished.   When I returned he was not in the house and  Jane went to call him in.
  She was awfully shocked  and burst into tears on finding him dead under a tree.
     I tried to console her by saying he could not have suffered..  I went to fetch a spade but she found one before I did and  insisted on doing the depressing digging.
Charley had been popular with all who knew him and we are still receiving expressions of sympathy over our loss.   He was the closest to us of all the wonderful dogs whose company we had enjoyed - maybe because in retirement we always had time for him.  I remember the first Jack Russell we had in 1947.    We have since had eleven, and every one was a truly honest and loyal friend.   I often have reason to wish why more of us cannot behave as well as the great majority of the dogs we have known.
Many people prefer a Jack Russell to pedigree breeds of dog because the Jack Russell is not inbred the way many pedigree breeds are.

                During the first twenty four hours of life without Charley I never considered replacing him.   The thought seemed unreal.  I also wanted time to discuss with Jane how we could transfer the love we had for Charley to a stranger.    If I did think of  having another I would favour one who moved at our own speed.