Page 12 - 27 April 2012

GOING TO THE DOGS
Lessons learned from a greyhound.
Everything I was reading about greyhound racing sounded a lot like the arguments used by opponents of horse racing.
by Stacy Pigott
April is National Adopt A Greyhound Month.
I didn’t know that when I first decided I needed to adopt a greyhound. I don’t know if it would have made a difference as I perused the list of available dogs online. I don’t know if it would have mattered as I filled out the lengthy adoption applica- tion. I do know I couldn’t have cared less what month it was when I first saw the greyhound that would soon take up residence in my house, and my heart.
Gypsy was her name, they said. Her story was simple—too scared, timid and fearful to race, Gypsy’s breeders had scheduled her to be euthanized. Instead, a greyhound rescue group intervened and Gypsy was saved from death. One “meet and greet” at a local PetSmart later, and Gypsy was mine.
To be honest, I don’t know what possessed me to adopt a greyhound. I’m not a huge greyhound advo- cate. Sure, I spent many hours walking the resident blood donor dogs—four greyhounds—at Michigan State University’s veterinary school during my college years. And since then, I’ve known a few people here and there who have adopted ex-racing dogs. But it wasn’t ever something I set out to do...until now.
Since the minute I signed the papers and brought Gypsy home, I have not regretted a single second of my decision to welcome this elegant, regal creature into my home. She is beautiful, gentle, loving, fun, and unbelievably fast. My poor blue heeler mix, Jewel, doesn’t stand a chance when Gypsy decides to play “catch me if you can,” because Jewel can’t.
One afternoon, as I watched Gypsy’s awesome display of speed and athleticism around the back- yard, I decided I should learn a little bit more about greyhound racing. After all, that was supposed to be Gypsy’s purpose in life. She was bred to run.
Up until then, my knowledge of greyhound racing had been limited to two trips to greyhound tracks in two very different parts of the country. Once, my dad and I drove from Spokane, Washington, to Coeur d’Alene, Idaho—the closest satellite facility that car- ried the Los Alamitos signal. I had a horse in, and we wanted to watch. The track was running greyhounds, so it was only natural that we bet on the dogs, too, while we were there. A few years later, while visit-
ing my sister in Arizona, we spent another enjoyable evening playing the dogs at the local greyhound track.
My experiences with greyhound racing have been limited, but fun. So it was a bit of a shock when
I Googled “greyhound racing” and began to read
about the sport that was the very reason for Gypsy’s existence. Half of the links on the first page of search results were in opposition to greyhound racing, including the American Society for the Prevention
of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA)’s website, which stated: “Greyhound racing may seem like a harmless sport, but life in the fast lane is no picnic for these overworked dogs. Every year, thousands of young
and healthy Greyhounds are killed merely because they lack racing potential, are injured while racing or are no longer competitive. Life is hard for those who make the grade—they spend long hours in cramped kennels and are deprived of normal social contact and life experiences. While people are becoming more aware of the horror of this sport, there are still more than 20 tracks operating in the U.S. and one just over the border in Juarez, Mexico.”
There were plenty of links to videos of horrific racing wrecks on the track, reports of injuries to rac- ing dogs, euthanasia numbers, and the overbreeding of greyhounds throughout the country.
I felt my heart go out to the racing greyhound.
I look at Gypsy and know she is lucky to be alive. I began to resent the industry that was so willing to risk this precious life in the first place, and so cal- lously end it when the results were not profitable. In my mind, I took the first step toward becoming an opponent of greyhound racing.
And then I stopped. And I thought. And I real- ized all of the articles and websites and blogs I was reading about greyhound racing sounded a lot like the arguments used by opponents of horse racing. I don’t believe the lies people tell about horse racing, because I know the truth. But I don’t know the truth about greyhound racing, so it’s easy to be misled.
A good friend of mine recently posted on Facebook: “Sometimes people only see their way on certain issues, but there are others that think differently. Both have legitimate reasons, but sometimes (the different) sides don’t see them at all. I think it all goes back to self respect and respecting others. The world is going to crap due to everyone thinking for themselves and not considering the other side’s point of view.”
While her comments were not specifically directed toward the horse racing industry, I couldn’t agree with her more. What I have realized is that thanks to Gypsy, I got an up-close look at the other side’s point of view. My shock, horror and disbelief at the atro- cious state of greyhound racing (as presented by the
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SPEEDHORSE, April 27, 2012
UNDER WRAPS