Those of a certain age will have Sgt Pepper in their head for the rest of the day. For Tia, it means
the day we didn’t sell our soul to the racing industry…the NGRC as it was then, more recently the GBGB.
God knows we could have used the cash. Tia was still reeling after the break in, a piece of spite
which left two dogs dead and six on drips. A rottie cross called Dougie was stolen a few weeks later
and we just didn’t know where to turn for money. If that wasn’t enough, we were about to lose the
kennels at the Sewage plant. There was no way we could go on.
The media wasn’t the tyrant it is now but there had been a few exposes concerning the treatment of
retired greyhounds. People were changing too. Something called the internet arrived and mobiles
and emails became indispensable. Corporations became slicker and the racing industry realised they
needed to get their house in order. Perhaps try working with rescues instead of pretending they
didn’t exist. Forge links with some of the more troublesome independents and turn the poachers
into gamekeepers.
You’ll never know how hard it was to tear up that cheque.
Oddly enough our luck started to change soon after. An adopter who worked in Health and Safety,
bought us a years breathing space. A legacy came through enabling us to buy Moorside and secure
our future. Dougie showed up, covered in chain cuts but alive and we kept yelling at anyone who
would listen.
On the 1st of September 2020 the GRS was launched by the industry. The Greyhound Retirement Scheme where every greyhound will live happily after….every rescue could benefit from £400 for every greyhound they took in. It didn’t matter what happened to the dog after that. The carcasses that were recovered from Rebecca Perkins kennels and outside pit being only one example.
The criteria? You cannot say anything against the industry/tell the truth. Obviously the Independents were furious and kept well away from their hush money. The struggling all breed rescues, it was Covid afterall, took every penny/greyhound they could get…everybody wanted dogs, it was a perfect storm.
Oh I had lots of visits from the Industries Stipendary Stewards and Welfare officers, please sign up, please sign up…. Dave Baldwin who I toyed with endlessly, nice guy. Chris Hufton who had been warned about me but was so far out of his depth it was laughable. I had asked him to investigate a dog called Thom (Thunder Snowball ) who had been sold on for flapping with a broken hock…he went to great lengths to tell me and Bob that he had been to the owners house and had “no concerns” He did however turn a slight shade of green when I told him the dog he was stroking, with the broken hock, was Thom.
Mark Brid the Managing Director even came round in the end confident he would change my mind, he’d be able to do it.
In the end I put them out of their misery and showed them the framed cheque.
The kennels here at Nairn are nearly finished. The office will be an integral part of the building and
above my desk will hang the attached as it did at Moorside and Millrace.
“twenty years on and we are still throwing punches”