As part of our 25th anniversary we’ll be posting 25 stories, from the very start of Tia to where we are now.

We have sold Mill Race Farm. Although it’s in the early stages i am confident that it will go through, so we are looking for Tia’s next and permanent home. When we bought Moorside Farm we paid the mortgage off in 6 years and i am wanting to do this again so that Tia’s future is secure. Please help us achieve this by buying a brick for Tia, as part of our ‘25 years of Tia brick appeal‘.

A couple of years on from leaving the Police, I had taken over the stables behind the tip, collected garden sheds from all over Yorkshire and Tia Greyhound & Lurcher Rescue had begun. I saw lots of neglected dogs, sad dogs, starved dogs, betrayed dogs. Volunteers, helpers, dog walkers and fundraisers just seemed to find us. We would sit for hours in the field watching the world go by.

On the 11th February 1998 I went to the stray kennel in Huddersfield, which was a notorious hell hole on every level. They fetched out a greyhound and how I kept my hands off them for keeping him for a week, with no veterinary treatment, I will never know.

I took him back to the stables/sheds but I couldn’t leave him there, he could barely stand he was so weak and the look in his eyes spoke volumes. He had almost given up….so home he came. A comfy bed was set up under the radiator and he could see my giant rabbits through the patio doors bouncing about…I swear they kept him going. An early form of recreational therapy no doubt.

Brandon was a massive dog, reduced to skeletal proportions, his skin was rotting. I had to carry him outside, which wasn’t difficult apart from trying not to hurt him. He had to be fed a small handful of food every 2 hours and each time I went into see him, I’d say “Hello Brandon”. In truth I was never sure if he was going to be alive or not.

Weeks went by and every day he got a little bit stronger. I knew early on that if he survived I would never part with him. I never did.

He was a gentleman, my Brandon. Never put a foot wrong even though he was a huge, huge dog. He had been a coursing dog, Tiger Pursuit was his official name, owned by a magistrate. I found out who had owned him, who had starved him and gave the details to the RSPCA, I even complained the to chief inspector because they wouldn’t do anything.

” Oh dear” he said…”we don’t have the time to chase greyhound abusers around the country” (swear words insert here)

This big lad fought for his life and managed another five years, five wonderful years. In 1999 we even got a trophy in London, a grand affair, we got a Wag award Willing and Giving, Personality of the Year Award, yes really. Made much more interesting by the rabbit in a cage at the next table and I had to wear a dress.

The day he slipped through my fingers I’ll never forget. I knew it was coming and had stuffed him on things I wouldn’t dream of giving him normally. Kit Kats and Milk Tray, what did it matter now. I looked through the window and he looked right back. I knew he had waited for me. I opened the door and he ran to me, he collapsed in my arms and left for the bridge, leaving a sobbing mess and priceless memories.

See you on the bridge darling.

Deb

As part of our 25th anniversary we’ll be posting 25 stories, from the very start of Tia to where we are now.

We have sold Mill Race Farm. Although it’s in the early stages i am confident that it will go through, so we are looking for Tia’s next and permanent home. When we bought Moorside Farm we paid the mortgage off in 6 years and i am wanting to do this again so that Tia’s future is secure. Please help us achieve this by buying a brick for Tia, as part of our ‘25 years of Tia brick appeal‘.

1995: The end of that

So over the next six years and countless dogs taken home from the Police Station, or retrieved from the pounds, it had become a bit of a regular occurrence. It was collies at that time.

One fateful day, the 2nd of February 1995 to cut a long story short, my career was over. It wasn’t helped by my colleague who ran off when he saw the sword being wielded at us. Well what do you expect from a guy who first name was that of a yellow mustard.

I was off for quite a while. Eric and my two boxer dogs, Buster and Betty were sick of being walked up and down the hillside. Then by chance i came across an Irish man with a beautiful blue and white greyhound called Bobby, he had some more in stables behind the tip in Sowerby Bridge. He hadn’t the heart to put this one down as he was so well behaved. What?

Several visits and conversations with this guy and I knew where i was heading, and it was to Askern Greyhound Stadium. I wanted to find out about these dogs. So off i went….I had no idea what to expect or what to do so i put a fiver on a tiny little brindle girl, Little Tara. The guy at the side of me smirked…..she’s no chance love.

Well she bloody well had. She barged all the dogs out of the way on the last bend and won, fiery little thing she was. And that was that.

The next day i went back down to the stables behind the tip and took home Bobby Connor. The most beautiful blue and white greyhound i had ever seen..

I did go back to work but everything had changed. I also began to go to the tracks with the Irish guy….i didn’t really like it, but i liked the greyhounds. A lot…..

So i started saving greyhounds and in return, they saved me….

Deb

As part of our 25th anniversary we’ll be posting 25 stories, from the very start of Tia to where we are now.

We have sold Mill Race Farm. Although it’s in the early stages i am confident that it will go through, so we are looking for Tia’s next and permanent home. When we bought Moorside Farm we paid the mortgage off in 6 years and i am wanting to do this again so that Tia’s future is secure. Please help us achieve this by buying a brick for Tia, as part of our ‘25 years of Tia brick appeal‘.

1992 – A Rude Awakening.

Some of this is from an old newsletter..

It was a lovely sunny day, i’d passed my probation in the Police, bought a nice little house and was the proud owner of a Boxer dog and a battered old Mini Metro. Eric the terrier had come along by accident, a 6 week old terrier pup, fetched into the Police station in an elderly ladies shopping bag. He had escaped from the box of puppies that had been dumped near her house. The rest of the puppies went to the stray kennel, there was one in Halifax at that time. A week later i saw the puppies at the stray kennel…the week after that they had all been put to sleep. That’s what happened then. The kennels claiming the destruction fee, easier than trying to rehome them.

My neighbour at this time, who had lurchers, had got himself a new dog. She was in his shed, absolutely terrified, a black skinny thing, all legs and worry. ” A greyhound” he said. “Too slow, but she pees in the house”

A few days later a boxer girl was handed in at the Police station and taken to the same pound. I told them i would adopt her when her seven days were up. I went to see her at the pound and whilst i was there a young girl came running out of the kennels absolutely heartbroken. She couldn’t speak at first. Then she did. He’s been kicking dogs to death…..

I left and rang the licensing officer, it was the Police back then who licensed the kennels. Whilst i was waiting for him, a vet turned up to put the strays to sleep. How many are you putting to sleep? “Just the 6”

He left, the Sergeant landed and we checked the bright blue shiny bags….There were over a dozen dead dogs, most of which the vet hadn’t seen.

And there she was the little black greyhound girl…..dead.

The neighbour got both barrels…..i would have had her.

And so it began….