The Italian Greyhound Club

From Linnet Loh

“Labradoodles. Two cute, black, fluffy bundles of joy. Seven weeks old and ready to be collected by Father Christmas. Might separate. £500 each.”

I must confess that when I look at the ‘Pets for Sale’ column in the local paper at this time of year my heart sinks. Possibly this year even more so as I have learned to surf the net. The advent of the designer cross breed and our “must have” culture has opened a Pandora’s Box. Common sense seems to fly out of the window. We are enchanted by Andrex puppies and breeds that will fit in a handbag. We want something with a funny name, a Puggle, a Piggle or a Poo. The one thing guaranteed is the cost which will be nearly double that of a registered purebred puppy.

Claims will be made as to it’s health, after all if it is not a pedigree puppy we will be told it will not have  any inherited genetic faults. This new breed is a Mongrel which has become a commercial success.

My first dog was a rescue puppy. Henry was a Collie cross, the other bit being Labrador who came via the Anti- Vivisection Trust. We had requested something small and smooth coated, Henry was neither, in fact it was rather difficult to hazard a guess what this rather bedraggled and smelly bundle was going to turn into.

He was frightened and had been sick. He remained car sick all his life and was terrified of loud noises. He had to be given a nice bold name so Henry he became. Once bathed and fed he appeared to be quite presentable. Henry had large paws at the end of quite long legs and was furry. There were   two small children under three, a small semi in a London suburb. It was early Summer so he was easy to house train. We lived near several parks and I walked him for miles pushing Victoria in the pram and Nick on the pram seat, shopping underneath, Henry learned very fast to keep his feet out of the way. He sat by the pram outside the shops (a world far removed from now).

I had yet to learn to drive, a very good thing from Henry’s point of view, so he came everywhere with me and the children. I didn’t work and he became a wonderful companion.  Henry of course grew into a most handsome boy. He adored the children and did all the things a happy family dog ought to do.

Can you feel a BUT coming? Well Henry could never be enticed into the car. Between him and my daughter it was a close thing as to who was sick before the first corner. Henry never went on holiday or even days out. If he needed the vet he walked.  Once he went to kennels for a week, he pined, would not eat, caught kennel cough, and come home with an infestation of fleas. Holidays became a problem. The solution came in the form of our milkman who offered him a home if we wanted to go away. Our daughter remained car sick for years, the milkman did not offer her refuge!

Henry was also terrified of thunder storms and I mean really frightened, he went through a plate glass window on one occasion. I usually had to take him and the radio and cower under the stairs until peace reigned.

When we got him we really had no idea what he would turn into. We realised his start in life had been precarious.  I imagine an unwanted accident and abandoned very young. I think he was about six weeks old when he came to us. Intelligent, biddable and easy to train. He proved to be trustworthy with the children, Victoria learning to walk clinging on to his collar. The BUT again … the Collie trait of always wanting to be  on the go got stronger as he grew older and meant he needed lots of exercise and had that habit of, if I moved, we must be going out which is  very  un-restful to live with, the Labrador trait of docility ,in charge at the beginning, waned. The children grew older and I learned to drive. He hated being left behind spending more and more time with Ernie, yes, he really was called Ernie. When I had my third child I found that I could not give him the time and exercise he needed. Henry decided he preferred Ernie’s home and lifestyle which included every evening in the pub, walks with Mrs Ernie a.m. and Mr Ernie Senior p.m., plus football with teenage Ernie. He left without a backwards glance, delighted to join a family who did not have holidays or even have a car and lived to a ripe old age.

Do not buy a puppy before Christmas and definitely not as a surprise present.  Remember what it is you really want, in the pedigree dog, the breed type and temperament are usually predictable. A spring puppy is easier to take out and house train (especially an IG).

At Christmas time a veritable mine field of things lie in wait for the curious puppy. Poisons in the form of chocolate, the darker the more dangerous, grapes and dried fruit. Plants: Poinsetters, Solanum, Mock Orange, Mistletoe – so tempting to chew on, are also unsuitable for small children. Think toddler and you are on the right track. The tree lights and decorations are a disaster waiting to happen. Presents under the tree provide endless entertainment, heaven to a puppy, plus the ability to practice peeing on the tree, remember housetraining- it’s a tree!!

Still want a puppy? Wait until after the festive season is over. And if you want an IG puppy make sure you read the Club’s advice on Finding an Italian Greyhound and Avoiding Puppy Farmers.  Read the Dog Press, go to a dog show and look and see what might suit you. Go to your local Dogs Home look and see what you might be able to give a home too. Ponder on the fact that all dogs cost an arm and a leg no matter whether pedigree or a mutt.

Ask questions!  Expect to be asked questions! Do not buy on a whim! 

I wish you all A Very Happy Christmas and Joyous New Year!

From

Linnet & Canine Family: Panda the Whippet, Twinkle, Stella, Acer, Pip, Morris and George who is 7 months and will not be allowed near the tree!

Breed Blog #7 will from Helen Rishworth will be posted here on Saturday, 24th December 2011.

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