In which Cesar Milan 2 tries to encourage me to let my greyhound off the lead… kind of!

“Are you going to let her off then?” said Cesar 2.

We – Cesar Milan 2, his two dogs, my dog – The Daisy Dog and I were idling our Saturday morning away in the field. A field that Cesar 2( my nickname for this fellow dog owner who had been on numerous dog training courses and who admired Cesar Milan and his techniques) classed as being safe and secure enough to let my relatively young greyhound off the lead for the VERY first time!

He smiled his most persuasive smile. This guy clearly knew his stuff and his dogs were proof of that.

However, he didn’t know my dog… I did.

“No, not here and not now.” I told him.

His disappointment was visible. I think he genuinely wanted to help, but, I needed to do things in my time and my own way.

Fast forward to last week.

On a warm, sunny morning the Daisy Dog and I headed twenty minutes down the lane, to a field where I was fairly sure we wouldn’t be disturbed. I was right, there wasn’t a soul in sight. I put a harness on The Daisy Dog… and she refused to walk in it. I put her collar back on and she walked fine… even though the new training lead was still attached to the harness.

I fed some of the lead out of a new bag that I have purchased to house the monster of a lead( which extends to about three miles!). In the new bag were water bottles for the dog and I, doggy poo bags, about three pounds of sausages and turkey, for training purposes, a picnic – for when I got peckish and a sleeping bag – for when I got tired. I was a brownie, (Sixer of the Gnomes, to be exact) as a child and my motto still is be prepared! It’s just these days the preparation has to be housed in a bigger, bag and I sometimes struggle to carry my preparedness. It flops around all over the place and sticks out way too much, and sometimes I trip up over it!

Anyhow, I tied off the lead, to stop it pulling out uncontrollably… and me tripping up over that as well. The Daisy Dog didn’t really seem to realise that she had the freedom to run a bit further from me. In fact she shadowed me all around the field, in much the same way she always does. It could have been something to do with the huge shadow that I was casting. Why bake in the hot sun when you have a huge shadow of preparedness to cool down in? So, no recall training was done on that outing.

Towards the end of the ~~walk~~, hot and sticky trudge in the field, in an over zealous attempt to give her some more lead, I got the lead in the bag very tangled up. I also needed the toilet and I’d forgotten to pack one. ( Brown Owl would be so distraught!)

So, I put her back on to her shorter lead and we headed home. Over a cuppa I untangled my messy lead, whilst the Daisy Dog snored loudly on her part of the sofa. Yes, she has her own section of the sofa. No, she isn’t spoilt at all!

I haven’t seen Cesar 2 recently.

I feel sure if I do, he’ll have some advice for me. I wonder if he can give some pointers on how to stop my three miles of training lead getting tangled up in my bag?

The training of the Daisy Dog continues… watch this rather erratic space!

How about you?

Do any of you use training leads for your pooches?

Any bits of advice?

Thanks for dropping by.

Dorne x

May 16, 2017May 24, 2017

In which I meet Cesar Milan… kind of!

I’m working on a commission, writing about cats. So I’m taking a break from cats and writing about greyhounds on here. In particular, one little lady and her mates.

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So, it’s a Saturday morning and the Daisy Dog and I are on one of our plods. We’ve plodded through castle field, past the remains of the castle and down into Forge Valley: an ancient wooded valley, which was formed during the last ice age.

We follow the grassy path, along the edge of the river Derwent. The Daisy Dog reads the numerous doggy newspapers, written by her doggy friends and I look for otter tracks. I’m becoming a bit obsessed with them. I think I’ve found one and then I realise it’s a dog print.

We round the bend and there they are… Cesar Milan and his pack of dogs.

This guy is walking two dogs, off their leads and we get talking, as dog walkers do. One of the dogs, who has some lurcher in him, is a rescue dog. I listen to a bite-size ( sorry!) tale of his previous life. Cesar 2 as I mentally christen him is really into dogs and has been on just about every dog training course he could go on. And it shows… his dogs are calm, friendly and great around the Daisy Dog, who is on her lead. He mentions Cesar Milan and how he is over here at the moment and I swear his eyes glaze over. I must be psychic… how did I know he was a fan of Cesar?

We talk about Cesar 1. I too love watching his TV shows. He has an amazing way with dogs and I marvel at how he gets away with some of the things he does. Oh… a dog bit him? Well, you can’t win them all.

“She has a bit of a nervous look about her,” says Cesar 2.

“Do you think?” says I

Cesar 2’s appraisal of the Daisy Dog may well prove to be correct as just of lately she has been getting a bit mouthy (make that a lot mouthy!) occasionally,with other dogs. The other dogs just stand and look at her and Mr Whale and I have been wondering whether it is a case of nerves.

I still have a fistful of sausages, lamb or pork whenever I’m out with the Daisy Dog. I smell bloody amazing to dogs and they come from miles around to see me. This is probably not helping the Daisy Dog and her nerves, as they come charging across fields at ridiculous speeds to check out Mrs Sausage Woman!

Meanwhile, back to the sunny pasture where everything is settled. Cesar 2 has been telling me a few tricks he has learnt about dogs and I’ve been on a brief dog psychology course. It’s all interesting stuff and he seems to know his stuff.

But, I’ve slipped up and told him about my plans to do some recall training with the Daisy Dog… when I get my training lead. I couldn’t help it. He’s been saying how sad a life it is for dogs that never go off the lead.

My dog is not sad and I do want her to run free… but, not off and away. That is bloody irresponsible.

“So you haven’t let her off the lead yet?”

“No,” I admit.” Not yet and it won’t be here. The field is too big and she’ll likely clear off. There’s a definite little madam streak in the Daisy Dog. Besides I need to do some recall training first.

“She could go off here,” he says glancing around the doggy heaven that we are gossiping our Saturday morning away in.

Again, I tell him that I’m not ready to let her off and that it is not as enclosed as I would like. I quickly change the subject and ask him about his dogs.

He gives me a few more of his doggy tips.

His dogs wander around and sniff the grass. The Daisy Dog goes as far as she can on the lead. And I feel so damn guilty.

It’s too late… our Cesar 2 is a mind reader as well it seems.

“So,” says Cesar 2 ” Are you going to let her off then?”

I look around the tranquil, gated at each end field, with the river Derwent winding its way down the east side of it.

” Go on!” and Cesar 2 gives me his best, persuasive grin.

I’ll be back to tell you whether I did or I didn’t soon. How soon that soon is will depend on loads of things, that are, as usual out of my control.

I will try to make it back before Christmas.

Thanks for dropping by.

Dorne x

February 1, 2017February 3, 2017

A fistful of sausages: training the Daisy dog.

For a few sausages more I’m hoping my greyhound will be good, not bad and certainly not get us into an ugly situation.

I’m out with the Daisy dog on a bright, late January afternoon. The birds are singing hopeful songs and a gentle, relaxing walk lies ahead of us.

We turn the corner and are immediately thrown into a standoff, not dissimilar to a scene from a spaghetti western – hence the title.

A beautiful, long-haired, border collie who goes by the name of Flossie leads her pack of two humans. They always trail several yards behind her. The music builds to a climax in my aching head as I clock Daisy’s body language. She is eyeballing the Flossie and all her muscles have been tensed. Flossie stares the Daisy dog down and keeps coming at us.

There’s no time to retrieve the fistful of sausages in my glove ( yummy!) and I take evasive action by turning my pooch away from her perceived threat to face a wall, whilst calmly, but firmly telling her no… to defuse the situation. But, Daisy’s not having any of this and she lunges at the Flossie. I manage to pull her back in time and tell her no! She gives up and the standoff is over. Phew! The Flossie continues on her walk.

The rest of Flossie’s pack ambles up and a joint and judgemental ooh! is muttered by them and so the finger of blame wafts in my direction.

To say that I’m bloody furious is an understatement.

Standoffs with this Flossie are becoming a regular occurrence. Usually, I get to deploy my weapon… sliced sausages. A request for the Daisy dog to watch me distracts her as she loves sausages. Don’t all dogs? The Flossie passes us by and her pack of two loyal followers rush silently past us. Which is odd, to say the least. Most dog walkers like to pass comment on our various canine encounters. Or at least say ” Hello.”

In my quest to train our pooch, I go everywhere with my fists and pockets full of sausages, or bits of beef, pork and when I’m desperate liver. All cooked of course. I smell really yummy and dogs for miles around are thrilled to see me. They all want to stop and say hello. Which is fine… the Daisy dog gets to socialize with other dogs and I get to chat for England.

All except Flossie that is. Flossie doesn’t stop to chat, her pack never stop, or chat and the Irish Daisy dog thinks it’s highly amusing to shout “Feck off!” at her.

It is not.

This is not acceptable for a lady/female greyhound and so the training continues.

At this stage my husband and I ( one has been watching The Crown on Netflix and is feeling rather regal) can’t decide whether it’s the pack leader thing that is the problem, or the rubber ring that Flossie has rammed in her mouth, at all times. The Daisy dog has lots of toys and things to chew… other than chair legs, mobile phones, pairs of glasses and false teeth, but no rubber ring.

Yet another day and Daisy and I round the corner to be confronted by the Flossie. This time I quickly cross the road, with a very verbal and reluctant Daisy dog in tow. Flossie continues and her single pack member struggles to keep up with her.

I cross back over and explain to Flossie’s guy that it would be very helpful for them to have her on the lead, when we meet. He admits that he can’t walk her on the lead. She “pulls my shoulder out of its socket” he tells me.

We talk on, the Flossie keeps going… somewhere around the corner and walking along the side of the very busy, main road through our village. ( The thought of this scares me to death… seemingly not him.)

He accuses me of having a vicious dog. I point out that in all of our standoffs I’m the one that has to deal with both dogs. Never have they made any attempt to call the Flossie to heel. ( There’s no whistling of the pooch going on in this version of The Good , The Bad and The Ugly.) Nor do they put her on a lead; as other dog owners tend to do, when they see an approaching dog being walked on the lead. It evens things up a bit – in the canine world! The Flossie is presumably still on the roam. Points made and taken, we go our separate ways.

Several minutes later and the pooch and I are further down the road, and making my way round to the river when we meet…

Flossie leads again, he follows on. His anger is almost tangible.

This time the sausages are deployed, but we’re trapped in between another damn wall and them . He struts past. However, Flossie has stopped to sniff the grass. He shouts her five times, each time more frantically and angrily. Finally, she decides to join him. The Daisy dog is more of a lady this time and doesn’t swear, or attempt a lunge for the collie. She gets an extra-large piece of sausage and oodles of praise.

Bloody marvellous, I think… and head to the river for some chill out time.

The Daisy dog’s rubber ring arrives today.

Watch this space as I train our still adjusting to life as a family pet and so occasionally ever so slightly naughty, but absolutely adorable greyhound.

Do you have a free spirit dog? Or are you training your pooch? Feel free to share your experiences and words of wisdom/techniques .

Thanks for dropping by.

Dorne x

December 1, 2016December 1, 2016

A teenage greyhound’s first blog post. Love from the Daisy Dog.

I want to like, wash my bottom on the sofa in the lounge and then I may have another little snooze. Before you’re sick ,mummy has a big fluffy throw on there and a waterproof cover: and so my bottom will not make the sofa smell. Which is a shame, because I love all things smelly and fluffy. Cool!

She can’t do anything about my ~~farts~~ smells though. They are like something else. They’re awesome! Sometimes I have to run away from them. I mean where do they come from? Well, alright I know where they come from… but, I mean what have I been eating? Like! They’re so GROSS!

I’ve been living in this place like since January and it’s like okay.

I will be five in May of next year. Yeah, because I was like four in May of this year… get it?

I like to be cuddled and I love to get myself comfy on the sofa and screw the covers up. Sometimes I drag the covers off the sofa and dump them at the bottom of the stairs like. That’s awesome.

If dad leaves his empty coffee cup on the coffee table I like to get in there and have a slurp of it. Yummy. Yeah, that’s awesome – me… a teenage greyhound on caffeine. You’ve got to see it to believe it. Heard from downstairs, me in the bedroom sounds like an earthquake… cool – like!

Why is the coffee table called a coffee table like? Like does it need to have coffee all over it? I can help with that!

This thing called Christmas is coming like and mummy has put things called decorations up in the house… the whole house. Daddy says it’s too cluttered and mummy tells him it’s Christmas and to shut up – like. Later on I find daddy looking at the decorations and smiling. When mummy ( who is also known as she who is usually obeyed) asks daddy to put the lights up outside, at the front of the cottage ( because we have to emphasize we live in a cottage – like) he can’t get out there fast enough – like! This has nothing to do with mummy – she is trying to get her chocolate – filled bottom through the loft hatch, to find more Christmas decorations. Daddy may never get back in again. The decorations may fill the house – like.

Anyhow – like. I’ve discovered something called crackers. Mummy had carefully selected some to go with the rest of the rubbish she has on display – like. I got hold of one the other afternoon and showed it to daddy. He told she who is usually obeyed and she took the cracker away and then she moved the other crackers.

She’s forgetting that if I stand on my hind legs – like, I’m nearly six-foot tall… hah, hah! I could get the crackers – like.

Right, I’m bored now – like. I need to sleep a bit more, but I might come back again sometime – like.

If you’ve read this… cool! If not… I’m not really that bothered – like.

Big sloppy kisses and a right awful pong from The Daisy Dog x

October 29, 2016October 29, 2016

Autumn. A song and some thoughts.

I absolutely LOVE autumn. The colours, the weather, the mood… I could go on but, I’ll let this video and song from one of the true masters weave some autumn magic.

Then… there’s my take on autumn.

As I’m thinking about it now, I can think of so many other things about this rather special season. You’ve been spared them for now. I may be back with chapter 2.

Talking of which, I’m hoping to do my version of NaNoWriMo ( is that right?). I am putting together a book about greyhounds and I want to use November as a time to get it completed. Then, I can drive myself nuts trying to self publish, as an e-book.

My attempt at the month-long writing challenge would probably be best called NaNoMayAllthingsbeing wellFingersCrossedMo.

So, if I go comatose on here you know why. It could be argued that I’m comatose on here anyway. No difference then.

The heady days of summer are a becoming a distant memory.

The harvest is done

and thanks will be given.

Long fingers of darkness finger the landscape,

and cover it

like an incoming tide.

Halloween finds the kids in their costumes… excitedly tricking and treating.

Ghosts of spirits good and bad are at large on the street

and lanterns are made and lit,

to keep them from our homes.

That thin veil between our world, the other world, or even worlds… whatever our beliefs, is almost tangible.

It’s powerful stuff… this Halloween fun!

The birds sing their mellow songs now.

Above us, migrating birds bid us farewell.

Leaves drift down from the trees; like golden snowflakes.

Our boots kick through red and yellow drifts of leaves.

The horse-chestnut trees give up their treasures and returned to a temporary childhood, we hunt for the shiny, red conkers again.

The fire is lit and body, and souls snuggle up under soft blankets and are kidnapped by books, that have collected dust, during the summer months. Now, they take us prisoner in their familiar and not so familiar worlds.

Scarves are knitted and proudly worn on our forays out into the colder, sleepy world.

There’s a sense of peacefulness.

A need to sleep.

A sense of everything coming full circle.

The bonfires and fireworks light up the dark skies and our spirits.

The sunrises and sunsets go all out for a show of amazing colour.

There are Festivals of Light, Christmas and New Year celebrations to prepare for and celebrate.

So much to do.

In a matter of weeks

the first snowdrops will sleepily raise their pretty, little heads above the frozen, hard earth.

A stillness will cloak our land.

As we semi hibernate

And ready ourselves for the new seasons to come.

New plans, new hopes, new life.

There is always hope… until there isn’t.

Then, there is an acceptance.

There is always the cycle of life.

There is always Halloween – to help settle us in, to the new season.

Thanks for reading and have yourself a great Halloween.

Sees ya later.

Dorne x

August 26, 2016

Greyhounds and muddy boots: the Daisy dog continued.

The Daisy dog has been with us for seven months… how time flies. Up to now, I haven’t talked about her much on here and as yet she has shown no interest in blogging herself. ( Such as our previous greyhound, Misty did.)

The new improved Write Dorne will include a link to The Greyhound Posting posts. I’m not much improved yet and so this is being published without the link thingy. You know how you want everything to be just perfect and it all to work? Well life isn’t like that, is it? Just of lately there have been a few very big spanners thrown into the works and I’ve had to adapt.

I could wait and wait…and wait some more until this perfection thing is achieved. But then, life rolls on and if we wait until we’re ready – we never do it.

So, this post comes to you a little wanting…but, more or less there.

Back to the Daisy dog!

We seem to be making good progress with her training and then sometimes, as with a child, it all goes pear-shaped. You know how it is? You think you’ve cracked it and then there’s a little accident and a bit of naughtiness…and the Daisy dog also plays up as well, sometimes.

Daisy is four years old now, so a bit like a teenager. One that won’t come out of her bedroom , is quite mouthy and won’t always do as she is told. And don’t even get me started on the unmade bed.

Every dog is different and it’s no different with greyhounds. As a breed they are easy-going and gentle, but, they do each have their own little idiosyncrasies.

As I write this, our slightly larger than average for a greyhound bitch (oh, isn’t she like a tiger) dog is subjecting one of her favourite toys to a good thrashing, in our bedroom. When listened to from downstairs , it sounds like the ceiling is about to cave in, or that we’re having an earthquake, such is the force of the lunges and charging around.

There’s a lot of power residing in our loveable pet, as I found out to my detriment, the other night. I foolishly got involved in a game of I’m going to get your teddy, oh yes I am! Only I didn’t, because as I bent over to get teddy, the Daisy dog grabbed it and at that precise moment rammed her head right up into my forehead. Ouch! Yes….there was a loud thud as two skulls made contact and an usual quiet descended on the room.

The pain and formation of the bruise and swelling of my forehead was immediate. I examined the Daisy dog and she loved it… oooh- a head massage, again mummy, please! She seems to be just fine.

So, I now have an even healthier respect of her powerful form and I keep my head well out-of-the-way, during our rough and tumble sessions.

Daisy is coming along fine with her training, although the recall needs to be worked on. We call her and she has a good long think about it and then just carries on with her more interesting dog stuff. But, then there’s food.

Food helps…doesn’t it with all dogs? When I’m out with the Daisy dog I have an unusual aroma of either cheese, beef, sausages or bacon. I use tiny pieces of meat to get her attention and for training. All goes well…unless I need to shake hands and then I have to explain why I can’t. A greasy, beefy hand. Most folk get it and the ones that don’t…well, they haven’t lived, nor trained a delinquent teenager of a dog!

My daughter is giving me quite a few useful pointers with the Daisy dog. She has successfully trained quite a few dogs and is one of those folk that have a natural connection with dogs. They are drawn to her – and the beef!

I’m hoping that one day we will have perfected the recall, if the Daisy dog has decided to take part in it. There’s a totally enclosed paddock, near to where we live. If she can be trusted she’ll go off the lead, preferably with some other greyhound friends. No doubt they will all do an imaginary anti clockwise circuit of the field. Which, is rather fabulous to watch. And if I get my act together I will film it and stick it on here.

Don’t hold your breath though…she will have to learn to come when called first. We may be some way off that at present.

But, greyhounds don’t need to be let off the lead. Some folk have this idea that it’s cruel to not let a dog off the lead for a run. Well, which is the cruellest, a dog safe on the lead, or a lost/dead dog? Greyhounds cover a lot of ground in very little time. No one can catch them, but, if your hound is receptive to returning to you…for a titbit, then you may be able to let them off. However personally, I would never let Daisy off in an open area. I just know that a rabbit or hare would make an appearance and cock it all up.

So, life with the Daisy dog is fun, fascinating and fabulous.

As for the separation anxiety when we leave her home alone? We think we’re finally getting there. We get our coats on and then don’t go out. Then we take them off and go out. The plan is to totally confuse her and then she’ll just give in and chill out. It’s easier in the summer months…we can just shoot off through the door, with very little messing around. The winter months are a dead give away that we are LEAVING her home alone, as we try to sneakily get kitted out like Eskimos (it’s grim up north!). Try sitting for any length of time in a thermal coat with the central heating on, attempting to be chilled and the resulting heat stroke is a bit of a give away that this is not the usual routine. Dogs aren’t stupid..

But, we don’t give in easily and our new member of the family is being gently allowed to adapt to her new life as our much-loved family pet. And needless to say we would never leave her home alone for hours on end.

All things considered it’s quite a big ask when she has being surrounded by people and dogs all of her life. And now she has to live with a rather suspect vacuum cleaner!

I’ll let you know how we get on.

Here’s a tip.

If you have a dog that bolts its food and then positions itself in the middle of the lounge rug, to bring it all back up again – try this.

Place a ball in with the food. We use quite a big one, as you will note. This slows down the eating, as they move the ball around to get to the food.

Result: your rug/floor is safe and your pooch remains fed.

That’s it for now. It’s back to blog admin and working out how to get things where they should be, for me.

Thanks for reading.

Dorne x

March 8, 2016September 1, 2016

Done racing: the early stages of re-homing a retired greyhound.

Those of you who read this blog regularly may know that about two months ago we ( hubby and I) adopted our second retired greyhound, Daisy. She’s a blue brindle and will be four years old in May.

In the two months we’ve had this cuddly little madam… and oh boy does she love her cuddles, she has established herself very firmly in our family.

All dogs are different and Daisy is completely different to Misty, our previous greyhound who sadly passed away last September. Whereas Misty was quite chilled, into blogging and listening to music, Daisy is hyperactive, has shown no interest in blogging on here whatsoever and doesn’t seem to appreciate my taste in music.

Misty was quiet and rarely spoke to us…Daisy never shuts up. Misty was more than happy to just chill , sleeping on her various beds…Daisy wants to know what we’ve got planned, when we’re doing it and are we there yet?

So, two very different dogs and both as lovely as each other.

Daisy has settled in well and has developed quite a taste for mobile phones, glasses and false teeth. Fortunately, when she got hold of my mobile phone she didn’t hurt herself…the same could not be said for the phone though. Click here to find out how easy it was for me to replace/upgrade.

Hubby will have his home eye test next week and then he will be able to order new glasses and give the wonky pair to Daisy to wear. As for his teeth…he doesn’t plan to share them with Daisy again, anytime soon. Her own teeth are just fine.

As greyhounds spend all of their time in the company of other dogs and people, we were keen to get her into the habit of being home alone. We spent the first two weeks putting our coats on and then taking them off. Putting our shoes on and then taking them off. Taking our clothes off and then going out. . Putting our clothes on and staying in. Then going outside for a few minutes, getting soaked to the bone and then returning to a somewhat confused, sniggering dog.

And as any responsible dog owner knows dogs soon learn our routines. They learn to recognise when you put your coat and shoes on and associate it with you going out. So, hence the taking the clothes off thing. What dog in their right mind would associate you suddenly appearing in the room in the nude, with you taking a trip out? It’s all clever stuff.

We got brave and went to the local convenience store in the village. So confident were we that Daisy was adjusting to the home all alone thing , that we never broke into a run around the shop…not once. Honestly! Okay…we’ve never been around the store so quickly in our lives.

We arrived home to a rather chilled dog.

We became even braver and went out for a meal at our local pub, We shovelled the food in and drained our glasses extra fast.

We arrived home to an okay dog.

Then one Sunday lunchtime, just as the Yorkshire pudding was calling to me, we left the house to hear howls. Then the barking began and more howling followed. We went back into the house to a dog that was not okay with being home alone anymore.

We think something had spooked her and so now, as is often the case with children potty training, we are back to base one. No, we’re not potty training the dog…we’re trying to rid her of her separation anxiety.

So it’s back to:

Putting our coats and shoes on and sitting down for a read.
Going out and congregating outside the gate…for no apparent reason.
Leaving the room and coming back in again
And going out and coming back in
Taking our shoes off
Sitting down and standing up
Standing on one leg
Taking our clothes off and going and sitting in the car for a few minutes
Coming back in and ignoring the dog
Waiting for the dog to calm down, before calmly putting our clothes back on and cuddling her (surprisingly, this can sometimes take quite a while.)

I’m pretty sure that these tactics will pay off eventually. I’ve read all the books, researched it on the internet and even written about it. I’m not too sure about the taking off the clothes bit , but it confuses the hell out of Daisy and momentarily stops her in her tracks. Hubby struggles to walk too far these days and to be honest it takes up most of our day getting undressed and dressed again. But, if it settles the dog and enables us to go the pub and get absolutely off our heads at some point in the future, it will be all worthwhile.

We’re also still having the occasional little woopsies , by the kitchen door…and sometimes Daisy wets there as well! She is very vocal when she is barking at her reflection in the mirror in our bedroom, but suddenly goes quiet when she needs to pee. She has a certain walk that she does, but unless you witness it ( and once you’ve seen it you never forget it) you’re stuffed and a reservoir appears in front of the door. The doormat has never been washed so much and the floor is so clean… that Daisy just has to pee on it..again!

On a more positive note, Daisy has mastered the stairs and bounds up them, like I should imagine an earthquake would hit. She walks very well on the lead…even with me, who is unable to walk in a straight line to save my life. Other dogs are quite happy to approach her and she is making friends. I’ve actually managed to train her to give me her paw for cleaning, after walks. This did not involve the removal of garments.

For any would be greyhound adopters out there, don’t be put off by the peeing, the removal of clothes, or the getting legless in the pub. It is actually all good fun. When our little puppy (she weighs in at around 28kg) needs a cuddle, or a play, it makes up for the mobile phones, teeth and glasses. We wouldn’t change a thing…even if we spend the rest of our lives semi-dressed and never socializing ever again. Being friendly with folk is highly over rated. Why do that when you can stay home, rolling around the floor with a dog that likes to wear your glasses and false teeth?

Next week we will move the training up to the next level and begin to move from the back gate and slowly circle the house. Let’s hope it isn’t raining…it could be quite a chilling experience.

You may get to hear about this in the media as we may well get arrested for trying to rid our dog of separation anxiety. The powers that be just don’t understand…do they? We dog lovers will do anything to help them…even if it scares the hell out of the neighbours.

So, this is our first two months with Daisy. The training continues and she continues to adapt very well to life as a much loved pet, that just won’t be separated from her mobile phone and glasses. She knows what she likes.

I’ll keep you up to date on our progress and thanks for reading.

Dorne x

January 18, 2016September 6, 2016

Meet Daisy.

It’s all things greyhound again, at the moment for us. We’ve just adopted a three-year old brindle ( just a little puppy really!) called Daisy: and so it is back to the dog walks, training and having a home that feels complete again. I do think a dog, or any pet makes a house a home.

Of course, we have our late greyhound, Misty to thank for this.

She was our first grey and the reason for our addiction to them. Hubby and I aren’t complaining…it’s a brilliant addiction and one that comes highly recommended. Try it and get hooked!

Regular readers of this blog will remember that Misty posted on Write Dorne…Daisy will probably have her own column. It’s all part of a drive to shake things up a bit on here and get cracking with my greyhound book again.

Incidentally, our little puppy has just climbed our stairs, of her own accord ( a lot of greys can’t climb stairs!) and gone to investigate the upstairs of our cottage! My balls of wool are no longer safe! Loving it and I can’t stop grinning.

Thanks for dropping by again.

Dorne x

September 13, 2015September 1, 2016

R.I.P.Misty : the blogging greyhound.

This morning hubby and I had to make the heart-breaking decision to have Misty, our beloved greyhound, put to sleep. An X-ray had revealed a tumour on her hip and even if the damn and blasted thing hadn’t been cancerous, she would have needed her right, hind leg removing. That would have cleared her of most of the growth : but not all of it. Aged 12 years and 6 months, we felt this was too much and so we let her gently pass over, on to the next part of her journey.

There will be many of you who know only too well what a lousy and painful place my hubby, family and I inhabit at the moment. But, I know from past experience it does improve…with time. I’m old enough to have experienced the coming and going of many well-loved pets, over the years.

We do smile again. In fact I have smiled today, in between the out of control sobbing.

Last week, my family, Misty and I were at a cabin in nearby forests. So, my lasting memories of her will be enjoying our short walks and chilling out, greyhound style, on the sunny decking. She had really slowed down and she was due back at the vets for a check up this coming week. None of us (vets included) suspected anything like this and she had shown no signs of pain. She was being medicated for joint pain. She duly spent the week eating us out of the cabin and was still keen to socialise with the other holidaying dogs. The above image shows her with the family, on one of our walks.

So, this is my tribute to a rather special greyhound called Misty, who also used to pen rather naughty posts on here, from time to time.

March 20, 2003 – September 13, 2015

We brought her home from her racing kennels on September 13, 2008. For seven fabulous years, to the day, she lived with us, travelled with us, helped yours truly get thin again. Then watched me get fat, thin, fat… you get the picture!

She inspired me to kick-start my writing career and she became quite a star of several publications.

Hubby was firmly twisted around her lovely, long and slender paws.

Our grandchildren loved her to bits and she was always patient with them.

Everyone loved her, who met her and she had many doggy friends: both large and small.

She had a beautiful, soft silky coat, fabulous big brown eyes and she smelt gorgeous.

But, all dogs do and they’re all special, aren’t they?

Our life was all the richer for having her as our family pet and we wouldn’t change a second of it. Except… I might re-wind the clock back seven years and start all over again.

Misty was loved beyond measure and we have many treasured memories of her.

As for me… in my dreams, I will be forever in the fields walking with my sorely missed friend, Misty.

R.I.P. our lovely and beautiful pet.

That’s it for now. I have been absent from the blogosphere just recently. There’s been too much going on and the wet room saga continues. Yes, unbelievable! ( More on that later!)

I’m going to try to be a better blogger from now on. After all, this blog is supposed to be all about life, so life… I will give you.

But, for now, please bear with me as I come to terms with the loss of my lovely canine pal and the heart wrenching pain that we pet lovers must endure, when they leave us.

Mind you, it is quite possible that she is sitting somewhere watching me write this post and thinking…what a right numpty!

Thanks for taking the time to visit and I will be back.

Dorne x