Industry Fights Back...

A Simple Way to Dispell Anti-Racing Mythology


By Dennis Mckeon
Posted on American Greyhounds.com
February 22, 2012

You’ll need only a kennel full of Racing Greyhounds, one anti-racing zealot and a camera phone.

I used to dread it when friends of mine (or anyone who was a comparative stranger to the dogs) would come to the kennel for a visit. Not that I didn’t want to see them. I did. But they would invariably insist on coming out into the turnout pens with the dogs, and then I’d have to worry about them being smothered to death with dog-love and unbridled enthusiasm. I think most kennel operators and trainers shared my confliction there. You love to show off your dogs, but people who simply aren’t used to the sheer power of the “surge” of a small colony of hounds, can unknowingly present a danger to themselves.

Back in the days of heavy wire muzzles, there was always the chance of a fat lip, a broken nose, or in the worst case scenarios, a knocked-out tooth or two, courtesy of those hounds who would suddenly stand on hind legs to get eye-to-eye with their new visitor. Until one has been the “new human” (and thus the sole object of desire in the entire world) for 25-30 greyhounds, simultaneously, you really have no idea of just how friendly they can be, or how competitive they truly are, even when it comes to seeking your acquaintance and friendship.

Only the real troopers could put up with more than a few minutes of this mass-marketed good feeling, and even they could become quickly exhausted with being the most important thing in the universe, however temporarily, to a kennel full of muscled-up, smotheringly affectionate, finely conditioned athletes.

I’ve always figured this is why so many anti-racing activists say they'd never want to go near a racing kennel or a breeding establishment. Have you ever noticed that? None of them could possibly have any idea of what they’re talking about, or what they're missing, because they’ve never been to a racing kennel or a breeding facility. Huh? That's right, they haven’t a clue. Most of them know only what they’ve read on the internet, courtesy of extremist and donation-seeking animal rights propagandists.

It would shatter many of them to actually have to come to grips with their own prejudices, looking into the faces of these happy, gregarious and ebullient greyhounds, while trying desperately to keep from being overwhelmed or knocked to the ground with unabashed greyhound affection. They would realize at once, in their hearts of hearts, that they have been grievously unfair to these remarkable dogs. They’d have to admit to themselves that they were wrong and that they were lied to.

Because abused, brutalized and poorly socialized dogs don’t unquestioningly shower their affections and friendliest attentions on complete strangers. Dogs just don't work that way. Even the most demure, reserved, timid, tightly-wound Omega greyhound personalities can become beguiling, impish coquettes on their home turf, at the prospect of making a new friend.

I challenge anyone who is a true believer in the popular, false anti-racing narrative, to arrange a visit to kennel full of actively racing greyhounds, and to partake of the turnout festivities just once. And let the kennel operator or the trainers film your introduction to them. You won’t soon forget it. And you’ll know the truth, and then so will everyone else. You’ll also realize that you’ve been lied to by donation-grubbing, agenda-driven, anti-racing operatives, who must present the racing greyhound to you as a miserable object of pity, in order to maximize donations, and to promote their political and cultural agenda.

It couldn’t be any simpler, or more logical.

We won’t even have to point out the estimated 200,000 retired greyhounds of every conceivable personality type, who currently live out their lives as dearly beloved adopted pets, who have made their very challenging complete life adjustment with unprecedented acclaim, to understand that the anti-racing narrative is essentially a pack of lies.

It's elementary.