Wheelistically @ Claire.NU

Today, our hand­some boy cel­eb­rates his fourth birthday.

Ziggy,

This past year, you’ve been brave: You’ve gained a new play­mate and com­pan­ion in pos­sibly the most mis­chiev­ous Whip­pet that ever lived. Although Hector’s arrival has spawned quite a few more grey hairs (both yours and mine), you have gradu­ally wel­comed him into the ranks.

There were times where we thought we’d made a mis­take; that you couldn’t cope with another dog. Your anxi­et­ies and lack of social skills saw you revert to “ken­nel beha­viour”, for a while you became con­fused and was unsure of your place in the pack: whether to chal­lenge us for the top, or sink to Omega with your tail between your legs and your belly in the air.

Over time and with our help, you now recog­nise your place with us. Where once you growled and bolted in fear, when hav­ing your space invaded, you now will let Hec­tor curl up next to you, pressed against your body for warmth and (so long as he doesn’t fid­get too much) you will share your bed without flinch­ing. You greet Hec­tor with a wag and he stands patiently as you slink along­side him, your nose prob­ing beneath him to identify his scent. Sat­is­fied then, that this is your com­pan­ion, you will then mer­rily trot along, scent-marking over the top of Hector’s “offer­ings” (and some­times, even over the top of Hec­tor!) and, with enough per­sist­ence on Hector’s part, will be goaded into a game of chase.

I will never tire of watch­ing you run. Noth­ing is more exhil­ar­at­ing to me than the thun­der of your paws pound­ing the ground beneath us as you belt passed. The double-suspension gal­lop, char­ac­ter­istic of your breed, cre­ates the illu­sion that you’re swim­ming across the earth; with each mil­li­second you are sus­pen­ded moment­ar­ily in mid-air: all four paws leav­ing the ground not just once, but twice with each stride.

No mat­ter where we take you, be it a piece of fenced-off farmer’s land or an enclosed play­ing field, whenever someone catches a glimpse of you run, they stop in their tracks and do a double-take. At full-speed, you are a for­mid­able force and in close quar­ters, an impress­ive (and some­times intim­id­at­ing) sight.

You are never as happy as when you are off-lead and run­ning at full tilt. Your back is arched, your thick neck out­stretched and nar­row, pointy head kept low, hulk­ing your mus­cu­lar shoulders round as they pro­pel you for­ward. Your lips, bear­ing the brunt of the air res­ist­ance peel back under the sheer force to show your teeth to their full extent; it’s this that gives people the (ulti­mately mis­ap­pro­pri­ated) impres­sion that your kind is snarling, aggress­ive or fero­cious in nature.

Whereas, people who know Grey­hounds? All we see is you smil­ing. Grin­ning that big houndy grin of yours as you do exactly what you were bred to do: Run, run like you just can’t get there quick enough; Run­ning for the sheer joy of running.

Ziggy: The Birth­day Boy

Happy Birth­day, “Big Zig” — may your day be full of treats, big runs, gentle walks and good sniffs.
Love,
Your Doggy-Mummies and your little “brother”, Hector.