In truth there are many funny sights in dog agility and Flyball – as anyone who has seen a Corgi hurdling will know. For more information go to www.flyball.org.uk
TO THE RACES
Going to the dogs was once seen as a poor relation compared to a day at the races. But recently greyhound racing has undergone a transformation.
It started in earnest in the UK in 1926, after American Owen Patrick Smith had invented the mechanical hare which could lure dogs around the track. He’d come up with the idea 14 years earlier, hoping to stop the killing of jack rabbits.
Greyhounds are one of the oldest breeds of dog known to mankind, and are said to date back 4,000 years. They are referred to in the Bible and have been celebrated throughout history. They were the dog of the Pharaohs in Ancient Egypt, of rulers of Ancient Greece and of the landed gentry in England. So much so that for hundreds of years in Britain it was regarded as a crime for a peasant to own such an animal, since they were thought of as the sole property of the aristocracy.
During the reign of Queen Elizabeth I (1533–1603) hare coursing rules were introduced. The winner of the race was the dog that caught a live hare and this was the first form of greyhound racing. The sport was quick to exploit the fact that spectators were keen to lay bets on the winning dog, and this quickly attracted bigger crowds to the meetings.
Modern greyhound racing began in the UK at the Belle Vue Stadium in Manchester on Saturday 24 July 1926. The first race was won by a dog called Mistley. The sport was an instant hit, with interest spanning the length and breadth of the British Isles. It appealed as much to lords and ladies as it did to the working classes. Leading up to the Second World War it was very much in vogue to be seen ‘at the dogs’. Some hounds, like Mick the Miller, became national superstars. There was a big boom period which lasted right through the 50s and into the 60s, but then high street bookmakers and televised broadcasts of live horseracing caused gate numbers at greyhound stadiums to drop.
During the late 1960s and 70s the sport went through a lean period, and by the time Ballyregan Bob set a world record of 32 consecutive wins in the 1980s, the sport had gone into decline. However, the tracks continued to invest in facilities and went on to benefit from the sport’s resurgence in the 1990s. Indeed, track-based greyhound racing is now a world away from that day in 1926 when it made its first appearance.
There are 26 venues across the country and according to the sport’s governing body it is still one of the most popular spectator sports, with over two million people a year going to watch the live races. The stadiums feature restaurants and bars, corporate entertainment facilities and private boxes, all geared to watching the athletes deliver an adrenaline-packed night out, and the greyhound still stands tall above other breeds. They are the fastest dogs, reaching a top speed of 45 mph compared to humans at 28mph. They are the leanest breed: they have the best vision and are able to see clearly for half a mile, and they are officially the fittest: with a larger heart, lungs and more red blood cells than other canine breeds. In the air, they also have a ‘double suspension gallop’ (to you and me it means they run more like a cheetah than a horse). Indeed greyhounds spend 80% of their time in the air. It’s as close to ‘flight’ as a land mammal can get.
For more information contact the Greyhound Board of Great Britain, at www.thedogs.co.uk
AFGHAN RACING
If it’s not speed you are after, but dog racing with a twist, then Afghan hounds certainly offer that. They may not be quite as fast as the greyhounds but they are beautiful to watch with all their hair flying in the wind. Around the Ellesmere Port Dog Track, they maybe around six seconds slower over 260 metres, but they do have unique appeal and offer something a little different.
They are a sociable and playful breed, and in the training race I witnessed near Winchester in the mid-1990s, some of the dogs stopped along the way for a play fight. One of these paw scuffles then turned into something far more amorous, and the measly hare suddenly lost its appeal as love was in the air (and their hair).
Amanda Reed from the Ellesmere Port Afghan racing club said: ‘They do sometimes cut across their lanes and occasionally will stop for a play fight. Others may just stop and there’s one really fast dog who gets near to the finish line every time and then jumps over the barrier, so we can’t record his time. People do come to watch and have a laugh, and while it is about what time the dogs do, we don’t all take it too seriously’.
To add extra colour the dogs wear fancy dress rather than just their normal race jackets. It certainly makes for unpredictable racing. However, while there are still clubs up and down the country, due to reduced track access the future for the sport has become less certain. The annual season begins in March and for more information, go and see for yourself by contacting the Afghan Hound Association.
DOG DANCING (HEELWORK TO MUSIC)
First things first. We shouldn’t call this ‘dog dancing’. This makes it seem like something out of a circus and that couldn’t be further than the truth. It may be what people think it’s called, but the official name of this sport is heelwork to music.
It’s why I was crouched forward, microphone in one hand and a piece of sausage in the other. I waited rather uncomfortably, having seen the trainer’s bite marks around her fingers. There was a whistle, the music played, and the patter of feet behind me was followed by the prodding of paws on my shoulder. A border collie had come in to land. She was inch perfect and had taken the sausage without me feeling a thing. My relief was greater, because we were live on air, on Breakfast, and back in the studio Charlie and Louise were applauding the daring dog routine. It was part of a feature on the rise of ‘dog dancing’, or rather heelwork to music. It’s Strictly Come Dancing, or Dancing on Ice, for you and your dog. After Pudsey and her owner Ashleigh became famous across the world for their routine which helped them win Britain’s Got Talent in 2012, interest surged. But it’s actually been a recognised canine sport since the 1990s.
It’s why I was on the quayside outside the gleaming new studios at Media City in Salford, at 9.30 in the morning, with a border collie panting proudly in my right ear as it balanced on my shoulders. It was an honour because these weren’t any old paws, they were the talented feet of Fly, who along with trainer Karen Sykes was part of the British team that had just won the European championships in Denmark. I had interviewed Karen live and she had shown me a bit of the routine that had helped lift the title.
Now you might reasonably question whether this is a sport, so with this in mind, I went along to one of the weekly training sessions held at a centre near Northampton, run by the UK’s queen of heelwork to music, Mary Ray. She worries that calling it ‘dog dancing’ will alienate people and make it seem like an act that can’t be taken seriously. Watching Mary and her dog Levi in full flow put such concerns to bed. The communication between the two was telepathic, as Levi fetched items, sat, weaved and displayed pathos and comedy with paws and expressions, all in perfect time with the music.
‘It’s very competitive,’ Mary stressed, ‘and it is that way all over the world now. The choreography is the hard part. Anyone can put music on and just work the dog, but the difference with Torvill and Dean was that they choreographed their routine to fit the music. At the time they stood out from everyone else, and that’s what we have to do. We want to be taken seriously, if for no other reason, than as a way of promoting good dog training.’
Mary Ray started the sport in 1990, strictly as heelwork training, but with music playing in the background. Then as the sport progressed and became popular, choreography became more important, and gradually the need to add variety and a greater repertoire