We are greyhound owners and active participants in our local greyhound rescue centre. We love our dogs and are proud to have turned the skinny nervous wrecks we received into confident loving pets. Few people realise what a tough life these dogs have and we'll write more about this another time.

As promised, here's the tale of our two Greyhounds.

Pingu and Slinky came into our lives in August 2007, following the death of our beloved ten and a half year old Great Dane, Sophie.  Sophie had been on "borrowed time" following a serious illness 9 months before but she was happy and playful right up to the day she had a stroke and had to be put to sleep.  Knowing her time with us was limited, she was to some extent pre-mourned.  That is not to say we weren't devastated when she went, but rather that we'd had time to think about, and discuss, what was to follow her when the time came.

We discussed things ad nauseum and finally decided that after three Danes in succession, it was time for a change.  My wife had a "thing" about Greys and so we contacted our local Greyhound rescue centre.  We filled in a questionnaire and, following a detailed inspection, our garden was deemed "Greyhound safe".

It so happened that there was a fund raising event on the Saturday of that week and we went along to meet other owners and their dogs.  We met several dogs that needed re-homing and then met these two little heart breakers.  Pingu, was thin and in poor condition. aged two, he'd never raced  and was quite perky.  Slinky, on the other hand was a total mess.  His coat was dreadful, a faded fawn/brown colour.  He weighed in at 24.5 kg s  Every bone in his body could be seen and his eyes had a haunted, dead look to them.  We decided on the spot we wanted them as soon as possible.  We were missing Sophie and wanted a dog.  In front of us were two poor Greyhounds in desperate need of a proper home.  They were being fostered not far away and had only been in England for 10 days following rescue in Ireland.

The following Tuesday they arrived at our home and Pingu promptly set off to explore, Greyhound fashion, which entailed racing around our, quite large garden at 35mph or more and stopping for a sniff now and then.

The true nature of what we'd taken on was revealed when we looked at Slinky.  He stood on the patio, head hanging down and had clearly given up on life.  Many tears were shed when we thought about what had brought this about.

Slinky's racing career ended in November 2005 but he'd only surfaced again in July 2007.  In the meantime he'd acquired a lot of scars some of which were obviously from barbed wire and others that looked suspiciously like cigarette burns.  This is in addition to the scars that racing Greyhounds pick up during their time at the kennels. The anger we felt towards the brainless scum who'd reduced a lovely dog to this parlous state can be imagined. We still get upset when we think about what the poor dog must have suffered.

The first trip to the seafront revealed the sheer terror at the sight of a stick in any form.  Children's crab nets to fishing rods or Zimmer frames, the result was that Slinky turned into a cowering, quivering wreck and tried to hide.

Over time Slinky grew his new coat, put on over 10kgs and gained confidence.  No more is he afraid of sticks and has developed a really cute personality far removed from the wretched creature we took on.  We cannot believe the good fortune that brought these two dogs into our lives.