Now, where do we start?

I’m not going to bore you by rhyming off my history. All you need to know is that I’m an Australian born ex-racing greyhound, rescued from the Brisbane RSPCA. I live my life with a Scottish dad and an English mum, living in England for now. However now and again there may be some conversational clashes. Yes dad, grunts and shoving random letters together and calling them words does not constitute good language skills. They are very demanding of love and attention and just to illustrate a point I’ll tell you about my flight to England. 

I appreciate that long haul flights aren’t fun for anyone but I laughed when the old’s were complaining about having to fly cheap Malaysia Airlines while I flew Qantas. Believe me, there was no TV, no complimentary ice cream and nuts. The only thing the steward brought me was a top up to my water bowl. The funny thing is it promptly sloshed over me in take off! I’d have loved to watch Hotel for Dogs while snuggling up to the in-flight cushion. Instead they shove you in a box for an eternity with only my bed to ‘empty out’ into and then…then, when I finally get out, the old’s expected me to be happy to see them. Needy or what? I just wanted to sleep on something that didn’t reek. Hat’s off to the people at each end of the flight though, they did a grand job.

Anyway that all to one side, my life is pretty rosy now, Australia was amazing but how many greyhounds get to travel the world? I’m glad that the hardest thing I have to think of is where to go to sleep next.