In April of 2007 I had the opportunity to spend a week working with the North Shore Kennel at Wonderland Greyhound Park. Initially, my time was scheduled to include the opening week of racing, although that date was pushed back to the first week of May. I broke my time up to include four days in mid-April helping the kennel prepare for the opening and three race-days in May.
When I arrived on April 15 it was one of the coldest on record. A nor’easter was heading up the coast and talk of canceling the Marathon was the buzz of the town. I entered the kennel compound under gray skies and was pointed in the direction of North Shore.
I was surprised by how warm the inside of the kennel was. I was greeted by Johnny O’Donnell, Casey O’Neal and about 50 hounds. Thanks to my introduction to ‘greenies’ I had missed the first turnout but was just in time for the morning’s Dunkin’ Donuts run. I no longer had to wonder how my hounds had magically come home with an affinity for that orange and pink logo. I was warned to be very careful with my coffee – caffeine is a prohibited substance in Massachusetts.
In the kennel kitchen we enjoyed our breakfast while that of the hounds was prepared. A rich smell of cooking vegetables permeated the air as carrots and celery boiled on the stovetop. Ground meat was draining in the feed tub nearby. As we ate I learned a little about the group of hounds currently in the kennel. Over the long winter months when the track was closed, the kennel was primarily used to house dogs waiting for adoption, puppies fresh from the farm and getting their final training in track life, and dogs who needed a little R&R. With racing only a few weeks away, those dogs were no longer being moved to Wonderland – instead dogs were being shipped in ready to race in the meet’s opening week. Some of the pups and R&R dogs were being trained into shape while most of the retirees had long since moved into adoption programs.
After (human) breakfast I had my first introduction to the dogs. First came a quick lesson in how to turnout – how to put muzzles on squirmy pups ready to go; how to hold open kennel doors so they would not poke or catch on pups coming out or pups going by; and how to gently lower dogs from the upper crates onto the ground. Then it was out with the bitches into the first turnout pen.
Approximately 15-20 girls were running like crazy around me – jumping, hopping, sniffing and leaning. Some took advantage of the empty space at the other end of the pen to romp, play and make mischief. Most had names on either their muzzles or collars for identification. It didn’t take long before the names started coming quickly. That insistent presence at my side? Beautiful black and white Georgia. The mischief-makers in the corner were invariably Belle and Jazz (with occasional help from Olly or Cocktail).
As I was getting to know the girlie-girls, the guys were busy letting out the males into the adjacent pen. In each pen were two poop buckets and three pooper-scoopers. Aside from maintaining order, I was responsible for cleaning up after all the pups in my pen. Each dog needed to get attention – not just the scratches and kisses I was offering but a hands on evaluation of their physical condition (usually accompanied by scratches and kisses) by the kennel hands. Eyes had to be open for any lameness or soreness. Later I would learn the more intensive evaluations that followed a trip to the track for schooling or racing.
After about 20 minutes the girls’ pen was opened and they were moved into the kennel entryway. A separate gate opened between the two pens and the boys poured in! The girls moved on into the second pen (switching pens during a turnout keeps the dogs active and gives them new smells to sniff and areas to mark). The boys were, well boys – big, goofy and thrilled to finally get a chance with the ‘fresh meat’.
As was the case with the girls the names began to sort themselves out quickly. The two white brindles taking turns jumping on me were Teal and Ant; the beautiful red brindle with white chest and tips who gave kisses through his muzzle was Drew, and the giant 89lb black boy who towered over every other dog in the kennel was, of course, Brutus.
After giving the dogs equal time in the second pens it was time to move back inside for breakfast. Some of the pups were eager for food – they stood straight in front of their crate and waited for you to open the door and let them in. Others enjoyed making mischief and running around the kennel staying well clear of their own crates. Eventually all the pups were back in the correct spot and it was time to mix the breakfast.
The stewed vegetables and broth were dropped into the now-completely thawed meat. Mixed in was a high-performance kibble and calf manna (a supplement that provides amino acids from several protein sources along with yeast to promote healthy digestion). This mixture was wheeled in a large tub out into the kennel area. On either side of the feed tub were two stands; on one was a scale for weighing the food, along with bottles of vitamins, supplements and medications; the other was stacked high with stainless steel feed bowls. Casey began scooping large handfuls of feed into bowls, paying strict attention to which dog was receiving which bowl. Males typically received 2 ½ - 3lbs of feed, females around 1 3/4s lbs. Dogs recently shipped in to the kennel all had a dewormer mixed in.
Breakfast was followed by the final morning turnout. The turnout groups always remained the same and were divvied up based on a dog’s location in the kennel. Inside the large space were several hinged gates that divided the space into manageable numbers. Dogs and bitches always go out separately, although they can occasionally be housed next to one another. Typically bitches take the top crates, as they are lighter and easier to pick up if they won’t jump. Clean up is an important part of every kennel. While turnouts are always supervised, other kennel hands remain inside to clean crates. North Shore uses disposable paper bedding for their crates, while other kennels prefer carpeting. Paper is pulled out of the crate every day and the crate floor is swept to prevent sand from the turnout area from accumulating. If the paper is dirty or wet it is removed and discarded and fresh paper added. If the paper is clean it is fluffed up and reused. Paper can be used for 3-5 days as long as it remains clean and dry.
Other aspects of the kennel need attention too. The floor is swept religiously after every turnout. Crate groups are on wheels and can be moved to sweep under and behind them. The feed tub and all the dishes are washed and disinfected daily, as is the kitchen floor and sink. Water and poop buckets also get emptied and rinsed regularly. With so many dogs living together it is very important to keep everything clean. As I was told often “a clean kennel is a happy kennel”.
During the off-season the days are fairly typical. The morning routine is followed by afternoon and evening turnouts. In between is time to rest and relax, transport dogs or bring a pup to the vet. Two days stand out for being slightly different: the first was the day of the projected monsoon. Several inches of rain fell on the Boston area in a matter of hours. My dogs at home react to rain by hiding under the bed covers and refusing to go out until the need is absolute. Kennel pups also suffer the rainy day blues. On the day of the storm the dogs all ran outside with their typical verve – only to apply the emergency brakes and try to scoot back inside. Both turnout pens were half covered and half open – but on that day the dogs stayed strictly under the covers. They also would scratch at the door when the pens were being switched. And every time a human went in or out they would mass around the gate, hoping to go in too.
The following morning was clear and the racetrack had been harrowed and was in good condition. We took most of the dogs over to hand slip them. Hand slipping is a form of exercise used to get or keep the dogs in condition. They are brought onto the track and the lure is run but instead of entering the starting box they are held and released by handlers. They also do not typically run a full circuit of the course – depending on what the trainer is looking for they may only run half or three quarters of the way around. Our groups would go in two, three or four dogs.
I was surprised to be trusted with loosing several dogs during the morning. With the first dog I brought onto the track my heart was racing with nervousness. I was shown how to bend over the dog, holding his collar loosely and sliding my other arm under his tuck up then lift his hind legs to prevent him from breaking away from me. With my whole body enveloping the pup I could feel every beat of his heart – much faster than mine! We listened to the sound of the lure come closer and closer and both of our bodies tensed awaiting the sound of the starter telling us to “GO!” For the next dog my heart would race again – but not out of nervousness! I was able to see the reactions of several different types of dogs – old pros who stared straight ahead and broke clean and fast; young pups who kept trying to turn to watch the lure coming towards them, costing them valuable place early in the race; and lackadaisical stretch runners who didn’t put much effort into racing from the start but would pour on the speed through the stretch.
I returned to Wonderland several weeks later to experience three days of racing action. While much of the morning activity was the same the afternoons and evenings were much more active. Wonderland races four days a week and offers schooling races twice a week. In order to be entered in an official pari-mutuel start, a dog must run in a schooling race first to prove that he or she can successfully break from the box, navigate the course and run at race speed. This is done for the protection of the gambler as well as the owners of the other dogs competing at the track.
I arrived Friday afternoon, just in time to load up the dogs racing that evening. It was considered a slow night since we only had around a dozen racers! At Wonderland, the kennel compound is several miles from the racetrack, and the dogs must be delivered to the paddock several hours before first post. The racers were easily identified in the kennel – in addition to their turnout muzzles a bright white racing muzzle hung from their crate doors. In ones and twos they were led outside and into the waiting transport trucks. Each truck had crate-like compartments in the back, enough for eight, ten or more dogs. Some of the larger trucks even had trailers hitched up to transport dozens of dogs at a time.
Even though we were only a few miles from the track, the evening traffic made our ride almost half an hour. The pups were very excited when we reached our destination. Parking the trucks behind the clubhouse we began unloading. Our dozen dogs were joined by over a hundred other pups running in either the evening’s schooling or racing program. I led two racers inside the clubhouse and up to the paddock entrance. Tags with two numbers were attached to each of their collars. The first number was the race the dog was entered in, followed by the box they would break from.
I handed them off one at a time to a track official who led them onto the official scale. Their names were called out, followed by their weight. A dog must be within one and one half pounds of his official weight (which is listed in the program) in order to race. Then they were led down into the paddock compound, the responsibility of the State of Massachusetts for the near future. Outside the weigh in room, the schoolers were massing. The schooling races go off very quickly – there is no break between races to allow bets to be taken – and thus no need to crate the dogs between races.
Since North Shore did not have any schoolers we helped some of the other kennels who had many dogs running. I ended up with three dogs from a neighboring kennel. Two were competing against each other in the fifth race, the third was in the sixth. Track leadouts scurried about, quickly helping dogs into racing silks. Soon all the pups were dressed and the first race was being led to the track, with the second race runners lined up and ready to go out. When it was my turn I handed off my pups and ran outside to watch the last races.
The sun was low in the sky and the normally shiny coats of the dogs were glowing. Nothing could possibly be more beautiful than these majestic creatures extending themselves – muscles bulging and contracting as they flew around the track. The other kennel’s workers did not need help catching the dogs and I was free to watch as the sun set, washing the dogs in red and gold rays.
With over an hour between the last schooling run and the first race I was able to grab some dinner. My pre-trip research had found the hot dog special at the food stand dubbed “the best deal in Boston” and I would heartily agree. Finally it was race time. North Shore had dogs running in almost every race. I watched the leadouts bring the dogs out and parade them in front of the crowd. Dogs I might normally have called ‘goofballs’ emerged with their game faces on. Attention seekers in the kennel or turn out pen didn’t turn a hair as people called their names or commented on their looks. These were professionals and they only had eyes for the starting box.
Despite the obvious competitiveness of the dogs, the kennel workers were very convivial. We waited together near the first turn gate as the dogs moved into the box. The camaraderie was obvious as they complimented each others’ dogs or offered assistance if a person had more than one dog in a race. As the race went off there were words of encouragement and cheers for an individual’s dogs, but also for the performances of all the dogs. At races end there were no sad faces, but congratulations to the winning connections. The dogs were welcomed off the track to comments like ‘nice job’ or ‘we’ll get ‘em next time’ and lots of pats.
At least one dog would be pulled aside coming off the track for the mandatory post-race drug testing, but otherwise everyone would retire to a small building just off of the clubhouse. Inside were cool down areas for each of the kennels, with buckets, towels, brushes and other equipment set up. Some of the kennels kept treats there to give the dogs (one even had marshmallows!) but North Shore dogs had to wait until they returned to the kennel where they would each get a milkbone. Each dog’s feet and legs were scrubbed quickly and thoroughly and their eyes and noses were cleaned of any grit. Racing muzzles were scrubbed with hot water and all of the racers’ turnout muzzles were there. There was also cool water for the dogs to drink before heading outside to walk. The dogs walked for 10-15 minutes until they were no longer blowing (panting) then they were loaded into the kennel trucks to await the ride home, while we kennel workers would rush back up to the track with (hopefully) enough time to catch the next race.
Typically halfway through the race card someone would take a full truck back to the kennel compound to start getting the dogs ready for bed. The racers would be turned out in the pens where they could be examined for any stiffness or nicks. Any sand missed by the initial clean up would be brushed off. The dogs were then brought back into their crates where dinner (and their milkbones!) was waiting. Going over the dogs’ physical condition after a race was very important. They would get a thorough check up the night of a race, and another the following day. In between starts the dogs were treated to intensive massages (something I would learn how to perform the following day) and any residual aches would be soothed with a special mixture that smelled an awful lot like Ben-Gay.
On race nights we didn’t finish until after 11 o’clock, but we still had to be back at 6 am the next morning. Turnouts wait for no man! Nor does breakfast, but during racing season breakfast does wait for a weigh in. After the first turnout we started bringing out the dogs scheduled to race that evening or the next and load them onto the kennel’s scale. A blackboard with every dog’s official weight hung over the scale and we were very careful to see how close each dog was to that number. Dogs who weighed a little less would get extra food, dogs who weighed too much less. If a trainer brings a dog to the paddock that is outside of it’s official weight range, the trainer can face a fine or suspension and the dog is not allowed to race so weight checks are very important in a kennel.
Racing muzzles were kept next to the scale and after a dog was weighed it would be fitted for a muzzle. The muzzles came in several sizes, and they typically had the names of two or three dogs that regularly raced in them. The muzzles were fitted on the dog and any adjustments needed were made. Racing muzzles should fit as loosely as possible to avoid impairing a dog’s performance but not so loose that they risked falling off during a race.
Once the muzzle was properly adjusted the dog would go back in his or her crate and the muzzle hung directly from the door latch. Most of the dogs racing that day would not eat anything until after the race, and by attaching the racing muzzle to the latch everyone knew not to feed that dog. Exceptions were made for dogs whose weight was questionable or certain dogs whose history indicated otherwise. Bowls of prepared food were covered and kept in the refrigerator until the evening.
During my time in the kennel only one dog was retired and adopted. It was a sad time in the kennel as everyone took time to say goodbye to the boy, Anchor, who was very sweet and quite a gentleman. I was lucky to follow many of my favorites via live streaming video online for many months to come, and see several in person at the annual Adoption Expo in June. There many of the wonderful people I met were working hard, not with their normal kennel chores but running the Fun Run, speaking at the seminars, and mingling with the attendees. So many adopters are taken aback when a perfect stranger walks up and starts patting their pup in all the right places, remembering small personality quirks and able to talk at length about a retired racer, his littermates and parents. But is it truly a surprise? With days starting near dawn and ending close to midnight weekdays, weekends and holidays only the truly dedicated last at the racetrack.
One trainer I met had eleven retired greyhounds at home, in addition to three thoroughbreds that raced just down the road at Suffolk Downs. One of the sadder stories I heard during my time was from the children of one employee who talked about receiving prank phone calls and being ostracized at school because of her father’s profession. Certainly those anonymous people had never been to the kennels at Wonderland and spoken to the people who dedicate their lives to caring for these dogs. In the kennel compound I was invited into most of the buildings, more than one trainer asking if I “wanted to meet his babies”. This experience has left me with such respect for the men and women who spend their days and nights caring for the dogs I hope to welcome into my home in the future.
