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  1. 31 points
    just got back from a little all nighter on the wye with my 3❤can't beat the outdoors with the little uns
  2. 29 points
    These are a couple of photos I’ve dug out from the old family albums. These were owned by my great grandad. Photos of both terriers were taken around 1910 in Derbyshire. Hope they are of interest.
  3. 25 points
    Hopefully these few old pictures and some of recollections from my early teens (the late 1950’s and early 1960’s) may be of some interest. They’re all old style “rag whippets” and pre date the requirement for a whippet to be registered with the Kennel Club in order to enter a race. Typically these dogs ran from about 14-20 lbs (sometimes smaller) and anything past say the mid 20’s would be questioned as to whether it was actually a true whippet (rather than maybe a whippet x greyhound). At that time, my father ran a “drinkers pub” in the heart of the Black Country (aka the Industrial Midlands). In the main it was frequented by steelworkers and almost exclusively those of the “sporting variety”. If you were known to have a genuine interest in Whippets, Staffords, Poultry or Pigeons then you were always made to feel welcome. But if not, you’d have very little in common with the regulars and be treated with a fair degree of suspicion. For as long as I can remember, this photograph always hung above the fireplace in the bar and that would be at least 60 years back and beyond. In those days the whippets ran in straight lines between strings and without muzzles, if they crossed out of their lane they were immediately disqualified, but rarely did. They were all hand slipped and ran to a rag waved by their owner at the end of the track. With hand slipping, you listened for the gun to go off and as soon as it did the dog would be flung through the air and hit the ground running. It was literally a “flying start”, very much an art in itself and it was often said that a good slipper could make you a yard to begin. So determined were these little dogs and so fierce their hatred for the “rag”, they would take hold of it in full flight. And in order to prevent them injuring themselves, the “rag man” would have to follow them through, swing them through the air still latched on and catch them under their arm (once again an art in itself). Before each race the dogs were publicly weighed by the Weighing Steward and then handicapped in accordance with the old “yards for pounds rule”, where for example a 19lb dog would be given a one yard start over a dog weighing 20lbs and so on. At that time there was none of this “handicapping on performance”, where a poorly performing dog was given a “fair chance” to beat something undeniably better. In my day, the weighing in process was normally carried out using an old fashioned balance scale which I always knew as a “Steelyard”. This was always carried out in complete silence, the only person who spoke was the Weighing Steward and anyone foolish enough to do otherwise was automatically viewed as “attempting to influence the Steward” and ran the very real risk of receiving immediate rough justice right there and then. “Old Jack”, my father’s mentor and benefactor, weighing a dog with the same “steelyards” I have at home today. My Dad was given a bitch pup by “Old Jack’s” son Joe, a very close friend and a man who’d inherited all the talents of his father. Throughout my entire life I only ever knew any of them to “gift” dogs, and then only to people who had earned their trust (not a mean feat in itself). Around the same time, a brand new soft drink was launched and as a Publican my father was being bombarded with advertising literature and requests to stock it. The drink was called Tango and that’s what they named the pup. “Tango” made 19.5lbs and earned herself a bit of a reputation. Between them they’d always had good dogs and were definitely “the ones to beat”, but this bitch was that little bit special and to plenty that were about at that time she was viewed as the best that there was. In fact so confident were Dad and his mates in that bitch and their ability to present her properly, that they had a challenge out to run any dog in the country, yards for pounds, over 120 yards, for a decent side stake of anything up to a maximum of £100 a side. When you consider just how long ago that was and the fact they were only ordinary working men, that was a lot of confidence to have, particularly when you consider I’d be about 13 or 14 at the time and when I started my first job at 17 my first week’s wages was £3/4s/2d (that’s about £3.21p in modern day money). Now before anyone shoots me down, I’m not saying there weren’t other good dogs about at that time (in fact there were plenty), or that there weren’t any which might have been able to beat her. But what I can say with my hand on my heart and 100% certainty is that of the handful or so which rose to the challenge, no one ever walked away with the purse. My apologies for banging on a bit, but once I’d found out these old photos the memories just came flooding back too. Y.I.S. and with the greatest respect for those no longer with us – Barrie P.S. I remember seeing a letter from a famous Hollywood actor who was very well known for keeping Staffords. It was a letter to “Old Jack” inviting him to America and offering to set him up with a house and pay him whatever he wished to “look after the dogs”. When his friends and family asked him what he was planning to do, his reply was “Why the f*** would I want to go to America, I don’t know anybody over there” and he really did mean it. They certainly don’t make ‘em like that any more.
  4. 24 points
    Bred several litters in the 1980s/1990s,..we worked them most nights,... Straight cross twixt Ardkinglas Deerhound and Irish Coursing Greyhounds.. The next cross, back to the Greyhound was always far more agile and useful product. Great dogs for the Roe... We then put our 3/4 bred hybrids over big whippets...then we were cooking... Terrific old-style longdogs,.great to see lads still enjoying them...
  5. 23 points
  6. 23 points
    Promised the little ins we could go 'camping' in the garden during school hols. You know life has changed when such an event gets your bivvy out for the first time in years! Wouldnt change it for the world. Controlled campfire in the bbq for toasting marshmallows. Priceless times.
  7. 23 points
  8. 21 points
    Went to bed feeling worn out, but happy, then.... At 2:30 this morning, we were bloody attacked by a startled sound of boar I'm in my hammock, belly full, a nice bit of drink and a spliff in me... the dog just starts growling. That low growl that a dog does when it really means business. Next thing was this almighty crashing and grunting, the dog goes f***ing mental. I jumped out of the hammock with my chopper in hand, head torch in the other and sees about 5-6 boar standing their ground about 10 yard away, stomping and mashing their teeth. Well I shit it obviously lol, started screaming get out of here rar blah blah and making as much noise as poss. This only eggs the fuucking dog on more, who at this point is trying to tear into them and nearly ripping the hammock down in the process, it was a fuucking scandal Thankfully the boar, after what seemed an eternity in a Mexican stand off, fuuck off, dog is still going crazy but pigs ain't dumb they knew he wasn't able to get at them and just wandered off as you like. Have to say I needed another spliff and finished the second hip flask after that heart like the clappers, shaking from adrenalin and the dog grumbling like f**k because I wouldn't let him loose. Jesus what a trip Dog's now happy... and I managed to save this little fella from certain death (fuucking cats!)
  9. 21 points
  10. 20 points
    BOSS....not mine,owners permission
  11. 20 points
  12. 19 points
    Been a long time since I posted a pic so here's my two I've been putting a lot of graft into last two years. Tbf turning out two very good finders smash cover and find them anywhere. Testing at times but still only young. Bred from a very good dog called fudge from Yorkshire beagle spaniel to a bitch I got bred of the same lads beagle spaniel terrier.
  13. 18 points
  14. 18 points
    And to be honest you haven’t missed anything full of f***ing idiots now used to be good when the coursing lads were on here until they back doored Gorger’s Lucas into a draw cuz they were to scared to slip the dozer on his third hare ffs and called the black assassin a jacker all you get now is what’s the best size in woman’s dresses for lamping and baked beans you might as well f**k off for another decade atb B.B.
  15. 18 points
  16. 17 points
    My mate rob runs his own shoot ,he puts every penny n hour into this little syndicate.BUt again foxes are the no1 pest .so we geared up and dropped on his spots ,there is 2 patches off whins plus good group off low tight trees .we had to wait till at least 7pm so it would cool down a bit. I only had Brian and young maggie with me,first spot produced nothing but rabbits. Second spot produced 3 Charlie's. One was hit hard to got to barley, so will be looking for that today .one cleanly escaped and 1 fell to the gun of the man himself. He was over moon .both young dogs done well hopefully hell be pest free for a month or 2
  17. 17 points
  18. 17 points
    Same pup, skin like elephant hide too
  19. 15 points
    If you want to see hatred look at the political left. From antifa to momentum to unite against hate. We arnt full of hate we are just pissed off. Being against giving power to the eu isn't hate. Being against mass immigration isn't hate. Being a nationalist isn't hate. Being wary of a religeon that punishes gays and subdues women isn't hate. The list goes on. We are call far right now for believing in a clean meaningful brexit. If that doesn't scare you then I don't know what will! My grandma sheltered her kids from nazi bombs, my grate aunt was a jew who escaped from Europe at the beginning of the war.....and we are called far right for simply having an opinion!!!! Fck off, people here, and in the country are sick of it.
  20. 15 points
    Thats the pups ready fit n healthy hopefully they will do well at the hunting
  21. 15 points
    he looks a happy chap
  22. 15 points
    Not in his class but my eldest girl drew this in less than an hour
  23. 15 points
    Not the best picture, one of a litter my mates got on, and what a litter it is, broke my old heart to leave him there.
  24. 15 points
  25. 14 points
    The best dog I ever had isn’t the dog I’d have again given the chance. Having a proper connection with a lurcher is a special thing and has been harder to replace for me than getting a lurcher to do what I need it to.
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