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For Wilma

For Wilma

For Wilma, a beautiful senior Greyhound who touched my heart . In 2015 I was developing my watercolour style and my Rainbow colouring palette.  I was producing a painting for a friend in New Zealand, Tracey, who had a Greyhound called Wilma. Wilma had been rescued as a senior  and was afraid of everything, but with Tracey’s help Wilma slowly began to trust. I had just adopted Daisy so we had greyhounds in common, we were both new to Greyhound rescue and were discovering more and more about the Greyhound racing industry and these amazing dogs.  Tracey, appalled at how Wilma had been abused,  dedicated her time to uncovering the murky truth behind the Greyhound racing industry, and found that the abuse and mistreatment, drugging and killing of greyhounds was rife throughout the industry.   Tracey opened a Facebook page Called “Saving Wilma.  – slow, broken, old, Greyhound Racing’s dirty little secrets” and held fundraisers, raising money and awareness for Greyhound rescues. I painted portraits of Wilma for auction, and gave away portrait vouchers to raffle. The fundraisers were huge with a world wide following.  I was following a page by Paul Croes,who is based in Belgium and has produced some amazing animal photography.    Paul Croes- Behind eyes- animal photography in  studio He photographed sighthounds in the most exquisite poses, and I asked If I could paint one of these poses, a white Galgo, as a subject for a fundraiser. He very graciously said yes! I started this portrait as a prize for the auction, and while painting got the awful news that Wilma had died.  This was such sad news, she was the gentlest dog and had only just begun to have her own sweet life. I decided to name the painting after Wilma, and hinted at wings in the background.  This has been one of my most popular images, and is available as a print from Print Art NZ https://www.artcollective.co.nz/product/for-wilma/  I was delighted at the response from the public regarding this painting. In my heart it was for all the fallen Greyhounds, but it will always be a reminder of a sweet old girl from New Zealand called Wilma, who became a well known name in the rescue of Greyhounds, and in whos name, thousands of dollars were raised to help other rescues around the world.  Since painting this portrait, I have donated portrait vouchers to many rescues and fundraisers, and had the delightful task of painting some amazing animals over the past years.  I hear some sad stories, stories of triumph over adversity, and hear of heartbreak as a beloved pet dies. I love painting these portraits for you, it is such an honour to be asked to create a memory, even a sad one, and  tears are the best compliment I can be given, it means I got it right. 

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“It’s Time.” Goodnight Daisy

“It’s Time” Goodnight Daisy. Daisy was my introduction to the wonderful world of rescued greyhounds.  I adopted her through GAP, Perth, when she was just a little over 3 years old, she was tiny, weighing just 19kg.Her story to this point had its ups and downs, she had raced 4 times and didn’t place as she didn’t like getting bumped, so she ran wide. Daisy went into the GAP rehoming program, and was part of the Greyhound Prison Rehabilitation program, where inmates train and help the greyhounds get ready for adoption. Daisy was adopted by a couple, but unfortunately, was not treated well. This sweet little Greyhound  was very emaciated, very withdrawn and covered in fleas, they dumped her back with GAP saying they “Couldn’t be doing with her.”Daisy went on to a couple of foster homes, but was reactive to cats, rabbits, chickens and birds.  I had just lost Max, a Border Collie cross, and was looking for a companion for our Labrador Cross, Harvey. I took Daisy as a foster. This poor little girl was so tiny, I  nicknamed her my “little bird,” as she felt so fragile. She was beautiful  but had the worst breath imaginable.  Her teeth were so rotten, her gums terribly infected and ulcerated, and she must have been in terrible pain when eating. I asked GAP, “What do we do about her teeth?” I was told “Nothing until she’s adopted! “I was horrified, how long had this sweet girl been in such discomfort? This was so cruel! I adopted her there and then, and took her straight to the vet. She took 6 weeks of treatment, steroids and antibiotics, before they could do any dental work, and slowly, over the years,  her teeth were all removed,  bar 1. If I had known then what I knew after all her teeth were out, that she could eat really well, I’d have done it sooner. As a direct result of her terrible dental care in early life,  Daisy developed  severe cardiac problems.  Daisy was a happy girl, very easygoing, dainty and quiet. I was lucky enough to be in her life for 11 and a half years.  Daisy and Otis, my other Greyhound,  were  seen at greyhound adoption meetings, and were a brilliant ambassador for the breed. I loved their elegance, the way the ran for fun, their crazy zoomies around the garden, and hours of couch surfing. Daisy became my muse. Several paintings of her graced my walls, she was dainty, sleek,  a stunning subject. Through Daisy I became involved with several Greyhound and dog  rescues, donating artwork for Auctions. My commissioned art work became popular within the greyhound, and Sighthound groups.  I didn’t realise when I fell in love with Greyhounds that I had joined a cult.  Daisy died at 14 years 4 months. Longer than ever expected considering her severe heart failure.  She surprised us and out lived Otis by 10 months.  Once again my heart was broken, but we did give her the BEST life we could, and she repaid us tenfold.  I painted “It’s Time” before she died, when she was quite ill and it was obvious time was no longer on our side. I knew that once Daisy died I wouldn’t be able to paint her. I chose to paint her this final time, depicting the moment she leaves for  the Rainbow Bridge.  Her face alert and intrigued,  her body just starting to disappear into the light. And just like that….She has gone….. Daisy, my “Little bird,” run swift and free sweetheart, you were so beautiful. We walked some happy and amazing miles together.  Between Hello and Goodbye there was so much love. 

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Saying Goodbye

Saying Goodbye. Losing Otis To lose a dog is hard, its a raw emotion that affects everyone in different ways, but there is no doubt, its a very hard decision many of us have to make. As followers from my Facebook page will know, I recently lost my Greyhound, Otis. I had been in his life for 7.5 years out of his 13 years on this planet. He came to me as an emergency Foster for “Busselton Greyhound Awareness” in Western Australia, they spotted him on Gumtree as a “Free to good home”. (They had initially fostered him when he finished racing, and recognised him immediately). They couldn’t get the owner to contact them, so asked would I try. I got a response and said I would foster him until he found him a good home. They dropped him off at my home, he lay on the cool floor on a hot, January day, and just stayed there. As they left he made no move to say goodbye or even raise his head as they went out of the door. It was so sad. This boy had resigned himself to being “Left behind.” I found out his story was similar to his first Adoption, a blended family adopted him and had him for roughly a year, then when they split up, the dog went back to BGA for foster. What was wrong with this beautiful, Blue-Brindle, long boy? That’s just it, there was NOTHING wrong with him, he was sad, and he was just waiting to see what came next. Well, I came next. There was no way this boy was going anywhere again where someone else could let him down, so I made a promise, come hell or high water, he was staying with me for the rest of his life. I already had a greyhound, Daisy, who was 8, and a gorgeous boy Harvey, a Heinz 57, with a super gentle nature, who was 10. Such a handsome greyhound Adjusting to a new home Several days went by and Otis was slowly interacting, but most of the time he just lay on the floor, he would wag his tail, a thump – thump on the wooden floors, and raise his head if you called his name. He walked like he was on a mission, no time to stop, while Harvey made his way through orange orchards, with Daisy trotting alongside, Otis was quiet, but he was safe. Fast forward two years…. I had noticed subtle changes, he would rather be in the room with me, he was interacting with Daisy. By this time, I had lost Harvey, another soul dog who is still carried in my heart, so Otis’s role changed, it was his turn to be man of the house, but under Daisy… she was definitely the boss! Then one day as I was in the art room, he came looking for me, I was deep in thought and was nudged by a wet nose on the elbow, he made me jump, he snuggled in for a 3-minute pat and back rub, then shook, and went back to his couch. This began to happen more and more, then after 3 years he actually got on the same couch as me. As I returned home from… anywhere… he would great me at the gate with the happiest of playful dances, followed by zoomies round the yard, more playful dances and then off to the couch. His transition from solo dog to family pet had been made in his head. I think he realised he wasn’t going anywhere, WE were HIS pack, he was here to STAY. Acccepting new family members A new Dad and Brother I met my husband, Paul as lockdown hit, so when he moved in Otis accepted him and his puppy, Shadow, his new brother, his new Dad, willingly. Otis was a happy boy, social butterfly, very cheeky and a lazy couch potato, but the best ambassador for the Greyhound breed. Otis wowed people, they fell in love with him, he was soft furred and stunning looking. He loved his walks, he got so excited, would leap into the car and await his harness being put on, and his hunnyboots. He was dressed for an outing! He would follow one lady, Deb, around the park in her mobility scooter, actively seeking her out, she had treats and lot of cuddles, he was in heaven. He had canine mates who he loved to greet, then he was off on his human rounds, peemails and treats. It’s time Otis fell whilst running and injured his back 3 years ago, nerve damage left him wobbly in his legs and clumsy. He carried injuries and problems with dislocated toes from his racing days. An infected toe injury turned to septicaemia, despite all our efforts to keep in clean and treated, it took a toll on his Kidneys. He nearly died.  He was on pain relief and heart medication in the end, and it didn’t slow him down or stop him, he still had little wobbly trots and would flash you the cheekiest smile if you tried to make him slow down as he zoomed past. Unfortunately, all this took a toll on his aged body. Otis hid illness well, ever stoic, but  cut a toe nail or remove a bandage and get the howl of doom in return, yet when he was in pain, real pain he was silent.  He was quiet and slow over the last couple of days, then deteriorated quickly. A trip to the vet for, we thought, something to stop his nausea and vomiting, it led to blood tests revealing Kidney failure.  Otis was tired, he was ill, and he was in pain. We held him gently, yet firmly in our arms and said the hardest goodbye I have ever said. Our hearts were broken, our loving boy had gone.  Thank you to everyone who expressed sadness and messaged, he was so loved by

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