Ah now I didnt know of the existence of this greyhound...but perhaps it dashed off in the dead of the ghostly night at the speed of a galloping..welll errmmm ..greyhound. However this episode, sad though it is, reminds me of the time long ago when my poor ould father, lord rest him, when he bought a greyhound with the intention of winning the Irish Derby. You know the term "someone sold him a pup!" ...well never was the term more appropriately used.
The dog ran like a statue, in fact the one mentioned above by Barry WS probably moved quicker. My poor ould father went to the trouble of registering the animal with the racing authorities in Ireland so confident was he. The sad truth began to unfurl when the young pup grew into adulthood and was taken to a racetrack proper where assorted stopwatches monitored his perforance against dogs who could actually run.
The game was up...alas. the dog was slower than McGinty's goat! Never was a human being so crestfallen as my poor ould dad. The dog thereafter became a family pet where he preceeded to eat us out of house and home!
Over the quarter mile straight run I could beat him!
