When I was first invited to attend the Grey Hound races at Cranbourne just outside of Melbourne I immediately tried to think of a reason as to why I couldn't go...nothing came to mind so I just said "I'm not sure" not the best response. But after thinking about it some more I thought why not? I do love dogs and a good bogan. My next thought was what do you wear to the grey hounds? Hmm it isnt the races or the polo and it's not exactly a place 'to be seen'.
The next thing I knew I was in the car on my way down to watch the Cranbourne Cup 2011 in a floral dress and my Chanel flats. I half knew that when I walked in no one would be as dressed up as me but what I didn't know was that we would be the most modern people there. No joke it was like we had stepped on to the set of The Castle with Darryl Kerrigan circa 1996 or '86.
We went outside to check out the dogs, and I was horrified to see a pregnant woman sucking one back. Yuk the ciggies were going off. The dogs however were pretty and sleek their trainers were not. I was sad to learn that after the dogs reach their peak racing age (about 3/21 in dog years) most of them are destroyed in mass graves. The Grey Hound racing Board is trying very hard to deter and amend this cruelty. We had a few bets and my bet on Daddy McCool won. Naturally.
Would I go back...maybe if i was allowed to pat the babe K9s.
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