McGinty set out to meet his public each day with the profound conviction that everyone
he saw had got up that morning with the sole purpose of making his acquaintance.
He was a magnificent ambassador for the breed, and with advancing age became
ever more dignified and statesman- like. A couch-potato by profession, he considered anything less than 20 hours' sleep in every 24 to constitute sleep deprivation, but just when you thought that advancing years and arthritis were winning the battle, he would suddenly turn back the clock and gallop round the garden, rolling on his back in sheer pleasure and digging a hole worthy of a JCB. |
McGinty 15.5.94 ~ 31.5.02 |
McGinty (aka 'The Main Man'), was our first Irish wolfhound, and ruled the pack with
great authority until his death at the age of eight. With ears like a helicopter
and feet the size of dinner plates, he was never the best looking of wolfhounds
nor the tallest, but the force of his personality more than made up for
any physical shortcomings (including a soprano bark that was more suited to a Yorkie!).
Never a show dog, the only rosette he won in his life was for 'The dog the judge would most like to take home' at a pet dog show - and boy, were we proud!! |
His hobbies were line dancing and stamp collecting . . . . . no, seriously, his main
interest (apart from a bizarre fetish involving donkeys about which we will
say no more) was pussa-spotting. We believe he carried a secret notebook on his
walks in which he would record all feline activity in the neighbourhood, including
name, breed, colour and spookability! He combined the memory of an elephant with the stubborness of a mule and the appetite of a horse. His intelligence knew no bounds (well, maybe rocket science and computer programming were a bit beyond his grasp) and we believe he understood more than eighty words and phrases - that is not, of course, to say that he obeyed eighty commands - we are talking wolfhound here, not border collie, and, like most of the breed, McGinty would obey as and when it suited him. His going left a huge McGinty-shaped hole in our lives which can only be papered over, never filled. We will never forget him. |
