Pan’s Hill Sprint Adventure

by Jess Flanagan (Trapsyke Lancashire Heelers)

Hi, I’m Pan (a Lancashire Heeler), Trapsyke Pandemonium to the showing crowd, or Pan-Cake when I’m being especially cute!

I’ve been accompanying my Humum (Jess) and her friend Lou, with her three beautiful whippets, to racing club since I was tiny, as Humum says it is good socialisation for me.

One day, when I was about six months old, the nice people at South Cotswold Pedigree Whippet Racing Club, thought it was high time that I had a go, as that fluffy ‘mousey’ (the lure) was just so enticing that I couldn’t behave, or shut up, when it was speeding past.  I had to have a go, I did, and it was FAB!!  The club awarded me ‘Dog of the Day’ as I was so enthusiastic, showed so much potential (for a short-arse) and as I loved it soooo much!  I even tried the ‘traps’ (box thingies, a bit like my bed crate, but the door pings open when the mousey runs past)… I even loved this!  Lou’s youngest, Dexter (who is a handsome blue, two months older than me and my bestest friend) was scared of the traps at first, and couldn’t chase the mousey for more than a few yards before chickening out and running back to Lou, but I’m much braver than him.

There have been suggestions of making me an ‘honorary whippet’ and even talk of organising me a special ‘clearing trial’ so I can get a special racing passport, like Dexter, Daisy and Morrissey whippet all have!

A few months after this (in summer 2009) Humum was told there would be a ‘Hill Sprint’, organised by the Venture Hill Sprint Club, where not only whippets, but lurchers and terriers could race too. So Humum announced that I was an ‘Ormskirk Terrier’ and I was entered.  My first real race!

The day dawned fine and clear, I was loaded up in the van with the whippets, and warned not to let on that I was really a cow dog, not a terrier, and we set off.

When we got there, I realised that ‘Hill Sprint’ was a bit of a misnomer, as there wasn’t a hill in sight!  It was being held at Taunton Polo Ground, which is dead flat, but the mousey was there, and it looked ready!

There were 12 lurchers, 34 whippets and just 2 terriers entered (me included), and when we met my rival, Humum stated that I didn’t have a chance, as ‘Higher Gorton Girl’ (Tilly to her friends) was a 3 yr old ginger Jack Russell/Patterdale type, whose legs were three times the length of mine, and I was a squirt, with stumpy legs, not quite a year old!

We had two races, of about 200 yards length, and we had to wear special knitted collars.  Mine was white and Tilly’s was red.  Apparently this is so the line judges could tell us apart, I did think this was a bit silly as we look completely different, but that’s the rules.  I was a bit disappointed that there were no traps, but instead we went out of ‘slips’ which seems to mean that a nice man in a red coat lets us go when the mousey runs past.  The slipper was very pleased with us, ‘cos we were both so well behaved for him, apparently he normally favours chain mail gloves when working with terriers.  He remarked on how nice and friendly I was, but I wasn’t really interested in him.  That mousey was hiding somewhere!

The first mousey shot past, Humum and auntie Lou told me to ‘go get that mousey’ the slipper let us go, and off we ran!  That mousey was really fast, it could have been ‘cos Tilly was really fast, it always seems to run just faster than the fastest dog, and by the time it was 50 yards down the track, I was on my own.  I looked round for Humum, and nearly ran back to her, but she and Lou screamed ‘GO GET THAT DAMN MOUSEY!’ and Humum started to sprint alongside the track, so I focussed back on the mousey and ran my little tan socks off!  Somehow, I managed to catch it. Tilly was already there and she said she’d already killed it, but I had to give mousey a poke to make sure it was dead, and when Humum reached us, it came back to life and jumped off the floor (not sure how, but humans seem to have magical revival skills) so I jumped and caught it and gave it a good ragging… mousey died… again!
Everybody was very impressed,  they said I look like a demented guinea pig when I run.  Must be a compliment?  Humum was beaming as she told anyone who missed it that I’d ‘Panned’, but as I’d tried my hardest and had obviously had fun, she said she didn’t care that I lost.  Apparently the point of racing is to have fun.  I was taken back to the van, and given an energy drink (yum) and a rest before my next race, and Daisy, Lou’s pretty blue, slow-bred (sorry ‘show-bred’) lady whippet confirmed that winning isn’t the point, it is all for fun.  Morrissey (or Mozzy, Lou’s full-on, race-bred, noble, fawn and white boy) tells me otherwise, but he’s really fast, and he won his stake that day, which means he’s nearly a hill sprint champion, so his opinion really doesn’t count.

In the next race, I wanted to impress Mozzy, so I focussed real hard on the mousey and tried so hard to win, but alas, that day was not my day and I still finished nearly half a field behind Tilly.

Tilly and Mozza reckon I need to stand in a grow-bag if I want to win, but that sounds boring.  I think I like racing the way Humum and Daisy see it, it’s more fun that way. I always get to catch the mousey, and if I’m not bothered about winning, just running, I can’t lose!  After the races, I slept all the way home and had an extra tasty tea, so I know I did good!

By Pan-Cake, with the help of Humum, Jess Flanagan.