Fergus Finlay: Greyhounds in Ireland face a cruel choice. Run very fast, or get killed

Greyhound racing is a sport that would simply not exist at all if it weren’t for a €20m subsidy that covers effectively 100% of its costs every year. A bad public policy if ever there was one

The idea that greyhounds are only happy if they’re chasing or savaging hares is a myth. In fact they have to be trained to do it. File photo: INPHO/Nick Elliott

For many of the years we’ve been married we’ve had a dog, often more than one. There was Hopscotch and Jo-Jo, Izzy (the best of them all) and Doglet, and then Lily. 

Izzy was big and gorgeous. But she was odd — a cross between a red setter and a collie. Collies are highly intelligent dogs; red setters are thick as planks. 

You might expect Izzy to be somewhere in the middle, but you’d be wrong. She was up to the kind of mischief only a clever dog can pull off, but she was so guileless she always gave herself away.

She was getting older when Doglet arrived in the house, but they became fast, and unlikely friends. Unlikely because Doglet was tiny — about the same size as Dougal in the Magic Roundabout, if you remember that. 

The technical name for her breed was Australian Silky, but she was like the Epstein of dogs. Because she was tiny there wasn’t much mischief she could get up to herself, but we believed that, for example, she trained Izzy to open the fridge when we were out.

I’ll never forget coming home once to find the contents of the fridge all over the floor. Doglet was in one corner, looking as pure and innocent as the driven snow. Izzy was in the other, cowering in guilt, a string of sausages hanging from her mouth.

We knew Izzy had never raided the fridge before Doglet arrived. There was no doubt really who the criminal mastermind was.

They all lived to a great age, all those dogs. And they all died in their time in our arms. We mourned them all. Izzy was cremated; we buried her ashes in our back garden and planted an apple tree over her. The tree grew really rapidly, and a year later produced a full crop of apples. Izzie’s parting gift to us.

Because of where we live now, having a dog isn’t practical. So we mind them when their owners have a need. We’ve minded Zoe, Marley and Bear for good stretches, and we’re looking forward to welcoming Willow when she’s old enough.

Every one of the dogs we love has had an illness or an injury at some time in their lives. That means trips to the vet, sometimes expensive trips, and an anxious time helping them to recover. But it’s always worthwhile. Our dogs have always been friends, part of the family, sometimes invaluable companions.

Maybe they’re lucky, because none of them have ever been greyhounds.

Greyhounds

You may have seen a story in last week’s Irish Examiner where an Irish semi-state organisation was forced to “clarify” remarks by its Chief Executive about the slaughter of Irish greyhounds. The headline on the Examiner piece was “Tim Lucey 'did not state that any number of deaths was acceptable', says Greyhound Racing Ireland”. 

The organisation, as you can see, was Greyhound Racing Ireland, and they had to come to the defence of their chief executive Tim Lucey, who told RTÉ that it was no longer the case that 6,000 greyhounds were “culled” in Ireland each year. “It’s less than half that now,” he said.

The thing is, Greyhound Racing Ireland has always sought to create the impression that it utterly disapproved of the killing of dogs. They are, I suspect, a bit embarrassed that their CEO has owned up to the figure of 3,000. As if 6,000 might be a bit much, but 3,000 was ok, or at least more like the natural order of things.

I’ve written here about this business — if you can call it that — before. Every time I do, our long-suffering editor gets letters from the vested interests and special pleaders attached to the greyhound sector. 

The tenor is always the same. I have no appreciation of rural life in Ireland. I don’t understand how much breeders love their animals. I don’t understand the basic nature of greyhounds, which is to hunt and chase. Basically, I’m a begrudger.

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There’s a PHD student called Chrissy Skelton (a student of Anthropology) who has posted this on the University of Maynooth’s website (I’m assuming as part of a research project): “They're easy to live with, low-maintenance and happy to be left alone to sleep”. 

That’s why he argues that greyhounds are great family pets. And as it happens, I know from direct experience (a very handsome dog called Bruno comes to mind) that is entirely true. The idea that greyhounds are only happy if they’re chasing or savaging hares is a myth. In fact they have to be trained to do it.

But when greyhounds are born and bred in Ireland, the vast majority face an entirely cruel choice. Run very fast, or get killed. That’s the basic foundation of the industry, or sport, or whatever you want to call it.

Government subsidy

Because of that entirely cruel foundation, greyhound racing has fallen into disrepute all over the world. In fact Ireland is one of only a tiny few countries in the world where it is still legal. In Ireland, it’s not treated as a sport, but as a traditional industry, whatever the hell that means.

And the industry, so-called, receives a ring-fenced subsidy each year from the Government. Currently that subsidy stands at €20 million each year. And it has been in place, without any question and precious little debate, for 25 years. That’s half a billion euro of tax revenue that goes to keep the industry alive.

It’s funded, promoted, fed and regulated by the state body I mentioned earlier. According to its most recent annual report, its total income in 2024 was just €20 million. Its present from the Irish taxpayer was over €19 million. Take that away and it cannot sustain itself for a week. 

But as long as we dole it out they will give €8 million out in prize money and spend a further €2 million on marketing and promotion.

The poor board members, who clearly sacrifice everything for their beloved sport, were paid €105,913. They must make a lot of fierce complicated decisions, the craythurs.

This is a sport and a body that would simply not exist at all if it weren’t for a subsidy that covers effectively 100% of its costs. Its only purpose is to act as a sort of clearing house for the prize money. 

The prize money is given out at race meetings that are increasingly a bad joke. According to their own figures, they ran 1,449 race meetings in 2024, and they attracted a total attendance of 358,141 people.

That’s an average attendance across the year of 247 people turning up to each race meeting.

Even if you could ignore the wanton cruelty of the greyhound industry — the run fast or die philosophy that underpins it — the whole idea of a massive state subsidy, guaranteed forever unless the law is changed, for a sport that is dying and an industry that cannot under any circumstances ever stand on its own two feet, is grotesque and absurd.

We, the Irish people, are supporting a cruel sport that cannot even break even without us. That is, by any standard, a complete definition of bad public policy.