About Tia Rescue

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Home to up to 100 Greyhounds

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A great day out for the family

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Established by Deb in 1996

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Grey hound welfare remains a massive problem

Dogs arrive at Tia from all sources. Some direct from the trainers, others via a not so scenic route. One just walked up the drive, having been tipped out of a car. Dog wardens, vets, concerned public, an army of good folk all play a part. The phone never stops.

All get the same welcome and are given the once over upon arrival. A bath to get rid of any fleas, vet treatment if necessary, a good dinner and a soft bed. A note is made of their earmarks and microchip details taken. Before lights out, Deb makes the rounds alone checking everyone and passing around the sausages. For the newbies, it has been a hell of a day.

The day begins at 7.30 with breakfast, closely followed by the arrival of the kennel staff. Our fantastic volunteers may take them for a stroll around our orchard where they might come across a shire or a sheep or perhaps it will be a race around the run with their new kennel mate. For some it will be the first time they have felt grass under their feet or peed on a tree.. Then it’s back to their newly washed pen for another snooze.

The kennel block closes for the day at three o’clock sharp and their lunch is served followed by more sleep. Supporters and adopters mix with accountants, trainers and a biker desperate for a full English in our cafe. You never know who or what will turn up. A big round haybale, donated by a local school, or someone picking up a sofa or half a a dozen eggs from the girls. Our vets might arrive to work upstairs in our treatment room or perhaps the farrier pops in to trim Albies feet. Behind the scenes, admin staff may be dispatching stock to our many charity shops or identifying the new arrival, or perhaps doing the wages whilst sampling one of the new cakes. A photographer snaps away at a dog which needs a push and another dove goes missing courtesy of the buzzard. No day is the same.

The security team Millie and Chester (mastiffsRus) have their sabbatical stroll once the visitors have left. At eight stone a piece, meeting them on a dark night is not an option. They were bequeathed to us three years ago and have watched over us ever since. Seventy acres shudder when they turn over in bed or the shires decide to have a race. Sylvia, our ancient shetland pony who turned up in the back of a pick up, keeps the donkeys in line. Dandy and Beano watch with interest, standing shoulder to shoulder with the goats. We never see the great crested newts but the wildlife officer tells us they are there.

We can house 80 dogs at any one time, mainly greyhounds however the odd lurcher will sneak under the wire. At any time our whiteboard will list another 30 greyhounds waiting for a space. A good twenty of our greyhounds will never leave our care and are supported through our sponsor scheme. Nervous wrecks, severely injured or just plain barking, all have a home here in safety.