“Horrific welfare issues” claim in new doco about British sport | UK | News

They are sleek, graceful, lightning-fast animals and are by far the fastest dogs on the planet. Greyhounds can reach an impressive 45 miles per hour at top speed. But their role in sport across Britain is slowing down. Shortly after the Second World War, greyhound racing became one of the UK’s second most popular spectator sports after football, with an estimated 70 million punters passing through the turnstiles annually and 77 stadiums in operation.

Today, according to the Greyhound Board of Great Britain (GBGB), that number has fallen below two million and there are only 19 licensed stadia. The Welsh government is currently debating whether the sport should be banned entirely in Wales due to concerns about animal welfare.

And this week, Going to the Dogs, a new documentary about greyhound racing, was released in cinemas. It both celebrates the sport’s place in British working-class culture and gives voice to animal welfare activists who oppose it.

“For me, the film is all about class, culture and community,” director Greg Cruttwell tells the Daily Express. “Greyhound racing is the working man’s ultimate sport.”

Cruttwell, 65, from Aldringham, Suffolk, who became immersed in dog racing to research the film, fears the sport now faces an existential crisis; Stadiums regularly fall prey to property developers and activists who are campaigning to ban racing across the UK. “I think greyhound racing has a chance but the jury is out on whether it will survive,” he admits. “A skeleton of a trace is left behind compared to what once existed. This is a very important point right now.”

Cruttwell says the sport hit rock bottom in 2019, when a shocking documentary reported that thousands were being culled in Ireland, where many greyhounds destined for British racecourses were bred, simply because they couldn’t run fast enough.

“The welfare issues were terrible,” Cruttwell admits. “There were stories of dogs being stuffed into garbage bags, shot, thrown into garbage cans.”

However, he believes the inevitable backlash, such as industry representatives being summoned to parliament and sponsors fleeing, has had a positive impact.

“Even though it was terrible, this documentary was the best thing because it meant the sport was trying to clean up its own act,” he explains. “Many welfare rules and regulations have been implemented since then.”

One person who loves the sport is greyhound trainer Rab McNair, whom Cruttwell interviews in his film. The man, originally from Scotland and now living in Kent, has been involved with greyhounds all his life. As a child, he would walk his father’s dogs in the mornings before going to school.

A week before marrying his wife, Liz, who now trains dogs with him, McNair gambled away all the money he had saved for their wedding on one of the greyhounds he had trained.

Luckily, his dog won the race.

“I had every penny I had,” says McNair. “And he duly obliged. So instead of spending a week in Blackpool as our honeymoon, we spent two weeks in Blackpool!”

McNair insists that his racing greyhounds are housed in a comfortable environment and treated with love and care, and that certainly seems to be the case in the film.

And it explains how he and his fellow devotees live and breathe the sport, spending every waking hour training and tending to their responsibilities even though there is little profit to be made.

“It’s like a drug,” he says. “We are addicted, we want it. We experience both the good and the bad.”

Despite opposition from animal welfare groups, McNair is confident the sport he loves will continue. “No matter what rules anyone puts in front of us, we will find a way.”

Another advocate of greyhound racing is Shaun Reynolds, who works to promote one of the UK’s leading racing companies. He is more concerned about the future of the sport than Cruttwell, describing it as “on life support”.

The 29-year-old, from Lambourn, Berkshire, says: “Greyhound racing has historically been very misguided in how it’s been marketed. “There’s probably a tension in the sport about promoting itself because it gets so much bad press.

“Sport must be transparent and directly combat those who oppose it.”

Reynolds, whose father and grandfather bred greyhounds, believes racing has never been in a better place when it comes to animal welfare. But he doesn’t shy away from the sport’s unpleasant elements.

It highlights how many tracks survive because races are broadcast live to betting shops and online gamblers. “If gambling was illegal, greyhound racing would cease overnight,” he admits.

As the owner of two greyhounds himself, he is concerned about the number of deaths in the sport. According to GBGB’s own figures, 123 greyhounds injured while racing on licensed tracks were euthanized last year, while a further 263 greyhounds either died or were euthanized outside of competition.

This may come as a shock, but it’s a big improvement from 2018, when GBGB agreed to publish death figures for the first time. They claim that death rates are much higher in equestrian sports.

Reynolds isn’t happy about any dogs dying, but remains realistic about the dangers of running at high speeds on a racetrack. “Sports will never operate with a 0% mortality rate,” he adds. “This is not possible.”

Given these figures, it’s no surprise that many vocal opponents, including the RSPCA, Dogs Trust, Blue Cross and Animal Rising, are calling for an end to greyhound racing across the UK.

“Greyhound racing is brutal,” the RSPCA says on its website. “It’s a dangerous industry, causing thousands of injuries every year. Dogs suffer broken legs, head injuries and even fatal injuries on UK racetracks. Wales is moving to ban greyhound racing. It’s time the rest of the UK follows suit and protects these dogs from further suffering.”

One of the largest greyhound conservation groups is the Campaign Against Greyhound Exploitation and Killing (CAGED). They complain that greyhounds are housed in dirty kennels with inadequate ventilation, heating and bedding. They allege that racing dogs were given illegal performance-enhancing drugs, and those that could not race were euthanized or exported to countries with poor animal welfare laws. They claim GBGB underestimated the true death and injury figures.

Rita James is campaigning for CAGED. “We would prefer that the public not support greyhound racing with their money and that it would naturally die out,” he says.

His group fears that if racing were banned overnight, there would be mass culls as large numbers of dogs would need to be rehomed. But James, 55, from north-west England, rejects the idea that greyhound racing is a vital part of our country’s culture.

“We don’t think it’s British culture,” he says. “We believe it’s a pretty old sport. We think it’s just about the gambling establishment making a profit. We’ve done surveys and most people say, ‘No, it’s barbaric, it’s cruel.'”

Whatever the truth, the joy that sports brings to fans is undeniable.

Some even claim that dogs themselves love the thrill of competition, even if what they’re chasing is a stuffed mechanical lure.

One only has to visit the British Greyhound Derby, the highest-attended race on the British calendar, to understand. This annual celebration, which has all the excitement of a major horse racing meeting, dates back to 1927.

For most of its history, it was first held at the White City Stadium and later at the Wimbledon Stadium, both of which eventually closed.

The derby is currently held at the Towcester Stadium in Northamptonshire, with £175,000 being offered to the winning owner; This is by far the largest purse in this country.

GBGB chief executive Mark Bird insists his sport remains an important part of our national culture.

“Greyhound racing is a historic pastime of Britain and a cornerstone of our sporting world,” he says. “As we approach the sport’s centenary in 2026, it continues to be a home for animal and sport lovers, providing employment, community, opportunity and entertainment across the country. Greyhound racing, like horse racing, has a rightful place in British sport. We look forward to seeing how the sport continues to evolve in the years to come.”

This may be optimistic. The truth is that, apart from the Derby and a few other major events, very few greyhound races attract large numbers of live audiences.

Weekday races at 19 stadiums scattered across the UK are struggling to get bums into the seats; most gamblers prefer to watch the action online or in betting shops.

Cruttwell, who has released his new documentary, laments the decline of this sport specific to the British working class. When asked whether he would prefer to improve or flounder, he said he wanted to remain neutral. However, after being pressed on the issue, he eventually gave in.

“If welfare were perfect, I’d probably say I want that to continue. What usually happens with a lot of sports is that if you ban them, they kind of go underground.”

“People find a way to make these things happen. And of course then there would be no welfare issues. It would be potentially terrible.”

Many people involved in the sport—owners, trainers, race participants, and especially animal welfare activists—all share at least one concern: the love of competing canine athletes.