Clancy was our 'baby girl' - a beautiful wheaten bitch with the largest, softest,
darkest eyes you could imagine. She particularly adored McGinty, who would regularly
summon her like the lord of the manor calling for a serving wench
whenever he felt in the mood for a game. She would inevitably undergo a sound beating
every time, and then come back for more. |
Clancy 24.5.96 ~ 16.11.99 |
In temperament, she was loving and affectionate to those she knew, but uneasy with strangers, and capable of being a real handful if she took a dislike to another dog, which she was particulary inclined to do with border collies. The worst moment of her life came when she collided with her Uncle Nick at full speed on the beach, the impact breaking his leg so badly that it had to be pinned. To Nick's lasting credit he never bore her (or us!) any ill will, and Clancy remained his second favourite wolfhound (after Elffin, of course). To this day he refers to the scars on his knee as 'Clancy's kisses'. |
Clancy suffered the classic wolfhound trials of recurrent elbow bursas and a persistent
tail injury (caused by excessive, delighted wagging) which eventually meant
having six inches of tail removed. She developed epilepsy at the age of two, and this was indirectly responsible for her untimely death at
three-and-a-half. Her memory will live with us always - our golden girl. She was the first wolfhound we lost, and we felt that having come through our grief determined to continue with the breed we could consider ourselves fully fledged wolfhound owners. |
