Where it all began ... well ... once upon a time ... no, let's not start there; after all, trainer Harry's no Sleeping Beauty and breeder Paul, though arguably visually similar in ways to Snow White's Dopey or Shrek's Donkey (I'm thinking only of his ears and hairy back when I say that!), can in no way be compared to something like that ... This is a serious web site and this is a serious History page!

The first Caloona greyhounds were born in 1995 - December the 8th to be exact. Four little, mainly white bundles of puppy surrounded by horrible gooey stuff and blood! What to do now? It's the first time we'd had pups on site at 'Ivydene' and although we would now gain experience very quickly, our only guide into the breeding/rearing game had come via any questions we could ask of more experienced people and a few of those "How To Breed And Rear Winners" videos.

For year's trainer had rapped on like uncle Albert and told Paul and I of his yesteryear successes with the dogs. Oh how easy it was; Pakaha Boy, apparently a machine, had blown away the competition in his Brighton Puppy Derby win. Then someone offered him a thousand pound for the dog (and as he told us year after year at Christmas and birthdays) - "I coulda bought another house for that much in them days!" He went on, "Hardiesse - a good solid bitch - lovely she was. And Granddad Reeves had some crackers too before me - Canahar Pilot won the 'Lubricants Challenge Cup' at Hove in '52. And don't forget uncle Spud - he had the best hurdlers in the game: Westlands Steve, Westlands Bridge and Lord Westlands etc."

Oh yes how easy it was ... to own a greyhound ... but to breed, rear & train a litter - that's a different tale. Bring on the books, questions and videos.

To start with you need the right place, the right set-up. The Attwaters' did, and still have, in 'Ivydene'. Set on the edge of hundreds of New Forest acres. It sits neatly in seven acres with converted stables as a ready-made kennel area. The land too had to be paddocked off in preparation for the first Caloona offspring. It was done.

The next thing was getting hold of the right foundation brood. Where do you go to get a bitch who's bloodlines will be carried through generations of her progeny with ever increasing speed and success? We knew there was only one place in England to go; one English (well Greek Cypriot I think), but adopted Englishman, breeder who could help - Nick Savva.

Paul did the, excuse the pun, donkey work. He knew Savva's double brood bitch of the year Westmead Move had just thrown a repeat litter to Daleys Gold - all bitches. The first litter were legendary:

Right Move (Mailcom and Wimbledon Puppy Derby winner. Juvenile winner. Track Record 400m Romford).
Balligari (Laurels winner. Scottish Derby, Mailcom Puppy Derby, Wimbledon Puppy Derby and Juvenile finalist).
Westmead Suprise (Gold Collar and Fosters Gold Cup winner. Carling Black Label Test R/Up. Oaks and Produce Stakes finalist).
Westmead Spirit (Produce Stakes winner. Gold Collar R/Up).
Westmead Bubble (Breeders Forum finalist).
Westmead Bobby (Romford Puppy Cup finalist. William Hill Lucky 15 finalist).
Westmead Charlie (Open Race winner).

Apart from these Move had also thrown top quality stock in previous litters like: Next Move, Westmead Harry, Westmead Darkie, Airmotive, Westmead Paddy, Westmead Mount and Westmead Chick. Move was a top quality racer (1986 Grand Prix winner, Gold Collar and Oaks finalist), from a top quality litter that included Olivers Wish (Prolific Open Race winner) and Westmead Call (1986 Bedfordshire Derby winner), from Brood Bitch of the Year Westmead Tania who herself was from Brood Bitch of the Year Westmead Satin. There was no doubt. If we could get one of Move's bitches from the repeat to Daleys Gold we'd be truly on our way.

Paul called Nick and by hook or by crook (probably both) Mr Savva agreed to let us have one of the bitches. Obviously she would be reared with the rest of her litter at Westmead Kennels in Bedfordshire. Let the dream begin ...

After the litter was earmarked we shot up to choose the foundation brood for Ivydene. The journey up was full of excitement and anticipation; what one would we pick? What would Savva really be like? Would he really talk like Manuel from Fawlty Towers or was it just us? Anyway, laughing on the way soon turned to pure nervous excitement as we rolled onto Westmead land!

We got out the car and took a quick look round. Then, from one of the doors of his numerous outbuildings, appeared Nick 'Has anyone seen 'Acksaw?' Savva! His god-like reputation in the greyhound world preceded him as he walked to greet us. There was a kinda aura, a cloud that surrounded him that suggested he'd definitely forgotten more about this game than we'd ever know. It was a surreal moment for a greyhound fan - meeting the legend.

For Nick it was just another Sunday, but for the Attwater boys from Hordle in the New Forest it was a whole lot more. Paul chose our new brood by earmark number. Lucky number 3 it was. A little black bitch with white feet, white tipped tail and a tiny white spot on the back of her neck! Was the spot as sign? A kinda signal sent from the greyhound gods? Poor pup. If only she knew the weight of expectation on her tiny frame she'd have probably rolled over and played dead hoping not to be picked by the dreaded Hordle Hitmen. Anyway what was done was done. Our mighty foundation brood, the brood of all Caloona's, was from here on to be known as 'JESSIE'.

As the months passed our regular visits to Westmead Kennels became more exciting. Not only would we see Jessie grow, but we'd also see how Nick ran and organised his set-up. We'd see pups schooling on his own track; brilliant that was. And we'd see other pups growing and moving into larger paddocks as Nick moved them through his tried and tested system that has produced so many great hounds over the years. Soon the time came to give Jessie her racing name: Westmead Lynx. That sounded good, sounded fast. That would surely send a shudder down the spines of all racing against her. And after all, dad had said black one's were always the fastest!!! So, a black pup, lucky number 3 and a spot of a sign from the gods ... We were ready to take on the world!

We moved her to Hove with Bill Masters. If memory serves me right she graded in around A7 (can't remember exactly). Hove is our spiritual home, as they say, 'Hove is where the heart is!' Hove's the place where the majority of the Attwater family greyhound memories originate. To be honest Jessie's path was already mapped out for her long before she'd ever stepped on any track; rear her with Nick at Westmead Kennels then move her to Hove with Bill Masters (ably assisted by another legend Gentleman George Curtis), then, if fast enough, move her back home and have a go with her ourselves with Hitman Harry Attwater at the helm. At the end of the day ... it's dark! No. At the end of the day anything Jessie achieved on the track was a bonus; she'd been bought as a brood bitch, our foundation brood. After all, Floyd Amphlett (Editor of The Greyhound Star) said of her dam"... Move is the best brood bitch in Britain or Ireland".

When we moved her to Hove the main thing I remember is Bill Masters and his kennelhand Wayne Wrighting (now a trainer at Hove in his own rite) not believing we'd managed to get hold of one Westmead Move's pups! They wouldn't believe us 'til they'd checked her earmark and details for themselves. Jessie did her grading trials and eventually ran top grade Hove. As time went by we realised there was a little self-induced pressure on us (her really), because Jessie was one of only a couple of her litter that had remained in the UK. Most of her litter had gone to the US of good 'ol A. Westmead Move had thrown Open winners in all her litters so now our spotlight turned to Jessie winning an Open - Mother's record depended on it - almost demanded it! Jessie ran in only a few Opens with Bill Masters - all at Hove. I remember in her second Open she ran from trap 5. She broke well enough and led from the second turn and held on well to win. No spectacular time. No spectacular trophy, but that didn't matter as we'd flown Nick Savva's and Westmead Move's flags on high keeping the record intact. As far as we were concerned that was the serious business done. All that was left for Westmead Lynx now was to compete under the stewardship of her new owner/trainer team for a bit of experience for us and to look forward to a life of motherhood and huge paddocks at Ivydene.

Jessie didn't have that many runs for dad really. She had a little time on the sidelines with lameness (no more than any other racer), but I guess we could've been a touch over-cautious 'cos she was the first. She didn't win a race for us, but the overriding memory of that period was the made up game of 'Lynx' lorry spotting on route to the races with the dog in the back! There's a transport company or delivery company of some sort with loads of black lorries up and down the motorways called Lynx. If we spotted one we'd shout and scream and see it as a lucky omen. It never bloody worked though! We probably scared the crap out of the dog by doing it anyway!

Anyway, then we moved onto the next stage of greyhound world domination when Jessie came in season. Paul and I had studied the bloodlines for hours, for days, for weeks ... then decided to copy Nick Savva! If it was good enough for him, it was good enough for us. We wanted to go down the line of I'm Slippy. Westmead Move produced the awesome Westmead Chick in 1992 to him and his son Murlens Slippy (one of the top studs around at the time) was available in Ireland. The trip and covering that followed will never be forgotten for as long as I live ...

Not really knowing what to do or how to go about it, it was decided that dad and I would escort Jessie to Ireland, stay with her and bring her home after. We'd manage to book Murlens Slippy and his keeper, Richie O'Regan from the Fermoy area, was expecting us. Not knowing any better we decided to fly! Jessie went in the cargo hold!!! We'd got her traveling box and made it as comfortable as possible ... hot water bottle, blankets, pictures of her cherry-picker Murlens Slippy, y'know the type of thing. We dropped her at the cargo hold and made our way to the Emerald Isle via Ryanair. On arrival we picked up a hire car and couldn't wait to get the dog. No need to worry though 'cos she'd traveled like a seasoned pro. Once loaded the Hordle raiders set off in search of Rich's place. Somehow we found it ... lovely place, lovely man with a lovely family ... lovely really. Richie checked the bitch over and said she'd be ready to cover in a few days, no problems. Somewhat relieved that the task of transporting and finding was done, dad and I were grateful to Richie for booking us into a local B&B.

Can't remember the name of the place, but it was very homely, if a bit creepy. We'd booked a twin room and as we worked our way up the creaky stairs surrounded by old fashioned floral wallpaper
the old man (looked a bit like Lurch) followed us to our room to make sure it was ok for us. We agreed it was fine just to get him out the room as quick as poss. As soon as he'd gone dad and I looked at each other and started laughing! He said, "I think we've ended up at Fred and Rosemary West's place!"

We went out and had some dinner then came back to the Hammer House of Horror. It was rather late by now, dark, you get the scene. We sat playing cards for a while in the lounge. Lurch and Esmerelda had long since said goodnight. Think we were just too scared to go upstairs really! We sat for a while longer playing 9-card brag then the old clock above us struck the hour mark. Christ it made us jump! Bloody cuckoo! In one mesmeric Kill Bill meets Matrix movement, dad flicked his wrist and threw the Jack of Diamonds from the far end of the table, up and towards the annoying sound. Well, Jack caught the bloody bird square on the beak like Tyson catching Bruno with a right hook! Cuckoo disappeared home and failed to appear for the next chime. He'd failed to make the count! To say we were a bit worried was an understatement. What if Lurch was watching through an eye-hole in one of the paintings on the wall?! What if old Esmerelda was sharpening her blades in the kitchen or stewing up a poisonous bath for the Attwater boys?! One thing's for sure ... we'd have to keep quiet about it if we wanted to get out in one piece!!!

To say we slept that night would be wrong. What happened was two grown men pushed the twin beds together, put the chair under the door handle and frequently made sure each other was awake while trying to make ourselves look as small as possible wrapped up completely in the covers!

In the morning we got up early relieved we were both still alive. Esmerelda served breakfast on the table underneath the cuckoo's murder scene. Dad and I both looked at the clock ... it was about 20 minutes to the hour. We tried to scoff down breakfast like we'd never eaten before, but it was no good. Breakfast was gorgeous. Not only was it gorgeous, but there was plenty of it. Now if the Attwater family has a failing, it's food. We do tend to like our meals, especially a good breakfast. Soon we'd forgotten about Bruno the cuckoo and were both gorging ourselves on loafs of soda bread, a huge fry-up and reams of toast!

On the hour you could hear the clock begin to wind up for it's hourly chime. Dad and I both looked up just as Lurch walked in to collect the breakfast things. Then, like a scene from Only Fools And Horses, Bruno limped from his clock! His perch slid out with him hanging upside down from it and with his last breath he whispered "CUCKooooooooo" and was never seen again. Dad looked at me, I looked at him, Lurch looked at Bruno, then at both of us! "Dunno what's wrong with that", he said as he interrogated us ever closer with his stare. Needless to say the Attwater boys came clean ... yeah right. We never said a word. Just got out of there faster than Jessie had ever left the traps!

On the morning of the covering dad and I were both present to witness Jessie's deflowering. Old Murlens Slippy came out into the same paddock as Jessie and had a sniff around. He had a smell of her wee and, not bothered by his audience, sneaked behind our girl. Just as he began to do the business Richie got hold of an old milk crate. Just as I thought he was gonna try and milk something he sat on it and kept the old dog connected to Jessie by wrapping his arms around the two of them. After no more than a minute old Murlens was done! An apt choice of stud by the Attwater's then although we never usually last that long! That was that. All that way. All that time. Having risked life and limb staying with Fred and Rosemary, flying to Ireland, hiring a car, sorting all the arrangements ... for a minute. 63 days later it was all worthwhile ...

This takes me back to the beginning of the page. Four mostly white pups. Jessie had 1 dog and 3 bitches. She was a great mum. She ate anything and everything. Anything left over from the family meals would go in her bowl and she'd pass all the goodness onto the pups. Over the following 12 months the saplings did great. They kept growing and they really looked the part. What we didn't realise at the time was just how lucky we were to get a litter like that at our very first attempt.

I came up with the racing name 'Caloona'. I actually passed a road called Calluna Drive and told the boys of it. Paul changed the spelling and we ended up with what all of our dogs are prefixed with now. The four pups were named Caloona Hustle, Caloona Lynx, Caloona Move and Pay The Piper. Casper, the dog, was named before we came up with the prefix, hence Pay The Piper.

I remember they initially schooled at Cosmic Kennels in Heathfield, East Sussex. They've a beautiful set-up there and they had a wily old Irish hare driver there by the name of Tom. I can't stress how important it is to have an experienced hare driver when you're schooling pups - they can literally make or break the dogs. On the very first visit, after handslips, Tom said they all looked naturals with an excellent stride. All four took to schooling easily. What we didn't know is how good they'd turn out to be. All four of them won Opens for us. All had serious pace. This is their run-down:

There's no doubt we, and Jessie were on our way! What a record - four pups, four Open Race winners! For her second batch Droopys Sandy, the '94 Scottish Derby winner was selected as sire. Now hindsight's a wonderful thing isn't it. We thought, at that time, that Jessie could throw an Open winner to a bloody Bulldog. Unfortunately we were wrong. Droopys Sandy, although no Bulldog, has since proved to be a relative disaster at stud. The pups were very disappointing. All the litter were graded runners. We had a couple of Open Races from them, but they weren't really Open class.

April '98 saw Jessie produce another five pups, this time to Toms The Best. This bunch would turn into the best litter she ever produced. At the head of racing affairs was Sundar Storm - a phenomenal bitch. She won the Golden Jacket at Crayford, The International at Mildenhall (beating Mumble Swerve), clocked an amazing 35.05 for the 575m at Romford and made the finals of both The Coronation Cup at Romford and The Produce Stakes at Swindon.

Hot on her heels was brother Hes Nobodys Fool. He ran unbeaten through the £10,000 British Breeders Produce Stakes at Hall Green beating Early Flight (Nick Savva's terrific brood from the same Hacksaw damline),Westmead Baron (out of Westmead Chick) and Toms The One (out of Celtic Lady - another of Savva's and Hacksaw's broods) in the final.

Also in the litter were Best Of Lynx, Molly Doodle and our own Caloona Colours. Best Of Lynx was injured early as a sapling and didn't race that much before retirement. Molly Doodle and Caloona Colours were both very decent distance bitches. Molly ran marathons - the longer the better. She had Open wins at Walthamstow, Reading, Poole and Milton Keynes and was only 4 lengths off the 1045m clock at Walthamstow. Caloona Colours was more of a 6 bend performer. Her racing highlight was beating El Poker in the Category 3 BS Summer Stayers Championship at Poole over 640m.

Back on track we decided to go back to the Im Slippy line we'd used first via Murlens Slippy. In using English Derby winner Shanless Slippy we were trying to inject a bit of that elusive early pace we all hanker for so much - It's like the Holy Grail of European dog racing - get out in front, miss any trouble and collect the prize!

The fastest of this litter was Caloona Baloo. When sold he was renamed Pipers Mint and ran top grade at Belle Vue before injury cut short his career. The rest of the litter, although they had a few Opens between them, were purely graders. Again, in hindsight, Shanless Slippy hasn't set the world alight at stud.

The next mating we tried, to Australian Pete's Boss, missed - Jessie failed to take. When she came in season next time, in October 2000, she was around 7 years old. We decided to give her one last shot and took her to Top Honcho. The match produced a litter of three and quite possibly the fastest Caloona bred so far...

Caloona Lomu looked a machine. He also had the one thing we's been looking for - early pace. As a very raw pup he graded in A3 at Poole and duly scooted up in 27.15 for the 450m. The clock was 26.70! He then won his A2 and ran 3rd in his A1. By now we knew his future wasn't at Poole - we'd hit the Open scene ... and hard! September and October brought four Open races at Reading and Poole without success. An injury kept him off for a few weeks before he trialled over 250m at Poole. He did the clock with 14.94! A disappointing 2nd at Walthamstow was followed by a 28.39 win at Reading before another trip to Walthamstow and another bloody injury. After leading off the second bend he went lame and still finished 3rd beaten only 3 lengths to Hallam Heskey.

After a three month lay off he trialled back in at Poole over the 250m. Again he did the clock - 14.95 this time. After an A1 win he went back to Reading to win in 28.03! We thought we'd got him right. Could we be Derby bound!? Well, after a series of 'in and out' runs he was entered for the Derby. In his first 460m trial he did 27.90. We were delighted. A week later though, in another solo, he clocked 30 spots slower - We were expecting 30 spots faster!!! He took part in a few one-offs at Wimbledon in the run up to the Derby, but he never took his place. We never really got to the bottom of the dog. On his day he was truly awesome and we still argue to this day about his injuries and his race preparation etc. He certainly is the quickest one we've ever bred, but he's also the one that got away. He could've been great ... He should be at stud. But then again, how many other owner/breeders say that about their own dogs!

He had two litter sisters. One was as honest as the day is long and one ... er ... wasn't - she just liked to play! One was as fast, if not faster than Lomu and one a decent grader. Guess which one was as fast as Lomu ... you've got it, the player. Meet Caloona Magic. A lovely bitch in a solo trial. Put her in company and she'd play all day long. In a 640m solo at Poole (at about 18 months old) she clocked 39.60. Most Opens aren't won in that time! Needless to say she had a couple of runs, but that's all. Sister Caloona Storm though ran with credit throughout her career. 73 races produced 17 wins at Poole and Hove where she made A4 at both tracks.

Well that kinda wraps up the start of the Caloona chronicles. You've had the run down of Jessie's offspring and you can catch up on the rest of the family on the FAMILY TREE PAGE. Hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I've enjoyed reminiscing ...

Neil Attwater

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