Shaggy Dog Story

My Celtic Grandfather bred Irish Wolf Hounds. He was a stern man, as inflexible as stone, a hard Ulsterman wed to a soft Erin woman. “Never let yourself be alone with the hounds,” he warned. Yet I went; I stole into the garden on an evening when the sun was falling asleep. The giant hounds gathered round me Growling, then they hunkered down and discussed among themselves what to do with me. The largest of the dogs told me about the blood wars and all the ‘troubles’ of this sad land. I did not understand much of it but felt the fierceness of his heart. They found me curled with the great shaggy beasts and the only one they would let retrieve me was my disgraced mother. Later that day we took the ferry to Liverpool, then the train to London where the dogs did not talk, but where humans often whispered: “unwanted.” ~~~~