Beach Comber

With fire in your hind paws and a blaze in your heart, you were acclaimed “King of the Greyhounds.” It has been said that you “stole” more races than you won outright, meaning you knew what racing was all about. You gave little ground when maneuvering to the front!

You even had a “victory roll.” When in the cool-out yard after winning a race, you would roll on the ground. But you never did this after losing. You knew when you had won!

You were no ordinary greyhound. Twice you escaped death. As a puppy, you survived a severe winter in Kansas, when four of your littermates died. On the evening of April 10th, 1947, you were led to safety from burning kennels. Your sister, Bang Up, died in the blaze. As if in tribute, you went on to win your first race that same night.

Your parents — More Taxes—Soapy Hands —were both good, respectable dogs. Nobody thought much of you. You weren’t built like a good greyhound; your legs were too short. Because of this, you were nicknamed “Shorty.” But you proved how tall you could stand in the winner’s circle by winning the 1947-48 and 1948-49 Biscayne Inaugural, the West Flagler Kennel Club Inaugural of 1948, and the All-Florida Championship at Biscayne …  to name just a few.

On Christmas night of 1948, you made your owner a present of a new world’s record by winning your 61st race. This topped Flashy Sir’s 60-win mark. The years 1948 and 1949 were definitely Beach Comber years. As the greatest star of the Paul Sutherland Kennels, you won the national race-winning championship both years and were on your way to an unprecedented career total of 99 triumphs!