Yes, it’s the Greyhound Jockey
Let’s take a trip back in American Greyhound history …almost 70 years to 1932.
Imagine the setting – a perfectly normal Greyhound racetrack somewhere in the eastern United States. Bets have been placed with the book makers and the gambling masses settle in the stands and terraces, waiting expectantly. The eight racing dogs are eager for the chance. They are fired‑up, panting and yelping through the constrictions of their muzzles …ready for the "off." A buzzer sounds. The electric lure starts its run, the rail humming and vibrating, adding to the tension. The lure sweeps past the straining Greyhounds and the crowed erupts in a frenzy of excitement as ‑the handlers release the dogs.
Released by handlers? What about the starting boxes?
None here for tonight’s feature race. There wouldn’t be room for the jockeys.
Puzzled? Well, don’t be. The monkey jockeys are in town, so you can throw both convention and the rulebook out the window.
Loretta and Charlie David conceived the bizarre idea of having monkeys ride Greyhounds
Years of planning
This was a wild, money‑spinning craze in the 1930s. Facing Greyhounds with tiny little primates on their backs…all vying to pass the finish line first, and all taking their job very, very seriously.
Loretta and Charlie David conceived this bizarre idea in 1930 and it took them two years to bring their plan to fruition.
They obtained 12 baby capuchin monkeys from Panama and placed one with each of their 12 Greyhound puppies. Male capuchins when fully mature can weigh up to 15 pounds (6.8kg), so the Davids went for the smaller, lighter females. These central American primates are the most intelligent and trainable of the New World monkeys. They are an excellent choice when needed for a film or television role and have come to known as "organ grinder monkeys." We might not have seen (but have all heard about) these cheeky little capuchins helping their musical masters to collect coins in a cup from onlookers.
At their base in Palm Beach, Florida, the Davids patiently waited as this slightly unnatural two‑year "bonding" process between capuchin and Greyhound took its course. It wasn’t an easy task to undertake, and there were many problems, but as both species matured to adulthood so a close harmony began to exist between the monkeys and their canine partners.
Training commences
With each capuchin now "attached" to its own particular dog, many hours of training were to follow. Twelve tiny made‑to‑measure, hand‑stitched saddles were imported from Italy. These were crafted in the finest soft leather, perfect down to the last detail and included a girth and miniature stirrup irons.
The monkey’s racing silks were made in the U.S. and these too were diminutive versions of the real thing. Each primate had its own jacket colors, cap, jodhpurs and boots. Jockey whips were taboo, but the clever little riders soon learned to improvise by using their own tails as long as 22 inches (55cm) this was quite an advantage. In a tight finish they wouldn’t hesitate to whack their Greyhound’s rump in order to squeeze every last ounce of speed from their canine mounts.
Loretta David, an attractive lady in her early 30s, said at the time, "We found the monkeys were almost human. They were highly intelligent and the competitive spirit during a race was truly amazing. Each desperately wanted their Greyhounds to win in order to collect the prize."
And what was the prize for the winning jockey? Nothing more than a humble cup of peanuts. Hence there’s a definite truth in the old adage, "If you pay peanuts, you’ll get monkeys!"
Strap’em down
One of the problems faced by Loretta and Charlie was the monkeys’ over‑exuberance to win, no matter what the cost. Competition on the track was extremely fierce and it was not uncommon (during training sessions) for the little primates to lean over in their saddles and cause interference to rival jockeys and their dogs. This took the form of hanging onto (and sometimes ripping) another monkey’s silks, or even jumping from one Greyhound competitor to another in order to hold it back.
Charlie David, a 40‑year‑old former company executive solved this problem by strapping each capuchin down with a specially designed saddle harness. This allowed a certain freedom of movement (they could still use their tails as whips) but it restricted any blatant bad behavior. Unfortunately it had its downside should any Greyhound mount take a tumble during a race. The monkey, unable to escape from the saddle, would be forced to go with the dog and therefore injuries were unavoidable.
"Despite the odd accident they all loved to ride," Loretta David was quoted as saying. "It seemed to come naturally to the capuchins. When Charlie and I began to unpack their racing silks they knew exactly what was about to happen and they’d chatter and screech with anticipation. All wanted to win the cup of peanuts and they were very impatient to get the race underway."
Rivalry
There is no doubting the great rivalry between these teeny tiny chattering jockeys. Presumably they cursed at each other in Spanish ‑ as this was the native Panamanian language! The rivalry certainly manifested itself when one monkey (through illness or injury) was substituted for another. Neither monkey nor Greyhound liked to switch partners, and this mutual dislike was evident during racing. Both primate and dog showed their displeasure at the mismatch by barely trying to win. When racing had finished the substitute monkey would run to the kennels and immediately go to the Greyhound to which it had "bonded" and been trained to ride. The injured capuchin that had been left out of the evening’s proceedings would also show its displeasure to the Davids. Charlie and Loretta found they had petulant, sullen and irritable little primate on their hands that displayed a moody anger at missing the race.
The monkeys were always given the best of care and rarely got sick as each, after training, represented a $2,000 investment (1935 figure) to the Davids. These little primates traveled across the United States in boxes in the rear of Loretta and Charlie’s car, whilst the Greyhounds were towed in a trailer.
A huge hit
Every night was race night for the Davids. A different town, a different track ‑ such was the monkey jockeys crowd‑pleasing demand in the 1930s. People would come from far and wide to see the multi‑colored little riders with their crinkled "old mans" faces, battling it out with a vengeance. On the track no quarter was given or expected and the crowd roared its approval as the Greyhounds completed the 5/16 of a mile course.
During the period they were racing neither Loretta or Charlie had a bet on the outcome.
"Every race is unpredictable," Charlie said at the time. "With the monkey jockeys anything can happen and the result is always wide-open."
The final curtain
And so the Davids continued to tour the U.S. for several years before the novelty value wore thin with the public. As the crowds waned so the monkey jockeys were disbanded and Charlie and Loretta melted into obscurity.
The Davids’ brainchild of training Greyhounds with jockeys (to emulate racehorses with riders) had lost its appeal. Now they have gone ‑and a good thing too ‑ I’m sure all the animal welfare groups will be saying!
Australia tried to pick up where the Davids had left off and extended the idea by using hurdles and water jumps. Mexico also tried a revival in the 1950s ‑but both were short lived.
I suppose an element of cruelty was involved. Presumably the capuchins didn’t ask to be jockeys in the first place? Nevertheless, Charlie and Loretta are part of Greyhound history and my only regret is that I wasn’t alive in the 1930s or I would have been first in line at the ticket gate.
A crazy phenomenon? Completely unnatural? Bordering on the grotesque? An exploitation of innocent creatures?
Yes, using monkey jockeys was no doubt part, if not all of the above and the Davids’ theatrical aspirations‑would not be tolerated in the year 2000. But the sight of these wizened little creatures sitting proudly astride their Greyhound mounts must have been quite a breathtaking spectacle ‑ and one which we will never see the like again.
