• SexMale
  • Breed/TypeIrish wolfhound
  • Date of Birth30 Nov 1992 (est)
  • Date Arrived31 May 1995
  • RescueWood Green Animal Shelter
  • Date Departed12 Apr 2002
  • ReasonDied

For how the Big Beasts arrived, see Beamish's page

Murphy had a very simple view on life: he loved everything and everyone, and assumed that everything and everyone loved him. However, he was almost certainly the runt of the litter and not in best of health.

 When he arrived his ears were so full of wax that they had become infected, and he needed an operation on both of them to remove the tube that goes from the ear to the ear drum (which is actually lower down a dogs head that you might think), and literally had holes (albeit small ones) in the side of his head to act as new ears; his proper ears being just cosmetic (he could still detect a crisp packet rattling at some distance, believe me!). But his big problem was a dodgy lower back which caused his rear legs to go painfully stiff and need manipulation to get working again after lying down, especially if he had over exercised, which was a bit of a problem because unlike his brother he loved running.

Yet through everything Murphy loved life and was always up for anything. He loved being brushed, trimmed, anything that meant he was being made a fuss of. He made close friends with Phelan as their attitude to things was very similar, such as if another dog was spotted across the park or field it would be those two who went to greet it; Beamish might amble along a bit later, or even join in, if he could be bothered. Murphy was only a small Big Beast, about a centimetre shorter than Beamish to the shoulder, and a slip of a thing at 63.5kg (10 stones or 140 lbs). He was also a lap dog.

Surprisingly Murphy outlived Beamish and in some ways seemed to almost blossom once out of the shadow of his brother. However, he only survived another four months, leaving in April 2002, also from acute pneumonia. This left Phelan on his own; a situation I don't think he was unhappy with as he was now about 10 ½.

To live with Wolfhounds is a true privilege. Despite their size they are such gentle and graceful creatures, and don't have an ounce of malice in their bodies. One day I will have another one (or two).