The Black Bitch by Geoff CroninIn Waterford when I was a boy, Ballybricken, which was that part of the city which was home to the pig buyers and the monthly fairs, was also renowned as the home of the most outrageous tall stories and the more their fame grew the taller the stories were. My favourite concerned ‘The Black Bitch’ and here it is – verbatim – as I heard it.“One Saint Stephen’s day meself and me father went out the country to hunt hares. We had three dogs, a blue terrier, a fox terrier and me father’s pride and joy, a black greyhound bitch. At this time the bitch was past her best and getting on in years but she was as game as ever and could turn a hare, no bother. Of course in those days you could hunt wherever you liked and there was no let or hindrance apart from the odd estates where a gamekeeper was employed, so we had the freedom of the countryside, more or less.