Standing next to a three-legged staffy, a mutt who had been rescued from Thailand and a handful of panting hopefuls, I didnβt think Fil stood a chance without a particularly astounding sob story. But, lo and behold, my βhairy greyhoundβ was crowned the winner.
Fil enjoying the harbour.
A month later, while meandering toward the markets, someone hollered in our direction. βFil! Calendar boy!β It turned out that Fil had been photographed without our knowledge, and his picture was used in the 2025 Potts Point calendar. Come December, Fil will find himself pinned to every fridge and corkboard in the area.
Before moving, I was worried Iβd struggle to assimilate. With many a tattoo and sporting a vibrant, red wolf-cut, I feared Iβd look as if I had been plucked from a Brunswick barber-shop and transported squarely onto Bondi Beach, squinting my eyes while nearby locals unfurled their yoga mats and drank matcha. But with Fil by my side, who arguably looks like a wizard-turned-greyhound with a mane, I can be anybody. He has taught me that, in a world full of designer dogs, a scruffy freak is not a bad thing to be.
So far, the newfound celebrityhood doesnβt seem to have gone to his head. Despite his magnificent presence, he trots around the park. He does as dogs do and plays with all sorts: Boston terriers, golden retrievers, working dogs, dachshunds. Every turned head that cares to watch him is paired with a big, toothy smile.
He licks his lips and waits to be served a dollop of cream and a sprinkling of cinnamon. He stands eagerly on the shore of the harbour and watches the boats hover and sway.
Fil doesnβt know his size β or even that he is famous. Fil doesnβt care.
Madison Griffiths is a freelance writer based in Sydney and the author of Tissue.
The Opinion newsletter is a weekly wrap of views that will challenge, champion and inform your own. Sign up here.
