It's Triggs I feel sorry for. Roy Keane's pet Labrador looks reasonably fit and free of hip injuries. But with the master now deprived of football as an outlet for his energies, the coming season promises to be the dog's most challenging to date, writes Frank McNally
Roy and his female Labrador have been inseparable in times of crisis. Whenever TV crews descended on the Keane mansion, they could rely on the spectacle of the footballer emerging for his daily walk, with the dog desperately trying to keep up. Roy would be bristling with energy and aggression. Triggs would be bristling with nothing, except bristles. Labradors use up all their energy being good-natured. If there was any barking to be done at the media, Roy always had to do it himself.
Whatever about her athleticism, the dog's loyalty was clearly prized. Keane once said he trusted Triggs more than he trusted his Man Utd team-mates, which admittedly was faint praise. But now that he can no longer lambaste fellow players and even managers for their low standards, how long will it be until his relationship with Triggs comes under strain? How long before Roy turns that ferocious gaze on his former best friend and bitterly rebukes her for accepting the mediocrity of being a golden Labrador? For the moment, at least, the partnership continues to undermine the theory that dogs and their owners come to resemble each other eventually. It's hard to decide which canine breed would best mirror Keane's looks and personality. But apart perhaps from the French poodle, the Labrador is the last you would pick out of a line-up.
The greyhound, by contrast, has many of Roy's qualities. Lean and hungry, it spends its professional career chasing a goal that always recedes before it. In the never-ending pursuit, the hound may notch up countless victories by passing the "winning post" in front; yet he is utterly indifferent to them. It's the electric hare he wants, and he is frustrated by his owner's willingness to settle for mere prize money.
On the other hand, only a pit-bull terrier could match Keane's aggression, whether towards opponents or colleagues. Even when celebrating goals, he often seemed to be in two minds whether to nuzzle his team mates or bite them. Then there was an infamous occasion at Old Trafford when a referee committed the outrage of giving the away team a penalty (for nothing more serious than a blatant foul inside the penalty box) and a pack of Man Utd players led by Keane chased him off the pitch. For some reason - probably panic - the referee kept back-pedalling and Keane kept following until both ran out of grass. Dressed in black but white in the face, the referee looked like a cornered badger.
If you were picking a dog to match Keane's intelligence, however, it would have to be the Alsatian. Cerebral activity is of course frowned upon in British football. The former England international Graeme Le Saux - the first professional soccer player to admit publicly that he was a Guardian reader - was cruelly stigmatised for his lifestyle choice. But even allowing that the bar had been set low, Keane's intellect has always stood out in the Premiership.
In a comment that says as much about English football as it does about the Corkman, the London Independent's tribute yesterday summed it up thus: "He was tough, but intelligent too.
After a United pre-season friendly in Los Angeles in 2003, he left the ground and headed to a Bob Dylan concert." That was it: the Independent produced no further exhibits for the defence, happy that the case was proved.
Yet this complex man has not chosen a greyhound, or a terrier, or an Alsatian to be his pet. He has chosen Triggs, and it is Triggs with whom he has now opted to spend more time. If the dog didn't know the words already, she will soon realise that The Times They Are a-Changin'.
Maybe it's not such a mismatch. Maybe Roy has an inner Labrador, hitherto obscured from public view. Certainly there were moments during the famous Tommy Gorman interview four years ago when his eyes looked big and soulful.
But I don't know: you still felt that if Tommy had reached out and petted him - and this seemed a likely development at one point - Roy would have severed his microphone hand.
In any case, maybe Triggs will now change him, help him to adapt to civilian life after his warlike career as a midfield general.
Golden Labradors are famous for their work as guide dogs. And as Roy leaves behind a world where pedestrian crossings were something delivered (with monotonous regularity) by Cristiano Ronaldo, he needs help adjusting.
Maybe Triggs will be Roy's "eyes", allowing him to see the world in a kinder, gentler way. We can only wish her well in the difficult days ahead.