It wasn't all that long ago I ran the dusty
track for show,
Devoted and driven, my face pierced the wind
As race after race I fought to contend.
Slow at the turn and lacking in grace
I did what I could, but I never placed.
I loved to run and hear the crowds roar
But the cheers turned to boos when I didn't score.
Folks lost their money when they bet on me,
They called me a looser, said "retire number
three".
I had no idea what I was likely to find
As I walked from the track for the very last
time.
My person was waiting, eyes hard, face long,
I sensed inside the sadness, this time I wouldn't
go home.
I tried to change my person's mind
And wagged my mighty tail
But I knew, deep down, without a doubt
Just like racing I had failed.
We drove along a country road till we came upon
a town
Where, errected of the main road was a place
known as "the pound".
A pretty woman came outside and took me from
my crate,
My person signed the papers and looked me in
the face.
He said "I'm sorry, I have to leave you here
and have you put to sleep,
You're not as fast as all the others, you no
longer earn your keep".
I felt my heart break into bits as I walked with
head bowed low,
I knew that it was over, I had no place to go.
Inside the dingy building, I was checked and tagged
and weighed
A voice said, "We'll put him down tomorrow, if
not today".
I heard the pretty woman say, "Don't look him
in the eye,
He has that Greyhound gaze that says I do not
want to die".
They put me in a kennel, with others on death
row
I lay down on the concrete, and moaned so soft
and low.
As morning filtered through the glass I stretched
my weary bones
The pretty woman came to me and said, "It's time
to go".
The hall was long and dark and cold, I did not
cry or weep,
I used my eyes and face and soul, to halt eternal
sleep.
She tried her best to use defence, and look away
from me,
She seemed to know how wrong it was to do this
deadly deed.
She bent down close and held my face against her
silken cheek,
The needle entered my front leg, and quickly
I felt weak.
I heard the pretty woman sob as she laid me on
the floor,
I saw a last glimpse of her, and then I saw no
more.
I may not have been the fastest dog to ever run
the track
I just wish someone had loved me, so I could
have loved them back.
My racing days are over
Thought the pain would go away
But soon I learned a different fate
Was headed straight my way.
He reached his hands into my cage
And pushed me out once more,
I glanced at all my weary friends
As he lead me out the door.
It hurts to walk; it hurts to stand
Been through all I could endure,
But all my pains are nothing that
Someone’s love could not cure.
I’m pushed against a concrete wall
And know I’ve failed the test
He said I wasn’t fast enough
And reached into his vest.
I close my eyes and cower
As I shake, my senses dull,
Then I feel the barrel of a gun
Against my skull.
Isn’t there a better way
to entertain a crowd?
But my thoughts are interrupted
By a noise so hard and loud.
I’m just another failure
Racing to my final day,
And sometime all the winners
Will lose a race someday.
They call it an “exciting sport”
They say that it’s humane,
But a sport that always ends in death
To me, is not a game.
Lynn Kargol August
13, 2001