EXCERPTS
My paw was throbbing as we walked slowly on the grass. Miss Oatendoton looked tuckered out. Our handlers tugged on our leashes to make us walk faster.
Bore in! yelled Bob to George. No, not Miss Tiger. You must be making a mistake. Maybe Mr. Lump Lump bore in, but not our beloved Miss Tiger.
Bore inthats what Miss Tiger did, Bob. I saw it with my own eyes. Yep, thats what the dog did.
My ears went up! Did I hear him right? He called me a dog! I could see Miss Oatendoton was getting upset. Her eyes widened her ears stood straight up. That was no easy feat for her since she had what is known as butterfly ears (they bend in the middle and flop down). But somehow she got them to stand up.
Although I knew what Bob and George were saying was the truth, I still couldnt believe my ears.
George was flapping at the mouth: She is six, you know.
Gazing at me for a moment, Bob replied, Hmm, that would make her ninety-six years old if she was a person.
Miss Oatendoton opened her mouth to say something. I stopped her, immediately anticipating what she was going to say.
Quietly I said, Bore in.
She again started to speak but I didnt give her a chance. I said quickly, I did that, Miss Oatendoton, I bore in.
Stupid term, bore in, she replied. All you did, Miss Tiger, was turn your head for less than a second. With a tear in her eye she said, You know what is going to happen to you, my dear Miss Tiger? Its off the track for you!
I know, I know. That miserable Mr. Lump Lump. As he flew past me, he hit my bad paw. I just reactedtook my eyes off that stupid fake rabbit. Bore in, thats what they call it.
Miss Oatendoton, I added, as far as my age is concerned, Ive heard people say we are a thousand years old! What really has gotten me mad is George calling me a dog. We are not dogs, we are greyhounds greyhounds!
...
Racing was hard work, and would happen day after day.
But because I bore in, they were taking me off the track.
My friends were worried because once you are off the track, you usually are never heard from again.
Some of us lucky ones would be adopted. I was one of the lucky ones.
...
Mommy and Daddy let the Nut and me play and run in the backyard. It really isnt much fun. Its hard to run in a backyard full of trees, flowers, and the Nut.
Yesterday, in a very pleasant voice I told the Nut, Nut, I know its not your fault for being so small. But why must you run in between my legs when we play?
The Nut barked at me and said in her high-pitched voice, Its fun! I make believe your legs are moving trees.
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