A Eulogy for Race
We got Race a number of years ago. I don't really remember when it was, but I do know that we were in the old house on Duke. Race retired from the greyhound tracks a couple years before with a losing record and a retarded name (they called him Yahoo). He was a total pain in the ass, truth be told, but it was his penchant for the obnoxious that made him most endearing. He had what could be called a "good life" for a racing greyhound, and I'm glad that we got to take care of him for these last several years. I'm sure he's up there in the doggy equivalent of heaven chasing some kid's pet rabbit that died and eating it.