King of The Track
I was born, separated from my kin
They could see I had potential to win.
They honed my instinct, trained me with care
Made me the best racer, beyond compare.
I was cream of the crop, king of the track
The best racing greyhound, head of the pack,
But when your at the top you can only go down
I got older and slower, from my head fell my crown.
Younger dogs came, so much faster than me
The only races run now are in my memory.
I was left at a kennel for a home maybe
No interest shown yet, I must wait and see.
Like so many others before I became a discard,
Not held by anyone in high regard.
No longer able to earn my keep
Shown the door, an expendable life, cheap.
Far too many are bred for the racing industry
Still someone cared enough to try to home me.
Author: Tracy Errington