Plight of the Greyhound

Let’s hear it for the Greyhound 
Ancient breed of canine friend. 
Immured inside each dog track, 
Running for your life around each bend. 
Confined in cages, when you’re not running; 
Always giving us your all. 
Without a touch of human kindness, 
With no love for you at all.

Hairpin turns and cold steel cages, 
Concealing well your rightful rages. 
Pain and exploitation, coming from the greed of Man. 
Running always running, to stay alive if you can. 
’Twas ever thus, my sweet companion 
Ever since the game began. 
No wasted food, if you should slow down, 
Starvation being your award. 
Living is only for the winner 
Death, if you should lose is your reward.

I rescued you from dying 
To show the world that you have worth. 
I am honored by your friendship, 
You fill my life with silent mirth. 
A breed of dog, so very gentle 
With noble bearing and quiet grace. 
Every day, I’m glad I know you, 
I see God’s image in your face.

Copyright 2002 Benita LoCastro Smith