The greyhound dream

Chapter 10

The door opened, and Storm ran, he felt the whip bite his butt, and raced to the lead. A greyhound behind him was getting whipped, and screams and whimpers echoed through his mind. A white and black greyhound was getting ahead of him. He tried to push himself further, but figured a plan in his mind instead. He would save his energy, but place a solid second, then when the white and black greyhound slowed, just the slightest bit, he would bolt forwards, leaving all the other dogs in his tracks. Storm ran behind the white and black dog, a light brindle threatened to take his position in second, but with what Storm had planned he wasn't worried. He saw the white and black dog slow slightly, figuring he was safe, and Storm bolted forwards. He felt like he was running on air, and surprisingly went farther than he suspected, he was at least a good 2 meters and a half in front of the surprised white and black dog. Storm wasn't even slightly tired, and pushed himself further, bopping up to 3 meters away from the rest. He was proud to see that the whipping technique had worked, though he wasn't exactly glad that had happened. Storm raced even further, till he felt his legs protesting. He slowed slightly, figuring there was no way the other dogs could pass him. The finish line neared, and Storm passed. Pride bubbled in his blood, he pranced around the men. They laughed and patted his head.

"Add a boy Storm! I see that raining really worked! I'll make you do it one more time, then we'll head in for the night! Tomorrow I'll book a race for you too," Storm's trainer proudly laughed.

Storm waited in the stall for the man to come back, he saw out of the tiny holes that he had prepared the cart and was waving to the man. The door opened and Storm ran again. He ran as fast as he could, the go cart man was trailing his behind. He felt the whip pierce his flesh, and tried to run faster. The whip ripped away at his back again. Storm howled and grimaced, running faster and faster. The man still advanced on him and whipped him. Storm knew he couldn't run faster, but tried anyways, exceeding his limits and going slightly faster than ever before. This time the whip didn't hit him, he smiled, but was running out of energy fast. Storm panted and slowed slightly, but was hit with the whip. He felt blood trickle down his back, pain clambered up his spine. Storm ran faster again, near the end of the race he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep that speed up. He tried for as long as he could, but was forced to slow. He felt the whip slash his skin, but was across the track just in time before it was able to hurt him again. The man clambered out of his buggy and patted Storm's head. He put Storm back in his cage, and when Storm woke again he was back at the house and was being prodded back into his comfy cage. The man had already poured a cup of dog food. Storm wolfed down the chunky dog food and slept. The man didn't wake up the dogs this time, it was way later when Storm got up. His cage door was opened, and Prize wasn't in sight. Most greyhounds were already awake, and were briskly chatting in the field.

"Hey Storm, I'm surprised the trainer didn't take us today, anyways only Prize went, and no one knows where," Fly yawned.

He had dried blood that matted his fur. Light was watching from a distance, she was obviously angry about the trainer's behavior. Storm lapped up some water from his kennel and chatted with Fly, laying in the grassy field. Prize strutted in, with the man trailing behind him, though a little fresh blood was on his fur, he seemed happy about something. A blue ribbon hung on his neck, and instantly Storm knew why Prize was proud. The man unattached Prize's lead and attached Storm onto it. He muttered something under his breath and let Storm sit in his front seat. They drove by the illegal arena, and to a stadium with a cheery crowd. Storm was put in a racing box, and became utterly bored when the mega phone man went on and on blabbering non sense. Finally he stopped yelling, and said go! The door flung open, and Storm bolted forward. He found that these dogs were much faster than he thought, and placed 5. Storm grumbled and passed 4. He was impatiently waiting for number 3 to run out of energy, though his boundless strides seemed to never slow. Storm grew worried as they passed the second corner, and the third dog was still going strong. Bounding forwards he began to challenge the third dog for his position. The third dog seemed not to notice Storm on his flank, and didn't notice it when Storm stole his place. The man with the whip flashed in his mind, and he started to panic and race forwards, passing the second dog. They were in a crude battle with each other, Storm taking second, then the other dog, then Storm. The forth place dog that Storm had passed got in the mix too, passing the old third place greyhound. Storm barked, taking lead of the group and tailing behind the first place dog. He wasn't able to catch up though, when they neared the finish line both Storm and the first place dog ran forwards at full speed. Due to the first place dog already being in front of Storm, he won the race. Storm was happy with second place though, and was given a gold ribbon. The third place dog had a blue, and first place had a red, blue, and gold. Storm strutted up to his trainer, happy that he had gotten a better position than Prize. The man took Storm home, for a well deserved half cup of food and a rest. Prize was bragging about the race to other dogs, saying they were the fastest on earth. He barely glanced at Storm when he came through the gate.

"Hey Prize guess what I got?" Storm mischievously smirked, "A gold ribbon, that is for the dogs who placed second in the race!"

"What! How could a slow greyhound like you get that! Well whatever," Prize grumbled.

Storm proudly walked over to his food dish and chowed down, Prize continued to tell his story, but with much less enthusiasm. After he was finished eating Storm talked to Fly for a little while, then slept his soreness away.