Here's Alison: The Challenge
The Auckland Greyhound Club had a special night in which a pacer raced against a greyhound. But what if the race distance had been a mile, and the greyhound had been racing against a work-hardened farm dog? Alison Ross dreams of might-have-beens.
Now my name's not Fred Dagg but I too,
Had a farm, before I passed it on to my son,
And now I’ve retired, I’ve gone to the dogs,
Well at least, I’m watching them run!
Now a small point I’ve noticed
Which puzzles me so,
When greyhounds are fast,
And farm dogs are slow.
Why the distance of races
Are always so small,
Over a mile, my Skip,
Would have beaten them all!
Now there was a dog, that I’d call a Champ,
For with my Honda out at full pace,
Two miles he’d run to my whistle call,
Out to the back of the place!
Now I had a dream on The Challenge Cup night,
All mixed up, and ever so silly,
For instead of a Pacer…there was old Skip
Racing your Takanini Lily.
Now he weren’t much to look at
And he did look a dill, with his racing number and all,
But the race was a mile and boy he could go,
With me blowing me whistle and all.
Now Takanini Lily was lightning fast,
She really is bred for the job.
The punters all loved it and many like me,
Had gone and bid their last bob!
Now in that crazy dream what happened next
Was Skip won your darn Challenge Cup
While I was making my fortune,
From owners who all, wanted their bitches in pup!
But alas I woke up and my dream was all gone,
Along with me fortune in fees
So I’m back at the dogs, betting again,
And I’d like to ask you all please…
If just now and then,
Once in a while
Couldn’t your greyhounds,
Race for a mile?
