In Da Beginin

Since it hafs been pointed out that sum of my readers may not speek New York Greyhound, *Eeyebrol Roll* I haf included a small glossary to assist uze in da readin of our travels.

Officially my story did start when I wuz N overly adorable, cute, wiggly greyhound puppy, wif a bunch of happy go lucky siblings.  We played; wrestled N chased each other until we wuz ‘zausted.  Pretty much a normal life for lots N lots of puppies of all kinds.

As we grew, little by little, training wuz added to our daily routine wif da goal that one day we wud become race winning hounds N houndettes.   About that time, da people wot owned us started to realize that one of my front feets wuzn’t developing quite like da other one. It didunt take very long before they decided that with my spechul foot I wud neber make it as a racer.      

Fast forward a couple munths N I wandered into a garage in Amarillo. I wuz starvin, only weighed about 39 pounds, had bite marks on my throat N neck, N claw marks down my back.  All in all, I wuz a rather pathetic N pitiful sight, (far from da stud muffin of today). Outside Amarillo is one of the areas in Texas where hunters still use greyhounds ta either hunt coyotes or N some cases, use them for coyote bait.  Because of my tender age N da way I looked when I arrived, they did figure that I did beze bait.