Bridges.

Some people take their unwanted Greyhounds to a high bridge and throw them, alive and kicking over the side. Imagine...if you will...the fear in shining bright eyes, witnessing the rising ground revolving and rushing towards them. The searing pain on impact, the once sleek and powerful athletic animal left for dead or dying by the human kind. With their body crushed and broken do they howl and whimper, calling for help, or do they lay silent upon realising that no one will answer their call, no one will come to their rescue. Only low groans waiting for death to release them from their suffering. Only one more bridge to cross.

(Written by an ex-racing enthusiast.)

Hannah

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