Going to the Dogs

Race night, Peterborough. Eyes down, hats on, bets on, hare screeches past, dogs chase. Molly feels sorry that the dogs never get to catch the hare, but not so sorry that she can’t enjoy going home with fifteen pounds more than she started with. Which is more, I think, than the rest of us can say.

We bet, we lost, we bet again. The occasional scream of delight as our number came in first. How easy it would be to go to the dogs. A new experience for many of us and our hats drew more attention than the dogs did. What fun we had! The food was good, the service swift.

Thank you Peterborough dog racing, we shall be back. Here we are on the front row…

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