A Lucky End Game

Flying

So when was your end planned?  You were oblivious, but those around you knew how things were playing out.  They knew what the end game was.  Do you think they cared?  Oh, maybe some did, but to the rest you were just a number to be exploited.  You were taught to toe the line.  Your play was work, but you didn’t know any better.  They told you what to do, and you did it.  Yeah, and how did that work out for you? 

They're off!

Playing was running, and boy, could you do that.  People say you had wings for feet, but those wings can do a nose dive when you’re not producing.  You squeezed into a box on a track, and when that door opened, you burst out.  You ran like your life depended on it, and it did.  But you ran for the sheer joy of the chase not for any accolade.  When you crossed that finish line you were a winner in your heart whether you came in first or last.  Unfortunately, others didn’t look at it that way.  They only saw the wins and the money.  You had a few chances to show your stuff, but if you didn't deliver, you were OUT.  Out of work, out of a home, out of food, and possibly out of a life.  How many of your siblings and friends got on that conveyor belt never to be seen again?  

Around the turn

You had a lot of time to contemplate these questions as you lay in your small sleeping area. For countless hours a day, you lay there.  Oh, they let you out for eating, play time and such but your life knew no spark…except to run.  Sometimes excitement filled the air, and everyone smelled the difference.  You escaped your space and, along with others, traveled to where the thrill given by your flight of feet produced loud cheering.  The change was fun, for a while, but the grind of repetition got old.  

Happy &...

Finally you heard them talking.  You had lost too many times.  Lost what?  Then, something changed.  They took you to a transport hauler, loaded you in with two others in the same space.  Bewilderment gripped you.  You felt terror, wonder, and unease.  The hauler stopped, doors opened, another vehicle and then a new place.  Anxiety heightened but curious, you felt kind hands bathing, feeding, and loving you while being readied for your next step.  

Goofy

I was your next step, my sweet greyhound.  And my job is to love you for the rest of your life.  

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