And They're Off

This past Saturday, I was in the mood to get out of the house. I didn't have any particular destination planned. I just had to go do something. I grabbed the "Things to do in the Kansas City Metropolitan Area" booklet. My husband and I got in the car and headed out on an adventure.

In the back of the booklet, there was a listing for 33 free things to do. Number 33 was The Woodlands. Hmmmmm. As I read the information provided, I discovered that The Woodlands is a race track. They offer horse racing, weiner dog racing (yep. It is advertised as "wiener dog" racing) and dog racing. I called the contact number and was told that there were races that afternoon. Unfortunately, the wiener dog race happens only once a year, on the last Sunday in July. That will have to wait until next year.

Anyway, I'm sure you can guess what happened next. That's right. We ended up at The Woodlands.

Okay, I have never been to a horse race, nor a dog race. And while waiting for my husband to return from the restroom, I chatted with the nice man standing next to me. I could see the dogs run by from where we were standing. It was exciting and naturally, I squealed with delight. The nice man asked me if this was my first time at the dog track.

"Yes. I've never been to a dog race before."

"Where are you from?" he asked with a look on his face that clearly communicated, "What planet did you come from? Everybody has been to the dog track."

I defended my ignorance with some pitiful excuse that there just were any track near my home town and left it at that. We went on to discuss the wiener dog race. He said it is just too funny to watch. Most the dogs don't even finish the race. They get distracted.

When my husband finally found me, we wandered off to the upstairs viewing area. The next race was about to start and of course, I wanted to place a bet.

Being a novice at dog gambling, I walked up to the betting window and inquired, "Okay, how do I do this?"

The girl at the window looked at me like I had a third eye growing from my forehead. She turned to the fellow next to her and shrugged her shoulders. He poked his head around the corner and asked what I was interested in doing.

So, I scooted over to his window and explained that I had never done this before and wanted to know how it worked.

"How much do you want to bet?" he asked.

"Little as possible," I replied. I have zero risk tolerance. Las Vegas makes me nervous. "Isn't the minimum two dollars?" See? I'm not completely stupid.

"Yes. Two dollars on To Show."

"What's that?"

"That's if your dog comes in first, second or third." That means Win, Place, or Show. It took me a few minutes to figure that one out by myself.

"Okay. What dogs are racing?" He pointed to the television monitor and explained all the colors and numbers.

"Well then, I'll bet two dollars To Show on number 4." I handed over my money. "Now, if my dog wins, I'll be back just as tickled as can be."

He was polite enough to smile at me as if he were enjoying my enthusiasm and not like I was a simpleton.

A few minutes later, the dog handlers escorted the dogs to the starting boxes. They put the dogs in and then ran to the end of the track. Then the little mechanical rabbit zipped around the track and as soon as it passed the starting blocks, the dogs were off and running.

They run FAST. The whole thing lasts less than 30 second. But it sure is an EXCITING 30 seconds. I was hollering as was everyone else. My number 4 dog (who I picked because it's little jacket was green and I thought it was pretty) was bumped coming around the first turn and unfortunately, never recovered. Too bad for me....my dog came in last.

Poop.

By this time, my wonderful husband who was doing his best to educate me in the ways of gambling on races, produced the information booklet with all the dogs' statistics. We looked at the runners for the next race. I didn't care what the numbers meant. I just picked the coolest name. I chose the number 6 dog, "Tater Clips." How funny is that?

Back to the betting window. I explained to the fellow that my dog had come in last. He smiled and said he had noticed.

I put my two dollars down on the number 6 dog To Show.

Moments later, they were off. My dog was running like crazy. She was so fast, but not fast enough. She ended up in last place.

Poop.

I was picking the wrong dogs.

My husband did some research on the dogs in the next race and compared the statistics. He eliminated several dogs and ended up with the two that he thought would do well.

Back to the betting window. This time my two dollars went to the number 2 dog in the little blue jacket. This was my last chance as this was the last race for the afternoon.

And they were off and running. As they turned the first corner, the number 4 dog took a tumble and recovered looking dazed and confused. The number two dog was in second place and they rounded the second turn and held its position in the stretch. By the third turn, some other dog was coming up the side. Everybody, my husband and I include, was yelling and cheering. As they rounded the last turn and headed down the home stretch, another dog passed number 2. Then a brown dog zipped up from behind and pulled ahead for a photo finish.

My dog came in fourth.

Poop.