Pataskala Downs

This is a Sunday Story – not only because it’s Sunday – but this happened on a Sunday. You can bet on it!

Dog Racing


Wheeling Downs is a dog racing track on Wheeling  Island in the Ohio River. Specially bred greyhounds sprint around the course, chasing the mechanical “rabbit”.  Bettors  carefully read the statistics – wins, losses, splits; and sires, dames and trainers. The racing “form” is their guide and Bible. 

We used to wander onto Wheeling Island for a pleasant afternoon.  There’s a casino where you can feed the slot machines for a bit. Then maybe a few minutes at the five dollar blackjack table, and onto late lunch and betting on the brindle and black dogs. 

Now that we are in the rescue world, we don’t bet on the dogs anymore. Greyhounds live a tough life – their only enjoyment comes from those few seconds on the track . But we did have our own “Pataskala Downs” for an exciting few minutes in our fenced in backyard last Sunday morning.

To the Post

Three of our five dogs were hanging out with us on the back deck as we drank our late morning coffee. Jenn and I were on a slow start to the day. It was a late Saturday night of Fourth of July fireworks and libations. Then the fireworks began in the backyard. A bunny, just a teenager, made the mistake of getting inside the fence and sprinting along the back line. And, in a flash, the three dogs were through the deck gate: “they’re off!”

Sunday news on the outdoor TV was quickly left behind as the rabbit made his first circuit around the backyard course.  “Peter” had the agility advantage, taking the corners and u-turns with speed. But our bayou rescue Lou had the flat speed in the straightaways. Keelie, our Aussie mix would catch up at the bends, and our Lab Atticus gamely hung in as the older dog in the mix. 

Peter was desperately searching for any escape path. But, unfortunately for him, when we took on our newest rescue, CeCe, our “Baby Yoda” puppy (lucky for us, she was cooling off inside) we escape-proofed the barriers.  So it was onto lap two, with Lou closing in, almost enough to feel the brush of the cottontail. 

By a Whisker

They almost ended the pursuit in disaster (or success, depending on your point of view) as Peter desperately headed for a corner by our shed. But he managed to scoot through the legs and tails to double back and start lap number three.

Meanwhile the “crowd”, Jenn and I, were making our bets known by shouting “NO!!” at the top of our lungs, and actually entering the race course to somehow intervene. I once was a sprinter, almost half a century ago, but even back then I wouldn’t have been able to join in this chase.  I wandered behind though, for what looked like an inevitable scrum when the rabbit fur flew. 

It was on lap number four that, as Peter’s legs started to fail, he found the only weakness in “Fortress Dahlman”. There was just enough room for a teenaged rabbit with nothing to lose to slip under the back gate – quickly followed by the noses of Lou, Keelie and Atticus as they tracked his scent. But, thank goodness, the crack was too small and the gate held against the pressing dogs.

Win, Place and Show

Lou won by a half a length, with Keelie second and Atticus a close third. Lou paid out 3:1, three dollars on your one dollar bet. And, if you called the trifecta, the finish in order – you’d collect a fifty dollar win. Since CeCe and our eldest, Buddy, failed to make the post, there was no superfecta in this race.

 But the real winner was Peter, whose bunny heart must still be racing as I write this report.  Hopefully he’s learned his fence breeching lesson. Meanwhile – I’m reinforcing the “fort”. 

The Sunday Story Series

Author: Marty Dahlman

I'm Marty Dahlman. After forty years of teaching and coaching track and cross country, I've finally retired!!! I've also spent a lot of time in politics, working campaigns from local school elections to Presidential campaigns.