In the world of dog racing, it’s not just about whether or not you can teach an old dog new tricks, but about whether it’s fair to make them learn tricks they never wanted in the first place. As it stands, 44 states have decided that forcing dogs to race around a track for the entertainment of mostly nonexistent crowds is not the way to go. Five years ago, the state of Florida jumped on the bandwagon, thanks in part to the efforts of dog-loving advocates who pushed for the closure of the racetracks. The voters agreed, and today, the 12 out of 14 dog tracks in Florida are but a memory, with the four-legged athletes finding more cozy environments in loving homes.
Now, those advocating for these animals are setting their sights on West Virginia, home to the last two dog tracks in the United States. It’s not just about being trendy or going along with what everyone else is doing—it’s about common sense and compassion for our barking buddies. These dogs are kept in less than ideal conditions, ones that would make even a couch potato feel active. They’re not allowed to be the playful, tail-wagging companions they’re meant to be. Instead, they’re coerced into a life of running in endless circles, hoping to catch a faux rabbit in a quest that only bears fruit for gambling aficionados.
Dog racing is not the booming business one might expect. With barely any spectators placing their bets, these tracks trickle revenue instead of generating it by the bucketful. The notion of profitability in this venture seems as elusive as the mechanical rabbit the dogs so desperately chase. Among the free market’s tenets is that if something isn’t profitable, perhaps it’s time to pack it up. Yet, these tracks remain, open for business to the ghostly crowds and elusive profits.
As the rest of the country moves towards more pet-friendly policies, the resistance seen in West Virginia seems both puzzling and amusing. Perhaps it’s due to a fierce loyalty to tradition, akin to hanging onto outdated technology like rotary phones, or maybe it’s just that stubborn streak every dog owner knows well—the one that appears when a dog refuses to come inside from the yard. Whatever the reason, the call for change continues to grow louder.
Ultimately, the matter at hand is about doing right by these animals. It’s about whether to continue treating them as tools of entertainment or embracing a compassionate approach that treats them with the care and respect they deserve. The direction is clear: those who’ve already adopted this change argue that ending dog racing is a move toward being a more humane society. For a state known for its mountains, West Virginia certainly has a hill to climb. The advocates believe they know the answer—it’s as plain as a wagging tail and as hopeful as a sniff from a curious nose.
