Have you heard?

Southern preacher Fred Craddock tells about an unusual meeting with a greyhound:

On my last trip to Southampton, I was visiting a family. We sat around after dinner and talked. The children played with the family dog, a large, long, narrow sort of dog.

‘That’s a full-blooded greyhound,’ the lord of the house proudly told me.

‘We got him after his racing days were finished. He’s great with children.’

The children rolled on his back, their heads between his paws. He licked them affectionately. Eventually it was time for the kids to go to bed. The parents gathered them up, leaving me alone with the dog. I asked the dog,

‘What’s it like to be a greyhound and race professionally? I’ve never been to a greyhound race myself.’

‘It’s not a bad life,’ said the greyhound. ‘They treat you like a king. Feed you well. I had it made down there in Florida, racing.’

‘Well, why did you leave? Did you just age out? You don’t look that old to me,’ I said.

‘No, I’m not old enough for retirement. I quit.’

I persisted, ‘Well, what made you quit?’

He replied, ‘Well, if you had ever been to a greyhound race, you might understand. In every greyhound race, all of the dogs line up, we are released, and then we follow a little white rabbit thing around the track.

‘It’s not really a rabbit, it’s just some sort of stuffed thing that is white and is pulled around the track. We all chase it. One day, after a race, I got a close look at that rabbit. To my shock, I found out the rabbit wasn’t real! That meant the race wasn’t real. So I quit. I was almost ashamed to have spent so much of my life chasing a fake rabbit. . . all that running and running.  It’s kind of embarrassing to be honest with you. . . ‘"

Have you heard?  The rabbit isn’t real.

I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and a striving after wind (Ecclesiastes 1:14).

HT: The text for the story is largely from here.