A racing dog that is NOT a grayhound

The struggle was furious but quick. As the checkered flag dropped, the pack of bloodthirsty sight hounds conceded victory to the most unlikely of victors.
The pack sulked slowly off track, frothing mouths wide open, panting; a mass of heaving lungs with every ragged breath. Stepping softly the group moved toward the shade and disappeared into the shadows of the kennels in a singular movement like a thick smoke cloud disappearing in a quiet breeze.

Meanwhile, French Gagne took a parade lap in what can only be described as one of the most improbable race wins ever witnessed by the spectators in the grandstands and the race marshals alike.
The young French bulldog sat proudly on the seat of his gleaming yellow and gray motorcycle. At least those are the colors he assumed comprised his livery. He was color-blind after all, and he really couldn’t distinguish much on his machine.

He really was unable to appreciate the design that Hornré Atabliér had devoted weeks of special attention to constructing and assembling for this very occasion.

It’s ok. French Gagne was only in it for the kibble and the portrait.