She was fifteen at the time. She is now eighteen, living with two young men as their wife and is apparently quite happy and content.

She agreed to let me tape her story and to put it into a book if the opportunity arose. Of course April is not her real name.

"When Mom died, Dad sort of threw himself into making the farm go and I guess I did, too. We lived and breathed greyhounds and races and training. I went to sleep with dogs barking a few feet from my window and woke up at dawn with them barking at the sunrise and wanting breakfast."

"I was fifteen and I was itchy for sex but I didn't know it. I had hot flashes and I was always squirming around in bed and masturbating like mad before going to sleep, but I was a dope, I just didn't think it was unusual. I guess it wasn't unusual, actually. I was mature for my age. I had my growth, as they say, by the time I was thirteen and that's about the time I started masturbating like a mink."

"I didn't know it was 'bad.' It felt pretty damn good to me. Physically, I needed a boy to fuck the shit out of me, but I didn't know any, really, I didn't. We were on the go almost all the time, driving up to Oregon for the track season or over to Montana or down to the tracks across the border… and I met lots of men – shit, they were drooling all over me – but I was scared of them and I was a silly virgin… you know how it goes."

"And I had to take care of Dad – he limped around with that short leg from the accident – and I had to take care of the dogs…"

"My special dog was April's Boy. That was his official name for racing. I just called him Bo. He was mine, heart and soul. He loved me and I loved him. He had the biggest, widest, brownest eyes you ever looked into. He was so sleek and beautiful. He was handsome!"

"I loved to hug him – I went out at night and went into his private run and just hugged him! He was so warm and vibrant! So full of energy and life!"