My husband and I stock car race in Minnesota and Wisconsin from 
April to October.  When we got Hoosier as a puppy, I would be 
working during the day, and my husband was on 3rd shift, so he 
would be out in his workshop all day, and then sleep in the 
evening before going to work.  He would take baby Hoosier, about 
as big as full-grown cat, out to the workshop with him.  He would 
make her a little "nest" in the cockpit of the race car, and she 
would sleep while he would work on the car.  So she grew up as 
our "race mascot" with no concern of the loud race cars.  She 
attended just about every race with us, unless it was one of those 
terribly hot and humid summer days in our neck of the woods.  
People loved her and how well-behaved she was.  She didn't bark, 
except if you walked away from her while she was tied at the 
hauler, and she could still see you! Our home racetrack at the 
time consisted of the pits being in the middle of the track, which 
included a pit concession stand by the scalehouse.  This was quite 
nice as we, in the stands, could see what was going on when they 
were working on the car, the lineup before they got on the track, 
"disagreements of other drivers", etc.  Well, we started giving 
Hoosier "incentive" if her daddy ran a good race.  If he scaled, 
i.e. got 3rd or better in his heat race or 5th or better in the 
Main event, she would get a hot dog.  Well, after a short time, 
she knew the routine.  He would get out of his race car, pull his 
gear off, take her from the chain (that we tied her to the hauler 
in the pits with), and put her on the leash.  Well, as soon as she 
saw him go for that leash, she started dancing because she knew 
what was up.  One evening after my husband had raced his heat race, 
and before the next race was to begin, our race family was sitting 
in the stands chatting, and all of a sudden I see my husband bolting 
through the pits with the leash in his hand!  I look a little bit 
ahead of him, and there was Hoosier running through the pits too!  
She tears up to the scalehouse/concession stand, turns the corner 
and plops her hiney down and stares at the woman in the concession 
stand.  She wanted her hotdog that night, and if daddy wasn't going 
to get her there soon enough to suit her, she was going to get it 
on her own!  (Of course, prior to this, it got to the point that my 
husband didn't even have to buy her the hotdogs...the concession 
people would "accidentally" drop one on the ground....just for our baby.)