Holy Racehorse!

Feet. Errrrrr.... Hooves, I mean

2011-07-15T10:42:00.000-07:00

Thought I'd put these thoughts on paper again. Kentucky has been one wet state this year.
It's affecting hooves. I'm seeing abscesses, most friends I have are having trouble right now.

I've got a horse I picked up out of the killpen at a slaughter sale years ago. He was there because of his feet. Since I've spent years restoring bad hooves, taking him home was not a real big deal to me, although a ton of work.

He had chronic coffin joint infections and laminitis. There was only a small degree of rotation in one of his hooves. Treating this boy compared to some I've treated in the past was a cake-walk.

Over the years, when you're dealing with laminitis and founder, what you'll find out is that you can literally restore the majority of horses back to soundness IF you're willing to take the time and do the work. And it's a lot of work.

And there are a lot of products out there that are supposed to help hoof health.
Let me put it this way: Been there, done that, have the T-Shirt.
The results are, at best, lacking. Hoof supplements are great for horses who already have healthy hooves, or just general hoof problems (by that I mean problems other than laminitis or chronic infections).

Laminitis CAN be fixed. Not through the use of bizarre shoes that constrict blood-flow to the hoof even more. It's a painful, long, tedious process and it can take years, but it can be done. It all depends on what you want the horse to be able to do, long-term.

Make a long story short, I meant to address a big market out there concerning hooves:
Supplements.

There is only ONE supplement that is worth the money I've paid for and I've used it outside of its' intended purpose, as well:

Power Horse Trace Minerals.

The boy I got from the killpen took a year or so to be sound at all gaits, and by that I mean racing gaits: Walk, Trot, Canter, Gallop. For 2 years or more, he kept abscessing and going dead-lame. I tried everything under the sun, or so I thought to avail him whatever help I could find on the market,
Biotin is crap. General hoof-supplements are crap. I needed something that would finally put a stop on the ongoing problems this horse was having with abscesses, which were due to DEAD tissue in his hooves, not gravel.
An abscess is a good bit different than a gravel.
When live tissue dies and is still present in the hoof, the fact that the hoof has blood circulation in it, will keep renewing the live tissue through blood-supply and oxygenation.
This can take years.

The coffin bone (the bone inside the hoof which sort of resembles a triangle that sits ground-parallel) is the only bone in a mammal that has its own blood supply. This means that when this bone is cut into or injured, it can actually bleed.
The lamina in the hoof are what keep the coffin bone "floating" in position. This feather-like, small contraption interlock with each other and provide sort of a cushion structure directly inside the hoof walls.
When laminitis occurs, there is an inflammation of the lamina.
Since the hoof has blood supply circulating through it, which is obviously provided by the horses' total blood supply, there can be different reasons why this happens.
The main reason is probably elevated bacterial levels from fermentation of feed in the intestines.
When fermentation of feed occurs (i. e. from feeding corn, since corn is barely disgested in the stomach; corn basically gets digested in the cecum - past the stomach- where it is broken down through fermentation. Feed to much corn and you're really helping put your horse at risk for laminitis). Too much fermentation, which creates bacteria in order to take place and those bacteria float on through the bloodstream to eventually reach the hooves.

Voila! Laminitis.

Limiting blood supply to the hooves is a dumb idea. Oxygen regenerates cells and helps them heal. Hence putting bar shoes or other medieval contraptions on your horses' feet, in the long run, isn't going to HEAL the problem.

If your horse is in the acute stages of laminitis, there are things you can do to stop it from progressing.

1. Stand him in ice or a cold stream of water. Cooling off those hooves will keep the inflammation from progressing and, in many cases, it will stop the episode.

2. Keep him moving. BL Solution in lieu of bute can be a great help without irritating the stomach.

3. If you keep your horse turned out in a dry lot (grass is not a good idea if you know you're dealing with grass-related founder), make sure that you keep his hay and water apart at a good distance. You need to force your horse to have to move.
Movement increases blood supply. Blood supply generates higher levels of oxygen. You follow the logic here.

4. If he's laminitic because of exposure to any sort of toxic weed, get some activated charcoal (any pharmacy will have this). You may have to syringe it into him. Watch out, this stuff will stain!

5. Get your horse some Power Horse Trace Minerals. The stuff is patented for the treatment of laminitis and is a potent detox agent.

I keep my runners on Power Horse. It's simply chelated trace minerals that come from an ancient seabed rock in South America. Every mineral you can imagine is in there.
Nothing will help your horses' hooves like this stuff.
Additionally, it helps plug nutritional deficiencies and gets rid of overages. If your horse likes to eat dirt, there is something lacking in his diet. Power Horse will fix that.

I've known people who have used it to help with Cushings.

And coming back to the reason I wrote this post:
Abscesses.

When I put my boy on Power Horse, he blew 6 abscesses out of one hoof and 7 out of the other within a one month period. The poor thing couldn't stand straight throughout. I still soaked and packed and turned him out.

Since then, he's had an odd abscess here and there over the years but nothing serious like the dead matter that was shed out of his hoof when I put him on Power Horse that first time.
He grew a brand-new hoof in a 4 month period.
His feet used to be shelly, his hoof walls thin.
No more. He's got the thickest hoofwall I've seen on a horse and his feet are so rock-hard that it's tough to trim them.

So, do your horse a favor. If he has hoof problems, put him on Power Horse Trace Minerals and put an end to his (and your) problems.

This soap box address is now officially concluded.

"To Breed or Not To Breed"

2011-07-14T21:00:00.000-07:00

I've worked at breeding farms. I've foaled babies. I've taken care of broodmares. I've handled stallions.
Doing all of that for other people is a different ballgame than to operate your own breeding enterprise. For one, you don't have nowhere the hired manpower.

My broodmare band is small but, as far as I'm concerned, good quality and conformation.
It's not a large band of mares. In total, I have 4 actual broodmares. This excludes Molly, who was very enthusiastically hollering at Doodle today when I brought him up to tease the girls. I'm not really counting Molly into the broodies gang because she is going to be running this fall.

Cat D'Or AKA KittyKats, is 17 hands at the stick and as much as I hate to say it, sort of resembles a stick. She's tall and lanky. There is nothing wrong with her conformation, she's just, well, tall and lanky.

"Cat D'Or" by Cats At Home x Ruthann D'Or

She's a sweet mare who can be very stubborn and was a monster under saddle. No one could hold her and she just wouldn't quit going. Tough to train according to my good friend Mark, who trained her through her career. Kat has some ankle track jewelry that would flare up during training repeatedly. Kat was retired from the track last winter.

Yesterday KittyKats was letting us know she's in season and wants a date with Doodle.
So today, we pulled her out of the pasture, put her up in the barn and brought Mr. Hot Pants up to her to see where we're at.
Kitty is a maiden mare, which means she's never been bred before. Nature takes care of a lot of things but that doesn't mean they automatically know what to do and when to do it.
Kitty is also a dominant mare. She'll squeal at anything. Another mare comes up. Squeal.
She smells a pile that's not familiar. Squeal. A ball of mane hair off Doodle after mane pulling. Squeal.
'Course the first thing she did was "Squeal!" at Doodle.

Well, he squealed right back but he sounded like he meant it a whole lot more than she did.
So we sniff and snort noses. We squeal some more.
Kitty turns her butt to him and winks. Poor Doodle is about to have a heart attack.
This, no doubt, is the equivalent of the nerdy guy with glasses going to a bar and the hot brunette in stiletto heals coming up to him and raising her mini skirt to flaunt her garter belt.

Around she turns again and we have more of the mysterious and undoubtedly raunchy sweet nothings whispered between their two sets of nostrils.
Again she whirls around and winks and this time, backs up close enough for him to sniff her right on the tail.

By nature, mares are all hoochies. Period. There's nothing subtle or endearing about these mating rituals. If human females acted that way, the whole race would be dubbed whores.
Watching, or participating in the mating rituals of horses is not for the faint-hearted or easily embarrassed types. It is what it is, the way mother nature intended.

We take Kitty out to the roundpen. I wait a moment and follow with Doodle.
Now mind you, all the other mares are hollering in the pasture. Every horse is up on their toes.
This is exciting stuff!!!!! Who can think straight when there is all this exciting stuff happening?!?

Apparently not me. In the hustle bustle and excitement, I missed a crucial detail which turned the whole breeding event into a fiasco within seconds.

I've bred Doodle before, myself. He also covered a couple of mares last year.
The routine is that you lead him to the mare (or vice versa) while one or the other is in a stall.
Shank is over Doodle's nose.
Take the mare out and get her situated to breed.
Walk Doodle a couple of rounds and put the chain from over his nose INTO HIS MOUTH.

Well, shoot me and the horse I rode in on, I forgot.
Doodle thought it was still "play silly games with the mare to get her ready" time.
God God Almighty, that poor horse was so excited and over-excited and then again excited, his "weewee" was mushroomed like a giant bistro umbrella, he kept smacking himself with it, no doubt to try and get some relief.
Kitty just stood there and waited and waited while Doodle kept nuzzling and hollering and nuzzling and got frustrated, because he thought that's what he was supposed to do, since there was no chain in his mouth, which would have told him it's actually time to breed: Mount, Insert "weewee", Do the Do and Dismount.

He ended up running in circles, completely losing his head (his brain tends to shrink in size when he gets THAT excited) and had to be cold hosed for a while.
The poor guy probably has blue balls tonight.

On the up side (I don't mean his up side, which was up for a long while after), I did realize my mistake shortly, fessed up to my friend who was there helping and we gave up before the scenario actually took on disastrous proportions.

Tomorrow, we give it another go. This time the chain will be where it belongs. Along those same lines, I'm hoping the "weewee" will go where it belongs as well.
And I gotta do this shit another 4 or possibly 5 times in the next few weeks, at a minimum.
The expression "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" comes to mind....

The moment was in a way Shakespearean... To Breed Or Not To Breed?
Today's answer was a resounding "No!"

Back to Blogging!

2011-07-13T18:38:00.001-07:00

It's been ages since I last blogged. It's been on my list of things to do. I finally have things set up and can start back. So much has happened since the last entry.

First, my business went bust. Literally. Economy hit hard. People were out of money. No one could pay their bills any longer. I folded up tent and took a job as a "barn manager" in Pennsylvania.

Well, the job was a scam and I was a glorified stall mucker through the entire winter, feeding, mucking, feeding, day in and out all winter (40 or so horses.)
I gave notice and let them have a chance and plenty of time to find a replacement.
I won't go into detail about the nuts that frequented that barn. *cough*

Racing is one of those things that get tough once in a while and you burn out. Taking a break is healthy. Telling yourself you're quitting the race track is... well, an illusion at best.
Once you go out in the non-racing horse world and you run across all the backyard experts who know everything better than anyone else, well, it's enough to pull your hair out.
It's healthier to say: I'm taking a break. Quitting the track is an impossibility.
Once a race-tracker, always a race-tracker.

In any case, I moved back to Kentucky. Economy still tough, no one is making money. There are no jobs. Better I have my own string of horses than owner's horses.
After all, I'd much rather get 100% of the purse money than 10%.

Now just to figure out where to find stalls and a place to train from...

After 3 moves (yes, you read right, THREE), I have landed, once again, back in Louisville.
I think God is trying to tell me something.
Found a barn and acres for the by now large band of broodmares and Mr. Doodle, who is a proud first time daddy. Filly born on May 12, 2011, out of Mari's Princess.
She's gorgeous, correct and has a rear end that will drop your jaw. Photos to follow.

Why am I taking horses off other trainers, figuring out their ailments and then running them, fixing them, just to have them claimed from me?
I'd rather breed and run my own!

Lots has happened in the last year and a half. It would be impossible for me to cram it all into one post, so I'm not even going to attempt it.

Needless to say, things have kept going and although it is late in the season, I am currently in the process of breeding mares. Teased today and one is ready. Breeding her tomorrow.
Another 4 mares to go. Five Doodle babies next summer, and a little late BUT I seriously doubt any of his babies will be 2-year-old runners. So, technically, I could breed in friggin' October and that'd be just fine with me *grin*.

Metro Molly, a filly I acquired last year and ran a few times, is coming back to training for the Turfway meet this fall/winter. Molly is big, gorgeous and loves to run run run. Molly also loves to turn the pasture or paddock into a racetrack. She isn't interested in being just a horse. She just wants to be a racehorse. Molly is 6 years old this year and this is her last season racing coming up. I'm getting Molly in foal (supposed to help settle her for racing) and next summer, after Turfway closes early spring, Molly can be a full-time mommy. We'll see if her baby ends up a natural racehorse like her.

I've looked forward to posting my first blog for a long time. Do I have stories to tell!!!! But just now, none of it is coming together. So bear with me, I'm sure there thoughts will start flowing soon enough.

Trickle Me Pink!

2009-06-27T16:01:00.000-07:00

Loopy (right) saying "Hi" to another filly

Trickle Me Good, AKA Loopy, raced today at Churchill in the 5th race.

Loopy has been back for a couple of months now since her almost year-long lay up.
After I claimed her for her new owners, she turned out to have a stress fracture in her pelvis.

So, home she went.

Loopy has raced 3 times since her return with not a single clean trip.

The first race was supposed to be on the turf, going 5F. Course it rained out and the race was moved onto the main track. Coming out of the gate, our girl got body slammed real hard from both sides and almost went down. In a 5F race, there isn't much you can do to make up ground.
There went her chances.

Second time, she broke well, ran well for about 2F and sort of backed off and quit. Jockey said she went "flat".
On the way back to the barn, she was coughing an awful lot. Vet scoped her and it turns out we have the luck of the Non-Irish. A clump of mud found its way into her nostril and all the way down into her lungs. No wonder she quit. Poor girl.

Third and much anticipated race for her- a Non-winners of 3 lifetime, fillies 3 and up, Claiming 15k going 6.5F. Perfect set up for her. This is where she can win.
It thundered so hard with such rain, the backside of Churchill flooded in places. Power went out completely. We weren't sure there would be a race at all.
Slop again- and slop is putting it mildly.
She breaks well, is in contention, running 4th. Starts gaining and lies 3rd. All of a sudden, she starts backing up again. She settles down, comes back on and beats one horse, fair and square.

Erin, our jockey tells me she felt like she perhaps took a bad step and was discouraged.

On the way back to the barn, she's coughing again. Not quite as bad as the last race, but still bad enough. Her mouth is full of mud and sand, as are her eyes and face.
Simply put, the girl doesn't like mud in her face.

While I bathe her, I get some of that sandy mud in my eye. It burns like pepper.
I don't know what's in that track surface but I can only imagine what it must feel like to have both your eyes burning on fire when you're supposed to run in a race and still see what's in front of you. I would have backed up, too.

Today, we're the second longest shot on the board. This is what happens when a horse doesn't perform well in public view- the odds get longer and longer each time a race doesn't "go well".
A friend of mine is the groom for the longest shot.

A small aside here:
Yesterday, I was pulling Doodle's mane. When I finished, I went and got the clippers to clip his bridle path. As soon as I plugged them in and turned them on, Loopy's head comes shooting out of her stall. She's looking at me and nodding her head, then pawing and pawing. I think to myself, what a weirdo- she wants to be clipped, too!

Soooooo.... when I finish clipping Doodle's bridle path, I take a bucket, set it in front of Loopy's stall, climb on and sure enough- she lowers her head just enough so I can clip that bridle path. I didn't tie her, hold her or put a lead on her.
Between the way she acted when she first arrived from the farm and was body clipped and this, I am 100% convinced that she utterly enjoys being clipped.
Where other horses run off at the sound of clippers, Loopy nickers and neighs and demands, with both front feet, to be given the opportunity at having her own clipping experience.

Now tell me that's normal horse behavior!?

In any case, armed with her brand new bridle clip, which now really makes her look like a Trojan War Horse, since the rest of her mane still sticks up like a Mohawk, she goes off at (are ya sitting down?) 76-1 odds.

76-1!!!! Who are these handicappers? What kind of weirdos are in charge of picking the odds, morning line? Morning line odds on her were 20-1. My friend Milton's horse was 30-1.
By the time the horses are heading to the gate, the odds are slowly but surely increasing on both of our fillies. Milton's filly goes off at 92-1.

Since Loopy told me last night that she was going to beat the dickens out of all those other nags in her race, I fully expected her to perform well. I was honestly convinced that she would be able to win this race.

And boy, did she try!!!!! She broke well and went to the front. She set all the fractions and was still in front coming into the stretch. A group of 4 fillies were coming on and while Loopy started tiring and falling back a good bit, Erin asked her to find another gear- just a tiny notch up and she dug back in. She was passed coming to the wire in the last few yards and absolutely had run her heart out and emptied that gas tank. I thought she may have gotten 4th, but ended up 5th by a neck. Overall, she ran a super race and was only a total of 4 lengths from the winner.

She was mighty mighty proud of herself, as was I and Erin was so pleased with her.

The distance was probably a bit far for the pace she set but she ran one heckuva race and came out of it without a single cough, no dirt in her face.
The fact that the weather was blistering hot and inhumanly humid and she was still able to perform at such a rate- I can't begin to tell you guys how very very happy I am with this girl!

She cooled out well and here is another thing I haven't mentioned about her before: Loopy is a water horse. She LOVES playing with water. She loves water on her face. She tries to play with the hose every day at bath time.

So, while I had no help bathing her, I was able to take a photo of her putting her face right under the stream of water.

Her race information for those of you who would like to see the replay is:
Churchill Downs
June 27, 2009
Race 5
Horse/Post position 9 (Turquoise saddle towel and she is wearing red and black blinkers)

The race is available for viewing, free of charge at Churchilldowns.com (you just have to create a free account, no strings attached) and then follow the video link across the top of the inner frame.

Once the replay is available on youtube, I will edit this post and embed the video itself below.

I hope you guys enjoy her exciting performance in this race as much as I did!

If the Shoe (doesn't) Fit

2009-06-23T08:53:00.000-07:00

A couple of months ago, I finally broke down and decided to put shoes on Doodle.

He was going well barefoot, mind you, with a little problem here and there. After a year of hemming and hawing, I thought, ok, let's give this a try.

Doodle getting one of his foot rubs in the morning

You might ask why do this if the horse is going well.

Couple of reasons. Doodle's feet are high maintenance. He bruises easily around the toes. He tends to get heel sore if he's not completely balanced, which tends to happen after a few weeks of training following his trim.

On the fateful day of shoeing, Doodle acts like an ass. Mr. Laid-back and Happy is giving us a hard time. Well, let's get this over with so we can move on and get racing. Right?

Wrong!

The moment the shoes are on, the horse goes DEAD LAME.

A few days later, he seems better. There might be an adjustment period.

He never comes back out of it.

Change shoes. Pads. A slight improvement.

2 weeks later, again he is DEAD LAME.

In the meantime, I've moved to the Churchill Downs Training Center (also called Spectrum or Trackside). Cindirelli has retired. Spicey has ankle issues. They're going home. Piranha, who finally had a work, comes back not so good on that bow.

I've held that boy's tendons together for going on a year. He's not going to hold up to racing.

I call his owner and tell her she needs to bring him home.

Down to 2 horses in the barn. Doodle and Loopy.

While Loopy has raced a couple of times, she's been in over her head. Every time I enter her for a race, the race doesn't go. The track calls and asks if I want to if her into a different race. The girl needs to run, so I agree.

Her last race was right up her alley. In the slop, no less, but still. She lies in contention, moving up the rail when her head bobs up and she starts backing off. Come back on strong and beats one horse fair and square with tons of fuel left to burn. A mile race would have gotten her 3rd place. The 6 1/2 furlongs got her 5th place. Cools down in 10 minutes, coughing, her face covered in mud. Her mouth is full of dirt in spite of the Figure Eight.

Second time she backed off like this. Both in muddy or sloppy conditions. Both times she comes back coughing- scope reveals a ton of dirt down her windpipe.

The girl doesn't like getting mud in the face.

Doodle in the meantime is full of energy and pissed about not training. I get a blacksmith to pull his shoes off. Send him to the track the next day. Different horse.

He's been going better and better each time I send him. In the meantime, Stephanie, my miracle hoof expert, has trimmed him back into balance. When she showed up, Doodle sighed and put his head on her chest.

We're back to barefoot with him and he feels like a million dollars.

The shoes set us back a good month or more, probably.

Prospects of making a race at Churchill with him have dwindled out completely at this point.

Ellis Park's meet is coming up but there are no races on the card for him there that I can see.

Maybe they'll write some extras.

Last year, I was pointing him to Kentucky Downs in September. It looks like that's where he's going to end up racing, after all.

There is a lesson to be learned here. One that I've learned a thousand times over from horses.

Follow your gut. Always follow your gut.

Because when you start listening to outside voices, or you think your inner voice may not be right, after all, well, that shoe might not fit.

Literally.

Doodle in the cold water therapy spa enjoying his treatment

And She Lived Happily Ever After....

2009-05-11T17:34:00.001-07:00

Cindirelli at Churchill Downs in the receiving barn awaiting her race

Once upon a time...
... there was a beautiful grey filly born in Florida. She was tall and gangly and there was great promise in her birth.
Her sire was a great horse named Capote. Her dam was a mare named Fundraising, whose sire was even more well known than Capote. His name was Black Tie Affair.
The meeting of these genes was no coincidence. The people who decided on creating this filly put great thought into her breeding.

The filly grew taller and bigger and went into race training. The man who bought her felt there was something not quite right with the way she was "going" and so, having a great many young horses in training, decided to cull her from his racing stock and put her into one of the great Thoroughbred Auctions in the country to sell as a broodmare prospect.

The sale was set up such that every horse was x-rayed and its health thus documented to prospective buyers. Even with whatever funny way of going the man saw, the filly's x-rays were completely clean.

She sold for very little money to another man, a man who would forever decide this filly's fate and soundness.

Two years after this auction, the filly had raced extensively but not well.
She broke her maiden in a $10,000 Claiming Race for maidens, after several tries at higher levels. This is not unusual and no one was probably the wiser....
Unless they were closely involved with the filly.

You see, she never got to train daily the way that other horses did. The new man, an old man set in old not so good race-track ways realized that something was not quite right with the way she was going. So instead of training her on the racetrack, he decided that she would swim twice a week.

While swimming is a great way to rehab a horse, it can't be used as a training tool exclusively. A horses' bones are only as dense as the exercise it is used to remodels them to be. Swimming does not strengthen bones. It helps muscles and soft tissue but not bones.

So, the grey filly swam twice a week and then would get to the track to either officially work or run in a race. She started having some problems.
Some serious problems.
After she won her maiden race, she really hurt herself. Between the months of June 2007 and May 2008, the grey filly broke her sesamoid bone in her right front leg.
During the same time frame, she also broke her knee in the same leg.

Yet she never had any time off from racing. Her record shows one race where she came in last by 105 lengths. Yet she raced again just two weeks later.
She was running for the cheapest tag there was- $4,000 claiming.
She didn't run very well anymore. The grey filly was broken.
And now she wasn't making money for the man anymore.

The man decided to take her home to his farm. He tossed her out into a great big pasture with 30 other horses. There was a pond in the pasture. The grass wasn't growing very well and there were lots of weeds. But the stupid man thought:

"That's ok, there is green stuff out there, they can eat that".

But they couldn't. Quickly, the grey filly lost weight.

A girl who trades and sells horses in the same neighborhood arranged to become the man's agent to sell his horses, who were becoming skinnier by the day. He wouldn't give them feed, hay, or water.
"They ain't making no money for me, so I ain't puttin' no money in them."

Across the country in a far away state was a nice lady who had lots of race horses. She was always looking out for new horses to add to her broodmare band. She always loved Capote.

The nice lady saw an ad on the internet for some horses for sale and that they were in trouble because the man who owned them couldn't take care of them anymore.
The grey filly was listed as one of the ones for sale. They wanted $4,500 for her.
There was a photo of the grey filly and she looked a bit skinny, but she was walking away from the camera so the viewer didn't really have a good angle to get a good look.
The nice lady called her trainer in Kentucky and said:
"Look, what do you think of this filly?"
The trainer didn't think much of the filly and told the owner that probably the filly had talent but probably she had bad training or maybe an injury.

But the agent girl told the nice lady that the filly had just raced two months before and was completely racing sound. She was just a little underweight, maybe 100-150 lbs.

The nice lady couldn't get the filly out of her head. She went back and forth with her trainer and some of her friends. Her friends all told her not to buy the filly.
But she just couldn't forget about the filly.

So she and her trainer went back and forth with the agent girl and negotiated her price down to $2,500.
They arranged for the filly to be moved to the agent girl's farm. She was going to await a transport to take her up to Kentucky.

When the trainer was able to find a van ride for the filly at a fair price, she called the agent girl and asked that the filly be readied to put on the van. The agent girl acted very upset that the filly was leaving so soon.
"What's the big hurry all of a sudden?" she asked.

Thinking nothing of it, the trainer arranged everything for the nice lady's new filly to arrive early one Saturday morning.

You have all read "A Cindirelli Story".
Above is the beginning of her fairy tale.

This is the ending.

The filly was feeling so much better since she had been with the trainer. The wanted to run. She wanted to run every day, all day. She could run really well when she was pretending she was in a race. Her crippled knee and ankle didn't hurt her when she was pretending she was racing.
She would look over at the track and her mind and thoughts would float far far away. She would stand and stare until the trainer would make her move on to another spot.
She was in good shape. She was fit. It was time for her to race and she knew it.

Her trainer and the nice lady decided the filly should run on the turf. After all, she was bred for the turf. They found her a race at the historic race track Churchill Downs. This was where she should have been all along. This was where she belonged, with all the other great horses and all the history of famous races. Her heart was bigger than any other horses' heart that ever saw a race track. She just wanted to run.

The day came for the filly's big race.
This race was a bigger race than any she had ever been in.
It was still a claiming race but it was a $50,000 claiming race. At Churchill Downs! On the turf.
Everyone thought that the trainer and the nice lady were crazy to put the filly in this race.

The day and night before the race, it rained and stormed so hard, that the last 3 races at Churchill Downs were canceled due to weather. The trainer wondered if the race would remain on the turf the next day.

Early that next morning the trainer found out that the race was off the turf. They would be running on the main track, the dirt.

The trainer worried that the filly wouldn't run well on the dirt. But the filly wanted to run.
So the trainer told the jockey that he should take good care of her. Don't let her do something she doesn't want to do. Just let her run and finish her race. Because the trainer and the nice lady both knew that no matter what happened, the filly had to finish her race or she would never have peace.

The jockey promised to take great care of the filly.
As the filly was prancing around the paddock, excitement and joy filled the air around her. She was the 50-1 morning line long shot. But everyone could see how great she was feeling. She had to be saddled on the walk because she wouldn't keep still in the paddock stall.
She was ready. She was going to show the world how much she loved racing. And people could tell. Her odds went down to 5-1.

As the jockey rode her out of the tunnel onto the race track, the trainer gave her last instructions to him:
"Safe and Sound!"
The jockey smiled, reached down and touched the trainer's hand and said:
"No worries!"
(With his British accent, it sounded very official and reassuring.)

They went to the gate. The filly was horse #4.
The gates opened. She didn't break too well.

She was running against some very expensive and classy fillies.
By the first quarter, the filly had gone to the front. She remained there through half the race. Then she started backing off and slowing down.
She didn't quit. She finished her race. She showed those other fillies and the rest of the world how much faster she was.

She ran 4th.

Everyone was very proud of the filly. The nice lady was overjoyed. The filly just ran in the toughest race of her life and came in 4th.
4th place actually pays a part of the purse to the horse- 5%.
The purse on the race was $41,000.

Later on that evening, the nice lady and the trainer agreed that it was time for the filly to retire. They both knew she had to run this last race or she would never find peace.
And so she did.

And in her own way, she won. She walked with her head held high, looking down at the rest of the much shorter than herself world and proudly strutted as if to say:
"YOU cannot tell me I cannot run."

The filly is now going to get bred and go to her new home with the nice lady out in California,

where she will live happily ever after.....

Just between us... no one has to know it was only a 4 horse field due to 3 scratches ;o)

Some Spice in the Mix

2009-05-11T16:52:00.000-07:00

Spicey had a good first race.

Course the events of the morning leading up to the race weren't so good.

Little Miss Spice had to get her lip tattoo. I really don't like doing this on raceday but we didn't have much choice. I figured she would either act like it's no big deal or she would really hate it.

Well, she tried to kill the tattoo guy, me and Bull (hotwalker that helps me out sometimes during races). She wasn't having it. She threw me into the wall three times while I still had the lip tongs attached to her lip. We had to do one number at a time and keep telling her good girl, good girl. In the end, the last number didn't get to be stamped twice and the poor tattoo man looked at me and said: Good enough! I'm done!

Having her lip checked in the paddock for the race was quite fun again, ugh!

She was a good girl for everything else, her nonchalant self.

Below is the video of her race. She is post position 2- the second horse from the rail. Her saddle towel is white with a black number 2.

Dean (jockey) was very pleased with her. She ran 6th.
Here is his report:
(Insert British accent here, so it sounds that much more impressive)
"She is brilliant at the gate! Absolutely brilliant! Matter of fact, she was almost too relaxed. When the gate opened, she went to jump and then hesitated. She saw the other horses go and took off to go after them.
She didn't like the track conditions (which I knew she wouldn't, it was nothing but water and slop on that track) and had a time trying to find her footing.
Once she settled she started coming on pretty strong and I really thought she would run 3rd or 4th at least.
But when we came out of the turn, she hit a wall and got really really tired.
I didn't see a point in beating the shit out of her so I just let her gallop out.
One of the horses behind us was coming up to pass us at the wire but she stuck her little nose out and wouldn't get passed.

She'll do well next time!"

The track was very nasty that day. When I was watching the tractors trying to seal the track, all they were doing was moving around waves of water. It was horrible. Spicey likes a firm, more flat track. We didn't get what we ideally would have wanted that day.

But she came out of the race great, ate her feed with her usual shovel method (she opens her mouth wide, digs into the tub and chomps down. She doesn't eat feed with her lips the way other horses do).

She's full of herself and ready to try again next week if I can find a race for her.

It's always quite an accomplishment when first time starters have a good first race experience. The knowledge they gain is invaluable to help them next time out.

We were all very pleased with her.

The "wall" that Dean was referring to is quite common when you train at a smaller track and ship in to a large track. We have a 1/2 mile track at the training center. Churchill Downs is a 1 mile track. That stretch to the finish line coming out of that turn can absolutely kill a horse's air when it isn't used to it. Now that she's overcome that first race, she'll be much better able to make it through her next one.

The Spice Meister is officially a racehorse!

Spicey in the receiving barn waiting for her race

Racing on Wednesday

2009-04-30T19:29:00.000-07:00

Spicey got in! Here is our entry:

Churchill Downs - May 6th, 2009 - Race 4 Estimated Local Post Time: 2:21 PM
Race Type: Maiden Claiming Breed: Thoroughbred Age Restriction: Three Year Old and Upward Sex: Fillies and Mares				Purse: $14,000 Distance: Six Furlongs Surface: Dirt
Post	Horse Name	Age	Sex	Weight	Jockey Name	Claiming Price
1	Morning Magic (KY)	3	Filly	118	Julien R. Leparoux	$15,000
2	Spice So Nice (KY)	3	Filly	118	Dean Mernagh	$15,000
3	Emily D. (KY)	4	Filly	124	Larry J. Sterling, Jr.	$15,000
4	Betty de Boop (NY)	3	Filly	118	Aldo Canchano	$15,000
5	Five Star Sweetie (KY)	3	Filly	118	Corey J. Lanerie	$15,000
6	Riviera Cafe (KY)	4	Filly	124	Jon Kenton Court	$15,000
7	Silie (KY)	4	Filly	122	Miguel Mena	$12,500
8	Yankee Player (KY)	3	Filly	118	Jamie Theriot	$15,000
9	Eye of the Tigress (KY)	3	Filly	118	Jesus Lopez Castanon	$15,000

Gate Madness

2009-04-29T16:46:00.001-07:00

Moments out of sitcoms seem to happen regularly at our training center.

Spicey was going back today, for what I was hoping was going to be her gate approval card.

I arranged yesterday with yet another trainer to meet up there, our two horses both breaking from the gate. Bobby had a big grey colt who was going for his gate card. I wasn't worried about Spicey not doing well this time. If I've learned one thing about this little girl is that all it takes is one time to show her what to do and she gets it.

While I'm getting Spicey ready, she is being her usual impatient self while tacking up. She is always so enthusiastic about going to the track, it really makes me smile.

So by the time Cowboy arrives and tells me we have to wait a few minutes because the tractor is still cutting the track, I'm thinking, oh great- now I get to walk Miss Nutty around the shedrow when all she's interested in is going to the track and going fast fast fast!

Finally give Cowboy a leg up on her and jump in my truck to drive up there to the gate.

When I get there, Bobby wants to know how she is about getting in the gate. I shrugged and told him she's fine. Heck, nothing fazes her- she just walks right in there without being led by anyone, complete nonchalance surrounding her aura and attitude. It's as if she wants to say- Dude, I was born for this. I know what I'm doing.

Bobby's horse isn't quite as amenable to the whole thing and Bobby has to lead and urge him, while Rick, his rider and our "gate master" (the guy who is actually trained as a starter- one of those guys who load the horses into the gate at the track) is on the horse, having to kick him forward. The horse is decked out in blinkers, extra bridle stuff (a Figure Eight) and who knows what else.
Mind you, these two already warmed up a mile or better before we started loading them.

Since Spicey blows the turns at our track, we take the outside. Bobby's horse is supposed to go on and work a half mile. We weren't actually going to work today, because Spicey has been doing spurts of speed all week practicing this. On the off chance that she may not get approved for her card today, I wanted to be able to come back with her tomorrow and then do the official work, breaking from the gate and going 5/8.

So, once Bobby's horse, who is a nervous nellie at this point, is in the gate, Spicey walks in (without any help from me, just Cowboy asking her to go in).
I get behind the horses and close the gate doors.
Bobby wanted me to spring the gate open on the count of three.
He is now perched inside the gate, up on the wall next to his horse's neck.
Cowboy turns to me and says "You know, you should probably smack her on the ass when the gate opens just in case she didn't get it from yesterday."

Well, the pulley string to open the gate is on the left of Bobby's horse. Spicey is loaded in the hole to the horse's right. My arms aren't long enough to reach over and smack any ass, let alone Spicey's, if I'm to be opening the gate!

So, after some hemming and hawing, I tell Cowboy to just do his Cowboy thing and Yeehaw at her real loud once the gate opens.

Rick is now laughing and tells Bobby "Damn, man, you can open the gate, get back there, so she can smack her horse's ass!"

Bobby leans back towards Rick:
" No, I can't! I'm trying to teach my horse something here."
"What the fuck are you talking about? The horse is in the gate, he knows how to break, I'll get him out, get back there and open the gate!"

"No, man, I'm telling you, I gotta teach my horse this thing I do. I gotta talk to him about it first!"

At this point, both Cowboy and Rick are looking at Bobby like he's lost his mind.

"I gotta let him know when I do this thing with my finger on his neck that the gate is about to spring open. This is important, man!"

I'm standing behind this charade laughing along because Bobby has this very intent and serious look about him like he is imparting a great Chinese Wisdom on his horse, who is actually so busy being nervous, he ain't paying a flick of attention to Bobby.

Bobby turns to me and says, "Ok, on the count of three, you open the gate."

Now let me back up a little bit here. When he first told me to open the gate, I had never done it before on this gate. Different gates open with varied strength on the pull string.
I asked him how hard to pull? He told me to pull it nice and firmly but that it isn't too too hard to open.
So at that point I'm thinking, great. It's probably a sunumabitch to open and I'll screw it up and the gates won't open.

So, when Bobby tells me to open the gate on the count of three, I reach up to put my hand on the string (which is actually wire with a loop at the end).

He then turns back to whisper in his horse's ear again. The poor thing at this point isn't just lathered up, but he is probably wondering why some bizarre ethereal mantra is being wormed into his brain via his left ear and why his rider and the other horse's rider are both laughing so hard, they are holding their sides at this point.

As I get my hand situated, Bobby says "Almost ready. I'm about to...."

He never got to finish the sentence. In my worry to make sure I would have my hand in the right position to comfortably be able to pull on the wire without hurting my already cut finger, I put my fingertip into the loop.
That's all it took.

WHAM!

The gates fly open!

Bobby is suspended on his perch still in the position of whispering those sweet nothings into his horse's ear. Spicey breaks like a world champion. The grey breaks about the same time.
They go flying down the track, all I can see is two beautifully muscled horses' rears barreling away from me- and my little girl passing the much bigger grey horse!

"Oooops!"

"Damn, girl! I hadn't counted yet!"

I feel bad because obviously this was not how we planned to do it and I honestly didn't expect the damned gates to fly open so easily- I had barely hooked my finger into the loop!

I apologize to Bobby severely, all the while trying to swallow the belly-whopping laugh that is threatening to spring up out of my throat.
I leave Bobby standing there, muttering something about wanting to teach the horse that a fingertip applying pressure to his neck means the gates are about to open up.

Ooops.

Teehee. I jump into my truck and run back down to my barn.

Spicey comes back like none of this was any work for her. She's breathing well but her muscles along her topline aren't even bunched up. Physically, she is so fit, that what she just did was sissy stuff for her.

Anne and Don are standing on the other side grinning at me.
"You know that little filly can fly, don't you?"

"Yup, she sure can."

Cowboy tells me that she would easily have outworked the other horse.

We got our gate approval card! Tomorrow we take it easy. Saturday Spicey works her last work before her first race, which I am hoping will go. Entries are tomorrow for next week.

She'll be a pissed off energizer tomorrow not being allowed to run like all hell broke loose.

All part of becoming a racehorse. This filly is so ready for a race, she's going to burst if she doesn't get to run soon.

As I walk Spicey around the barn after her bath, I overhear Cowboy telling Anne and Don:
"Hey, did you guys know that Tres can't count?"

The laughter is stilling filling my ears.

Spicey and Cowboy posing for the camera while warming up this winter

We've Created A Monster!!!

2009-04-28T17:08:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't posted in a while and you are probably all wondering what happened with Cindirelli's race. I don't want to get into that too much at this point (there is a post coming up soon and no, it's not bad news!) but wanted to let you guys know that Cindirelli is fine, and awaiting her next race entry.

In the meantime, I've wanted to post about a little star athlete in my barn for a while.
Her name is Spice So Nice. She goes by Spicey. Or the Spice Meister. Or any amount of other rhyme-y nicknames.
Spicey was right at 14 hands when she arrived here as a 2 year old.
After some problems with unfortunately pre-existing baby injuries, Spicey is working hard on getting to her first race as a 3 year old this year.

She's grown a good hand since I got her in my barn. She's a little bombshell who can do no wrong when it comes to training. She's a complete professional who has already made up her mind that she is a racehorse, end of story, period.

Spicey is working hard everyday on getting her gate card. She's totally used to the gate but she hasn't worked from it until today.
Since I wanted to have her break from the gate for a "work" a couple of times before we get our card, I hooked up with another trainer from up the hill today to break from the gate in company. The other horse would do an actual work, Spicey would only go about 100 yards at work speed and then continue on her regular routine after stopping and turning.

I wish to God I had a real video camera. I laughed all day about this.

So we meet up at the gate - since Spicey is great about going in etc, I said I would head down the shute to the stretch and see Cowboy when he gets down there with her- gave me a much better vantage point- sort of like the head on view in a race replay.

They load. She's a super-pro about this. Nothing fazes her.

Gates open.

Other horse jumps out galloping.

Spicey kind of stands for a second.

Sees the other horse running full tilt.

Gets REALLY pissed off and goes after it.

Her little legs were going 90 mph according to Cowboy.

She wasn't having this! How dare that horse think it can outrun her!

She went after this horse with a vengeance. Cowboy had such a hard time pulling her up, she was pissed big time!

The most amazing part of it was that she actually closed that distance between herself and that horse - my jaw dropped.

She's gone in company plenty of times, I knew she'd probably really like going together. And she's always made sure that she keeps up with all those bigger horses. I just had no idea how competitive she REALLY is.

After she came back from the track, while I'm walking her, everytime we turn the corner and walk on the side of the barn facing the track, she was jigging, looking- would see a horse out there and the look on her face was:
"Oh, lemme go, lemme go, there is that SOB from earlier, I can catch him, lemme go!!!!"

After she had her bath, cooled down, I thought I'd take her to the grass. Oops, mistake. The track is right there. She was nuts wanting to go back to the track everytime she saw a horse out on it!

When I finally put her up and was getting ready to catch my next horse, everytime a horse walked past her stall, she was shoving her muscular little chest against the screen and jumping around as if she was saying- come on, let's race, you and me, buster!

We've created a monster!

I'm still smiling. I wish every one of my horses was this enthusiastic!

In the meantime, I took Doodle to the gate and literally had to get behind him and PUSH with both hands for him to want to break from it!
But he barely fit into that gate, too, he's so wide....

Spicey enjoying one of her naps this winter

Racin' Dirty!

2009-03-19T19:13:00.000-07:00

Here is a surprise for my blog readers:

Cindirelli is racing tomorrow at Turfway Park.

Here is the entry:

Turfway Park - March 20th, 2009 - Race 1
Estimated Local Post Time: 5:30 PM

Race Type: Claiming
Breed: Thoroughbred
Age Restriction: Three Year Old and Upward
Sex: Fillies and Mares

Purse: $7,600
Distance: One Mile
Surface: All Weather Track

Post

Horse
Jockey
Owner

Age

Sex

Weight
Trainer
Breeder

Odds

Claiming Price

Include the Lady (KY)

Alberto Pusac
Billy D. Allen, et al.

Filly

118
Billy D. Allen
Brereton C. Jones

5/2

$7,500

Runnin Dirty (FL)

Dean Mernagh
Shirley Ann Kimball

Mare

118
Tres J. Delaforce
Pennston Farms Inc.

15/1

$7,500

Drew'sgetleagle (KY)

Leandro R. Goncalves
DJC Stable (Rolanda Simpson)

Filly

118
Rolanda Simpson
John D. Murphy

3/1

$7,500

Lil Miss Blurr (KY)

Rodney A. Prescott
Mike Clark

Mare

118
Helmut S. Jackson
Equus Farm

10/1

$7,500

Chasing Liberty (IN)

Jose Luis Calo
Edward L. Roettinger

Mare

118
Danny D. Lang
Ron Dafler

7/2

$7,500

Hollywood Beauty (KY)

John McKee
Bernard G. Schaeffer

Filly

115
William R. Connelly
Benjamin W. Berger

2/1

$7,500

This is another one of those nerve wrecking moments for me- I won't get much sleep tonight, so I've already helped myself to plenty of Benadryl.

It's only a 6 horse field. This is a good thing. We drew the 2 hole, which is also a good thing because according to a little research the horse in the 1 hole never breaks well, giving our girl direct access to the rail. Cindirelli likes to go to the front - I know, I know, another one of those! But, we shall see how things go.
She is in great shape for a race. She's sound and ready.
She's actually so ready that since her last work on Monday, every time I tack her up to go to the track just to train, she gets so excited, she starts a-shaking and a-jumping, pressing against me, being impatient. Subsequently, on the track, she fights Cowboy all the way through her exercise with shaking her head, which he has a firm hold of, to try and get loose so she can run full tilt again (which she isn't supposed to).

I know once I hand her off to the pony heading to the gate, my usual mantra will probably pop back out of my mouth without my realizing it and it is my first and foremost concern, always:

"Safe and sound, safe and sound, safe and sound..."

If this girl still has the physical ability to race, she'll do very well.

We are, as usual, the long shot in the race.

Dean Mernagh - her jockey is a good jockey with riding experience in Hong Kong (or was it Japan?) and Dubai. He's been trying to get his foot in the door over here this year and I've been watching him. He listens to instructions and every time I have seen him on a horse, the horse performed better than expected.

Me? I'll be a nervous wreck, of course. Probably a good idea for me to take a 5th of vodka with me for calming purposes. No point in having her come in the winner's circle and the trainer is in the ambulance with a heart attack.

Race goes off at 5:30 pm EST, should be on either racing channel- HRTV or TVG.

Pray for us tonight- so our girl will have a safe and successful race.

May the racing gods be with us tomorrow.

Canta-Loopy

2009-03-11T17:02:00.000-07:00

I meant to post this days ago. But I was pooped.
The last few days have been bone wearing. The weather improved a great deal, we actually had a near record high of 80 degrees yesterday. Today we are back to a high in the 40's and the low tonight is freezing.

There are 7 (yes, seven) horses in my barn at this point. Only 5 of them are "mine". The other two belong to a friend who was in a bind and decided to deposit them next to my horses so that I could help him out. Helping out.. well, don't get me started. Food for another post.

Of the five I have, 1.5 are mine. Doodle, of course, is my boy. The other 0.5 is actually not REALLY half mine but the arrangement I have with her owner is a 50/50 split.

Loopy (Trickle Me Good) was turned out for a long sabbatical due to a stress fracture in her pelvis, which I, unfortunately, claimed her with from another trainer. Oh joy.

So Loopy went home to her new mom and dad for a while. She led the life of leisure.
Loopy came back last Thursday.

When I claimed this filly, she was a total nut. A sort of dangerous total nut. My brother in law, who gallops for me when he is in KY, had helped me out that day I claimed her. Since she was such a nut, after we got her bathed, walked and put away, he closed the stall door, shook his head and while walking away, mumbled "Loopy".

It stuck. Loopy she was from that moment on.

It didn't take much for the Loopster to realize she didn't have to be a nut around us. It only took a couple of weeks before she completely changed her ways. Just today, when I went to get her from the swing stall, I forgot to bring the shank or even a leadrope with me. I was too lazy to want to walk all the way back to the tackroom, so I thought, what the hell- I can just grab her by the halter and we should be fine.
And she was. Just fine. No fuss, no fight. She's a good girl.

Since Loopy arrived looking like a Yeti (she had close to 3 inch long fur on certain parts, the rest was a good inch plus), the first time I bathed her after she started back to training, it took forever to bathe her. After the bath I noticed she was covered in lice from head to toe.

Course this sent the shudders up and
down my spine and first thing I did was to call Shawn the clipper guy.
We set an appointment for Loopy to get a new coiffure.

In the meantime, we endured laughing comments like:
"Oh, look over there- that is one lousy horse!" (All meant in good fun and bringing us lots of laughs around the barn.)

While I'm inserting the photos of her Yeti look, it's hard to tell from those just how long her fur really was.

And, it really was FUR.

This is not a coat.

Far from it.

I don't think I have ever seen a horse with fur like this, and I have seen some serious long winter growth.

She looked more like a Bakshir Curly than a Thoroughbred!

Shawn ended up not having to tie her for most of the clip-

one look at the clippers and a big sigh escaped from Loopy- "Oh thank GAWD, yes, pleeeeeeeez do your thing to me!!!"

Since the lice where also intricately woven into her mane and I really cannot even fathom trying to control that highly contagious population with another 4 horses I intimately handle every day, I told Shawn to roach her mane, as well. Course, this means, she is going to have to race with a neck strap- no mane- nothing to grab for the jockey if he needs to. Not a very big deal, but these things do happen.

So, the nekked Loopster, who now looks like a huge chunk of very milky chocolate with sprinkles of very dark chocolate across parts of her body, is feeling a whole lot better and no longer having to sweat like a stuck pig when she goes to the track. Matter of fact, she hasn't sweat, not ONCE, even in training since the body clip.

Bringing a horse back into racing shape is fairly easy, especially when you have a horse that has already run in the not too far away past. Jogging. Lots and lots of jogging to begin with.
We started this girl back with 1.5 miles and after the coat came off, she has been jogging 2 miles daily. Tomorrow, she's going to bump up to 2.5 miles.

I had the privilege to photograph the Canta-Loopy yesterday on her way to the track. The photos are in sequence. See for yourself what she thought of that.......

"Ooooh, the track... how exciting......"

"I think I better get rid off some ......."

"...of this stuff ....... ummmmpphhhh...."

"....here we go, just a little more....."

"Tadaaaahhh! Look at that! Just for you. Did you get all that on camera?"

Never mind that Loopy looks more like a Roman Warrior Steed with that roached mane and close body clip. Classy? Yes! Too classy for poop slinging? Never!

Transmission Problems!

2009-03-06T05:39:00.000-08:00

The gears in a car aren't all that different from the gears in a racehorse.
You've got the lower gears, which are naturally slower. Then you've got the higher gears which, hopefully smoothly, accelerate speeds all the way through overdrive and double overdrive.

Cindirelli had her first official work yesterday (March 5, 2009).

Horse name	Runnin Dirty
Notes	Shirley
Activity type	Workout
Activity date	03-05-2009
Track	Glenwood Training Center
Surface	Dirt
Distance	3 Furlongs
Workout type	Breezing
Workout time	0:38.60
Track condition	Fast

With a fused ankle and plenty of opposite hoof support via wedge and raised shoes, I've attempted to help make her movements smoother and easier.

Did it work? I certainly hoped so. While her prior, at the time, untended, injuries have obvious forever effects that will always be visible, the thought and hope was that they would nonetheless not be a hindrance to her talents.

The Amazing Filly went out to the track for the first time since her arrival and rehab, to be allowed to go fast. Her own personal stretch of Autobahn awaited.

Armed with my stopwatch, I walked up to the track, frantically yelling at cowboy to tell me where we were starting off from and stopping. My heart was pounding with a ferocity I hadn't experienced since the first time I took a horse to the paddock for a race. In the back of my conscious mind, little voices were chanting not in tandem with what should have been a focus on only positive thinking. The ever present worry to keep my charges safe, in some instances, from themselves was overpowering in a way I didn't think was coherently possible at this point.

Don was out on the track harrowing the inside lanes. Being one of Cindirelli's biggest fans, this wonderful old gent has consistently been a witness to her progresses and triumphs.
The training center was pretty much deserted at this point, save for a handful of people in my close circle I consider everyday friends.

I walked up to the gap where Don had pulled the tractor, my throat dry and parched, my blood pressure surely going through the roof. While I looked up to the tractor's cab with Don seated inside, he simply smiled down on me and winked- a small but reassuring gesture, that still failed to calm the storm within my being.

My hands were shaking in the 60 degree late afternoon as I watched my "problem child" warm up with a jog and then a half mile gallop. She's not perfect. She has an awful way of going in certain instances.

Memories of Cowboy's comments over the last months coming back with her from the track and thundering on about the cripple she is, the arguments in contention never ending between us until I methodically proved to him my knowledge about her soundness, or lack thereof, was solid and correct, rushed through me.
The ugly, nagging voice of doubt that every human, no matter how positive, has within them reared its head and a terrifying thought that this work may make her or quite literally, break her, resulted in my near dizziness with fear for her safety.

No, it's not normal for most trainers to feel this way. But then, I'm not most trainers. If, God forbid, one of my horses were to ever break down on the track, I would undoubtedly be the fool human running through rails and masses of people to get to my charge- praying at a high pitched scream "God please let her be ok, please let her be ok".
The heart break involved with going through such a tragedy isn't something I ever want to have to confront or endure.

Cindirelli gallops her warm-up, obviously not liking staying on her right lead, she keeps switching back to the left. An anomaly, truly, considering that the way she feels on the left lead is hard and rough- it is, after all, her "funky" leg. One would think that it should be easier for her to be on her left lead. For reasons unknown and not to be understood through scientific reasoning, she insist on doing things her way- in this case, choosing to lead with the very limb that had been so very traumatized in several places in her past.

As she approaches the quarter pole, Cowboy asks her for speed.
Watching this process is quite entertaining- she perks up and immediately throws her ears back and forth. The expression is one of unsureness- are you asking I go faster? Really? Is this a trick?
For all this time, she was never asked for speed such as this to constitute a work. Far from it, she has tried on numerous occasions to run off and fly, all to no avail and much to her chagrine.

This is different. Really? Speed? He asks again.

The girl takes off like a bat out of hell. Her rear lowers and her front stretches- it's the proverbial greyhound hunching its back, reaching under itself to propel itself forward to catch the rail rabbit. It takes only a second for her to accelerate and once she is in stride- on the far side of the track, with the rail and infield obstructing my view to watch for gait fluidity, I think to myself- did I start the watch?? A quick glance confirms that, indeed, my finger hit that button and the clock is running.

Coming up on the far turn, Don and I both look like tennis spectators, our heads following her progress in unison and coming through that turn, I realize I am chanting breathlessly, my mouth dry and voice raspy, over and over and over, a steady and desperate mantra I hope shoots straight up to the heavenly gardens of the Man in Charge: "Safe and sound, safe and sound, safe and sound, safe and sound...."

The most amazingly smooth galloping horse is tearing around the turn now coming into the stretch - her fluidity of movement unrivalled by the majority of horses that frequent our training surface daily.

Who is this horse???? Is it possible? How can this be? There is not a single wrong step, not a single out of tune move, she glides over the deep ground as her body reminds of an aerodynamically designed missile, shooting forward ever faster and smoother. If there is a perfect synch to her existence, this moment is it. Gone are the worrisome unwieldy movements that intersperse her daily gallops and jogs, THIS is a different horse. THIS is a Goddess in her element. THIS is what she was meant to do and the Higher Powers saw fit to leave her with just this very talent, unimpeded, uninterrupted, fully intact and completely functional in a perfect string of fluidity and grace, THIS, her birthright.

I realize my mouth is open and I am still chanting, a croak now caused by the drying air into my lungs. I hit the stopwatch at 3F and glance down- 39 and change- a rock solid performace for our surface that has bullets at 38.

She gallops out to 5 furlongs, jogs down, turns around and jogs back with the same grace and fluidity evidenced in her work, her ears pricked, her head high and proud and even from this distance, I can see the utter happiness in her expression.

I look up at Don in the tractor's cab and his grin goes from ear to ear, the smile completely encompassing his face and the look in his eyes rivaling mine with pride and utter joy at having witnessed this amazing moment that lasted for less than 40 seconds, yet seemed to justify a lifetime.

"Oh, Honey, she looked amazing! She looked so good!" And he winks at me.

I run back to the barn to get ready her bath buckets and finish up her stall. I'm giddy with excitement and utterly stunned at what just transpired.

Moments later, I hear Cowboy riding back into the barn, quiet and not a song on lips (unheard of!). I blabber something incoherent, wanting to hear his response, his opinion, the final verdict from the guy I trust enough to put on my horses since I can no longer do the job myself.

"Holy Shit, girl. THIS is the BEST friggin horse in your barn!"

Is it Christmas? Was this my birthday? Am I going to awaken and this was just a dream?

Cindirelli is mighty proud of herself and as it turns out, now quite full of herself, as I walk her around the shedrow to cool her down. She drinks not a single drop of water. She is jumping around happily at the end of the shank, coming past horses in their stalls and showing off to each and every one. We come back around to Piranha, her stall neighbor, his head is out and he is nickering at her encouragingly. My horses are all watching and nickering at her when we pass by. They KNOW. They are proud. They are tickled and happy. This is their homegirl and she just experienced a personal triumph.
Doodle and Spicey are both wide eyed and nodding their heads at her. Nickering softly.
I suspect it translates into something like: You go gurl!

The Amazing Cindirelli did it again. She blew me away, once again, surprising me and showing me to trust her, always always trust her because she knows what she is capable of.

The reassurance when these occasions arise is utterly simple and hard core in its statement:
Trust me! Stop worrying! Hear what I'm saying- I am my own best judge.

Her words.

As I get her through her bath, it dawns on me:

Transmission problems.

Cindirelli has transmission problems. Her lower gears are grindy here and there and will never again be like new. But those higher gears and overdrives, by God, they work like they are factory warrantied.

Who would have thought that racehorses can be so much like cars?

Runnin Dirty- early Fall 2008

Hold it, Buster! You are under Arrest!

2009-02-14T19:42:00.000-08:00

Chilly day today. Chief Inspector Doodle of the Special Hay and Undercover Feed Task Force was very happy.... and busy!

Suspect (Trainer) Anne was cleaning out her van- she distributes the "Bargain Mart" magazine, those penny saver type publications.
She apparently also distributes pretty much everything else out of the back of that van- illegal substances, all, that had to be investigated carefully.

It was determined that Inspector Doodle did not need a search warrant as the vehicle was left open and unattended for more than an hour. Plain view exception and all.

Upon further investigation, it was determined by Inspector Doodle, that there was sufficient evidence present to take into custody-
first by careful examination through odor detection with special odor detection devices built right into his special police investigator horse nostrils.

Then the evidence was taken into temporary custody in the special Doodle sized jowls- notice the extra big cheeks he had built especially for the job.

It was later determined that there were illegal substances present, including but not limited to:

Alfalfa hay residue

Timothy hay

Straw

Sweet Feed crumbs and several handfuls of this illegal substance hidden beneath what appeared to be empty bags of it.

When the investigation had to be cut short due to the perpetrator's vehicle hurriedly driving off the premises, Inspector Doodle vowed to continue his investigation tomorrow upon the most likely return of the suspect with the incriminating vehicle.

In the meantime, if you should see a green, beat-up looking mini van with a distinctly loud engine, please refrain from approaching the driver. She may look harmless, but she is cunning and dangerous. She has an arsenal of devices to lure unsuspecting horses into the back of the van and convince them to do her bidding, which would most likely involve running at very high speeds in order to win large purse monies.

If you spot the suspect or the vehicle, please call 1-800-Doodle-THIS! right away.

Do not, under any circumstances attempt to apprehend the suspect on your own!

Enough to Make a Grown Man Cry......

2009-02-13T15:15:00.001-08:00

Friday the 13th. What month is this again? February I suppose.

My days run together. So much so that I generally yell at my daughter Friday nights to get her butt in bed because she better not be tardy to school in the morning. She steadfastly ignores me, which gets my goat, of course. By the time I stalk into her room to really yell at her, she simply turns to me and states: Mom! It's frickin Friday!

Oh. Ooops.

This day I will never forget.

Cindirelli.

While Cindirelli was coming along nicely as far as weight gain, we had some rather bizarre soundness issues to deal with. Soundness in the sense that they were gait related, but not actual lameness issues.

It all started with taking the girl to the track back when, in order to jog. She lost her mind completely. She got so worked up with excitement, it took three people to give a leg up to the rider, a lip chain, another shank and an average of 20 minutes to get her legged up, out to the track and then off the shank.
Then, we would all line up along the rail to watch the circus performance. Cindirelli could do everything from bucking, to trying to run off, getting rid off the rider, side passing at ALL gaits, and believe it or not, galloping backwards. Yup, you read that right.

She had never been trained on the track. She only ever saw the track when it was either time for an official work, or a race. To her, going up to the track meant excitement! Racing! Running as fast as you can!
Now imagine getting that out of her.

To begin with, she was major ouchy on her LF hoof. Her ankle on the RF is fused and set. This means it is less flexible in how the fetlock can move below when weight is put on that leg.
Now, couple these two things and what you are looking at is a horse who, while jogging, looks like a pacer.
In harness racing, when horses are pacing to warm up, they sort of tilt side to side.
Well, that's what Cindirelli would do.
She never had any swelling or heat in any of her joints or tendons, so she isn't straining to do the work or in pain.

Another problem she has had that's just been such a major mystery is the fact that when you are watching her out there, you could literally draw a line through her middle, cutting her in half, separating the two parts and realize that the front of this horse does not move the same way the back end does. She was like two separate entities put together, both doing their own thing.
While it felt like she was perhaps cross-firing, in reality she wasn't. She just wasn't moving in tandem.

99% of the time, she was holding her head way up there, sometimes cocked sideways, most times fighting the bit to the point that you'd wonder if she knew there was anything else going on around her AT ALL.

There were so many separate weird things going on with her that couldn't be explained by previous injuries (apart from the fused ankle and the broken down LF hoof). Some days, Cowboy would come back and tell me:
"She's a cripple! She can't move right! I can't put my finger on it exactly but it's got to be that [rf] leg."

I was convinced that wasn't the case. All I ever saw with that front end issue was the hoof. We argued countless times. We had screaming matches about this.

"It's her friggin broken knee and ankle, it's gotta be!"

"No, I am telling you, it's her opposite hoof!"

"Bullshit, you can't tell me that hoof is causing all that, she's a cripple!"

"Don't you dare ever say that in front of her again where she can hear you! And it's not her knee or her ankle, it's her hoof!"

He's threatened to not take her to the track. I've threatened to fire him and put someone else on my horses.

When Stephanie made some rather radical changes to Cindirelli's LF hoof, I was really looking forward to seeing the results the next day at the track.
Cowboy almost had an aneurysm when I told him she is going to the track on that particularly nasty day- sloppy surface and uneven.

"You don't want to take HER out there today."

"Oh, yes I do, I REALLY want to take her out there today. I REALLY REALLY want to take her out there today. And if you don't want to, I'll find someone else who will."

So off to the track she went.

Amazingly enough, all Cowboy could say when he came back with her was:
"I'll be damned. Guess you were right. Musta been the hoof."

I'm always right about the hooves. Period. I don't know why people don't realize that. Tsk.

So we progressed into regular training. Although the hoof issues had improved, a problem now was that she was extremely uneven in the front. Her RF hoof is upright and clubby. Her LF hoof was underslung, long in the toe and pretty much broken down to the point that it was a good half inch shorter in height than the RF. Uneven.

The only way to fix that without waiting another 6 months to a year to restore that hoof, was to put shoes on her.

Now I have a blacksmith who comes out to the training center, who is very good at what he does. I have never seen him cause a problem on a horse by doing a bad shoeing job.
I called him up and explained what I thought she needed- padding or an elevated wedge shoe on the LF, a regular one of the RF.

It took us almost 2 hours to get that shoeing job right on her but he did it. I have to say I was very impressed with the fact that he actually made a point of trimming and measuring both feet before he ever attempted to put anything on her shoe-wise.

So Cindirelli now has brand-new shoes and it has made another big difference in her movement.

But that rear end still had a mind of its own. Her head was still up on the 14th floor, cocking sideways, jerking at the bit, mouth wide open, teeth bared.

I was talking to a friend of mine a few weeks ago who is a trainer down in the southwest and who gets nothing but EPM horses, treats them, restores them back to health and wins races with them. According to Lynn, EPM is not just the regular weird stuff. She is convinced, and has evidence in her own barn, of horses that have bizarre things wrong with them, that nothing else seems to explain just all by itself. Separately, those symptoms could be explained away by different ailments. Not altogether.

Seeing how I was not convinced that EPM was actually a factor and I certainly was not going to talk dear owner into spending upwards of $800 on a drug like Marquis, that may or may not show us results, I went on the internet and starting looking for alternative treatments for EPM.

I ran across a post a woman had put up on a message board where she, through her own research, had come up with a mixture of herbs that seemed to have worked absolute wonders on her gelding who had been diagnosed with EPM and who now was completely recovered.

I went to the website of the company who sells the herbs. Prices weren't outrageous but I was operating within a budget- my own: The deal I made with her owner was that I would like to try some herbs. If they do not work, I will not bill her for them.
If they do work, I'll add them on a later bill.

To begin with, the list of herbs this woman had made her concoction out of was lengthy. The price would have been around $200. Not happening.

Since this wonderful website had all the herbs listed with their own data sheets - pretty impressively put together, along with research citations- I went on a quest to find the one herb on that list that I thought would give me the fastest and surest results, if in fact, Cindirelli had EPM.

Right before the bad temperature drop and snow hit us, I put her on a wean-on dose of the herb, in her nightly feed. After investigating the fragrant new aroma, she went right to work and ate it all up.
When the weather hit us, I had Cindi up to a regular dose of the herb nightly. We were stuck without any kind of training for 3 days. On the 4th day, I was able to shedrow the horses (ride them at a jog in the shedrow).

It was immediately apparent that there was a change in Cindirelli's jog. It had improved.
Not only that, but she was calmer. She wouldn't just try to run out of her stall like it was a starting gate when you went to take her out. She wouldn't just go completely kooky in the shedrow at a hand walk where not even a lip chain made it possible to hold her.

She jogged like.... a normal horse. She was happy, alert, in a good mood but not nutty. Her brain seemed to be functioning in a more focused, intended kind of manner.

After 2 days of this, she popped up with that huge haematoma. In order to be on ANY other drugs and for those drugs to be able to metabolize in the liver and then go to work, she had to be off the herb. This particular herb (by the name of Fedegoso) is also a potent detox agent.

Off the herb, on the antibiotic.

A week passed. She deteriorated. Her behavior declined a bit but not completely back to the fruitcake she so regularly was before. Her jog declined, not by very much but more importantly, her rear end was still doing it's weird cross-firing but not cross-firing.

At this point, having seen that there was an obvious effect from the herb, I reported back to Lynn my findings and the quick timeframe in which they showed up.
That night, I went online and ordered another 2 herbs, one a very potent anti-protozoal, anti-parasitic, anti-cancer, anti-viral and anti-microbial.

The haematoma was still there but I felt given time it would absorb anyhow, whether she was on antiobiotics or not. I took her off the antibiotics and put her on all three herbs.

This was 2 days ago.

Two days ago, the horse I sent to the track still had two separate parts to it- two distinct entities front and rear. Her head, even with an elevator bit was up in the sky, her neck wasn't cocked funny any longer but she was fighting the bit every step of the way, trying to still run off, doing her version of cross-firing.

Yesterday, my friend Gilberto got on her because Cowboy had to pick up his daughter.
I gave Gilberto a brief recap of her history as it pertained to her training. Told him that I also thought that she may dislike certain things the way Cowboy does them. I told him how Cowboy told me just a few weeks ago that if I entered her for a race, the way she was going, her rider would scratch her from the gates or the post parade.

Gave him a leg up. No elevator bit, just a regular snaffle, which I had used on her in the past, along with a million other bits I've tried.

Cindirelli went out to the track calmly. She jogged in a relaxed manner, with just the right amount of "go".

Gilberto has very quiet hands. He's a very quiet rider. He can just sit up there on a horse and make what he does look so unbelievably effortless.
He went to gallop her and although there was just a tiny bit of complaining, she went rather well. Better than before.

When he came back with her, he told me that he didn't think she was all that bad and that whatever it was that was going on "back there"- she seems to sort of work out of.

Don, who maintains our track and has his horses next to mine, came back over to the shedrow and said he saw her out there and she looked better than she had ever looked out there.
I agreed but thought, well, am I firing Cowboy off this horse?

Some riders get along with certain horses, others don't. Cowboy is tall and long-legged. While he is an excellent exercise rider with a ton of experience, he sits very far back in the saddle and some horses have problems with this.

When I left the barn last night, I wasn't sure what I was going to do about the rider situation today.

Turns out, nothing was the best decision I could have made.

Cindirelli was in a super mood today. For the first time, she ate every little bit of hay I gave her last night and this morning. There was no feed left in her tub (some mornings, she would leave a handful, others a little more).

I tossed her a jolly ball when she was in the swing stall while I cleaned hers. She went to town with it. The ball came flying out of the stall on several occasions. She had a soccer match in there.

Got her ready for the track and while tied to the wall, she kicked the stall door repeatedly, HARD, trying to make a point that she had no patience for this and wanted to go to the track.

Legged Cowboy up on her, with just the same snaffle.

She jigged on her way up out of the barn to the track. She calmly walked onto the track. She started jogging so nicely, my jaw dropped and hit the grass I was standing on.
I had told Cowboy to sort of let her do her thing. If she wanted her head more, give it to her. If she wanted to gallop faster, let her. Just don't two minute lick her or get her to a work speed.

What happened out there next hit me with such force, right in the gut, I had tears in my eyes.

This girl galloped with her head and neck collected. She never once fought the bit. She went for a mile and a half and never once tried to run away. She went out there and the horse I sent out of the barn was exchanged for an entirely different horse.
My mouth was literally open from the time she started until she came back.

When Cowboy rode her back into the barn and saw me, he turned very serious.
"Come on, it's not that bad, is it?"

I was crying. I couldn't help it. I was so touched by what I had just witnessed out there.
This wonderful, wonderful filly was back to being herself.

"She damned sure would not have gotten scratched today", was all he said as he took her tack away.

Before he left, while I was walking Ms. Calmness herself around the shedrow, he stuck his head around the corner:

"She's not even doing that funny cross-firing but not cross-firing thing.
Whatever you are giving her, it's working miracles."

And gone he was.

Cindirelli and I had a good talk about how proud I was of her and what an amazing girl she is. Each time I looked over at her and she would rub against me, or take a tiny corner of my shirt in her mouth to tug on, or put her head on my shoulder, bump me here or there, I just wanted to cry.

Someone asked me a week or so ago in one of those 30-questions-about-you emails when the last time was I cried.
Hell, I couldn't honestly remember. A few months ago watching a movie, probably. Honestly, not sure. I just don't generally cry. Period.
I'm much too busy working, enjoying my life, having good days than to get myself worked up in anything to such an extent that I will cry about it.

Apparently, there are still things that can make me cry at the drop of a hat.

Like this filly and the road she took coming here, her journey to recovery and the difference in the horse she was even just a few weeks ago, with the complete..... I don't know what to call it!.... change she has gone through just in the last few days and is going to continue going through.

Her real name is Runnin Dirty.

Her daddy is Capote.

Her dam is Fundraising by Black Tie Affair (IRE).

She stands right at 17 hands.

She weighs around 1100 lbs.

She has no patience.

She has rotten habits.

She misbehaves more often than she behaves.

She'll walk right over you to get to where she wants to go.

And she brought me to my knees today just by showing me the trust she placed in me, the faith I had in her in return, my misgivings of listening to conventional vets (save one) and the road we took together so far- all those things, they were meant, and somehow, she knew it.

Providence.

Enough to make a grown (wo)man cry.

Enough Already!

2009-02-05T19:24:00.000-08:00

The great state of Kentucky has once again been through the wringer, weather-wise, that is.

I have lived in many different states and I have to tell you guys, never have I lived in one with such a sad excuse for local government, that at the same time taxes the living daylights out of its county residents. The officials are so obviously inept and most probably more interested in filling their own pockets, coupled with a "holier than thou" attitude, which shines brightly in their continued anti-smoking campaigns (helloooooooo- this is Kentucky- tobacco being one of the major crops grown here- so, can we say DUMB???)

Each time there is inclement weather, and granted the weather people are pretty much paid to lie, or best case scenario, guesstimate, one would think that when there is a freeze warning, this city would get up off its rather large and lazy arse and at least put some salt on those roads.

I could go on and on about the ineptitude and inefficiencies, let alone idiocies that take place here on a daily basis, but that's not what I'm writing this post for.

I'm writing because I am SICK AND FRIGGIN TIRED OF THIS WEATHER!!!!!!!

My horses are going nuts. The track is closed. The track. Hmmmm. What track!!!??????
You can't even see the track. You'd never know there was a track if it wasn't for the damned rail around it!

The driveway around the farm is a layer of 3 inches of ice with a light dusting of snow still visible on top. You can't walk without balancing. Thank God the shedrow is covered by the barn roof or that would be just as big a mess.

So my horses are nuts. Doodle is acting like a yearling. We're way past the two year old stage here.

Spicey had a really nice, really fast first work a couple of weeks ago. This experience has obviously put ideas in her head. She wants no part of pacing herself in any activity. She has been awakened. She looks over at the track with that faraway expression. She jumps, kicks and bucks every chance she gets.

Cindirelli has an abscess/haematoma on her stifle where she cast herself 2 weeks ago. The thing is as big as a cantaloupe. Vet friend of mine is going to lance it on Saturday. She's not in pain and it's not interfering with her gaits but just simple antibiotics and painting it has done nothing so far. It wants to come to a head but it's just taking an awfully long time. Better to take care of it now and be done with it. I took these photos with my phone today. You have to strain a bit to see but the "thing" is precisely on her right stifle.

And here is a "head on" view from the front, under her belly:

Isn't that pleasant?

Nana, the ever nutty ADHD child (gelding) is, surprisingly, the only one who is behaving no different than he really is- a mouthy fruitcake who likes to screw with anyone in reach but you gotta love his consistency!

So my girls are just waiting for the track to re-open before we get more works in and finally make it to some races! I'm wishing really hard that the worst weather is over and done with.

I hope all you guys out there are having a better time than we are. 'Cept of course Carolyn maybe.... how was that -8 degree riding weather today, girlfriend?

Don't Touch My Horse!!!!!

2009-01-17T17:26:00.000-08:00

Pet peeve. Piss off. Major irk. Can of whup-ass ready to open. Teeth and claws extending.

Anyone with me here?

One of the no-nos around a racing barn- if you have no affiliation with a horse, don't frigging touch it. Unless the horse is running loose and needs catching, stay away. Not a hand, finger, nothing.

That said, let me tell a little story that happened today.

I took the Doodle up to the arena to turn him out this afternoon after my hay run.
We'd already trained and everyone was done. I asked the last exercise rider I saw and he told me, everyone is finished. No one is using the arena.

So I sweet talk Doodle into behaving himself, all the way up the hill to the arena.

Turn him out, let him go. I watch him do caprioles, unofficial mini-works, he runs some poles like a champ (there are beams in the center of the arena). He bucks, he kicks, he runs, he has fun.
After witnessing the biggest steam being let off, I tell him:

"Have fun, don't hurt yourself, I'll be back!"

I turn all the horses out at least once a week. I do it for obvious reasons- they're not meant to live in stalls 24/7. Unfortunately, we have no turn out paddocks or pastures. So the arena gets to double as my horses' turnout field.

Nice thing- it is well maintained and has great footing. Racehorses don't all behave as well as they should when turned out. Some of them will invariable hurt themselves.
This is a really nice, safe alternative and my guys all love it.

I go run my errands and go back up the hill to get Doodle.

When I walk in, the gate is wide open - my first thought is, oh shit! He escaped!

Once my eyes adjusted- I see Doodle in one of two temporary stalls off to the side. In the arena are two guys doing their idea of longeing a two year old.

They see me and one says:
"Hey, we took good care of your horse!"

I'm livid. Good care my ass!

"Oh did you now?"

"Yea, we were really careful when we moved him!"

"Not careful enough!"

Horse stops circling and the guy turns to me:

"What do you mean?"

I clear my throat, walk in and face him about a foot away:

"What I mean is that if you EVER fucking touch my horse again without asking my permission, I'm kicking your fucking ass, is what I mean!"

My arms are crossed, my foot is tapping and I'm waiting.

The other guys is off to the side, snickering.

So I turn to him and tell him:

"And you think that's funny, I'll kick your ass, too, come on!"

I turn around and walk over to Doodle.

I hear a "man, I'm sorry, I was just trying to do the right thing here, you know.."

"Well, let me tell you, the right thing would have been for you to come ask me to move the horse and that you need the arena. That would have been the right thing.

In the future, you'll know what to do, right?"

I snapped my shank back on Doodle and as we were leaving, Doodle turns towards the little group, snorts, snakes his head up and down and with an elegant turn of foot, leads me out of the arena.

So, I know rules as related to race horses are different than rules in boarding barns.

You guys ever have to deal with this type of thing? And does it bother you?
Ever come into the barn to find your horse has been moved to another stall without any notice to you or permission from you? How do you guys handle it?

I'm obviously not very tactful when getting my point across when it comes to my children (human or animal). But I think I made my point and it left a lasting impression.

How do you all feel about people outside of your circle handling your horse(s) without your permission?

A Cindirelli Story

2009-01-12T18:00:00.000-08:00

Ok, I know it's spelled Cinderella but this one is a little bit different.

Back in July 2008, one of my owners purchased a 4 year old filly, sight unseen, based on a photo, her pedigree, her race record, the word of a person who was acting as the sales agent and the fact that this filly had just raced last in May.

Her price was set at $4500, which in this economy, is pretty steep, even for a mare with her breeding [by Capote out of Fundraising by Black Tie Affair (IRE)]- nice family, top and bottom.

My owner was able to negotiate the price down by a couple of thousand dollars.
We were told the current owner had 25 or so head horses that he tossed into a grassless pasture, no hay, no grain, no fresh water, just a pond in the pasture. We were also told that she was a hundred or so pounds skinny and that she was completely racing sound but needed some TLC quick.

My owner arranged for payment and had the filly moved from "Ole Pete's" farm (let's just call the previous owner that) and she was boarded for 3 weeks at the agent's farm.

The date approached for her to get on the trailer. She was located in VA, sort of off the beaten path.

It was a Saturday morning when the trailer arrived shortly before I made it to the training center. The guy was very nice and told me he had gone ahead and off loaded her and put her in her stall. I walked up with him to look at her and sign receipt paperwork.
He told me they were worried about keeping her on the trailer longer than absolutely necessary because they felt she may not make it through the day. They had another horse scheduled to drop off first but went out of their way to deliver her to us.

I saw a beautiful grey head sticking out of the stall and went to open the door.
What I saw standing in this stall put me into shock. I didn't know what to say. I was completely dumbfounded.
The horse I was looking at was not the horse whose picture both my owner and I had seen. This horse was a wreck. A skeleton. To top it off, her right front leg was swollen from above the knee on down and she was sore walking on it.

I've seen a lot of skinny horses. I used to help rescue horses in the past. I'm also pretty damned good at looking at a horse and telling you how much weight it needs without having to stick it on a scale.

This mare (for she didn't look like a 4 year young filly, she looked like an old mare) was an easy 400=450 lbs underweight.

Shocked? You should be. This filly is right at 17 hands tall.
During this first bath, which took several shampooings and rinses, I discovered the following:

Upwards of 20+ ticks embedded under each of her "armpits":

A barrage of insects to make proud an entomology professor that was living in her mane, complete with nests. Ulcers were present near her udder and along the inside of her thighs.

Not a single ounce of fat left anywhere on this poor creature. Whatever muscle she still had was just enough for her to walk and stand. She couldn't actually lay down in her stall for the first week.

I could actually stick my upper arm between her butt cheeks and not get stuck.

A week after her arrival, I took more photos during bathtime. She looked even worse then because I had so successfully scrubbed off every bit of rainrot and unhealthy coat she had. Now there was nothing hiding her bones.

Notice the shank attached to her halter. Ms. Skeletar was getting as strong as an ox! Nothing was stopping her. She'd walk right over whatever or whoever was in front of her.

Course, at this point, every trainer at the training center would stop through to view her and wish us luck. Everyone was pulling for this girl. I've never heard so many strangers be so outraged by something done to an animal. "Ole Pete" is lucky he lives so far away.

Her tongue was almost severed from being tied incorrectly. Her teeth had never been floated and she still had a couple of baby caps.

Her feet were a mess. Her legs were a mess. Come to think of it, there wasn't a part of her that wasn't a mess. Cept for her eyes. Those looked good- no infection, no discharge and no injuries or blindness.

What I noticed the most about this girl was her attitude. She soaked up every bit of attention she got. She enjoyed her warm baths (it was summer but I still used warm water because cold water got her shaking like a leaf!). She would gingerly walk across the driveway to stand for her bath and be perfectly still for its administration.

She loved eating grass. And I swear to you guys, she must have been able to understand every word I told her because she responded immediately to any type of positive comment and her spirits were high.

It has taken months to rehab this girl.

Xrays showed that she had an old and healed slab fracture in her RF knee and an old and healed sesamoid fracture in the same leg. Looking at the history we were able to track down for this girl, she raced through both injuries without more than a 30 day break.

I also found out that she was never trained at the track. The "trainer" only swam her a couple of times per week, gave her official works and then raced her. This filly was never fit enough to actually race. Yet she broke her maiden in a 10k Maiden Claimer, going gate to wire in a 9F race at Charlestown.
Charlestown Racetrack is a bullring. It's a small track. 9F at Charlestown is like going around the track 50 times.
Ok, not 50 times, but you get the idea.

The vet came and checked her, shaking his head the whole time. Told me this was a lost cause. This had to be EPM. That she'd never walk sound again. I took all this with a grain of salt because having worked in rescue, I've seen a lot worse than this girl and I honestly did not think it was as bad as he said.
While he was talking, her head went lower and lower and was finally resting up against my chest. Her ears were drooping back and she didn't want to move her head off me.

When Doc went to get his xray equipment, I grabbed her head and told her:
"Honey, don't you listen to any of that. Everything is going to be just fine. You'll be great. You watch, I will make sure that you're going to be healthy and happy and fat again."
Amazingly, she immediately responded and stopped moping.
This is why I say she understands everything. She must! By now it's happened too many times for her not to understand human speak.

Since gaining weight and standing in a stall are not a good way to gain positive weight, after a couple of weeks, I started taking her for walks around the track and property. Her strength was coming back very quickly and before too long, we all realized that she did not have any ground manners.

She was also completely in love with racing. I would take her to the grass and she would stare out over to the track with this far away look on her face.

Cindirelli on August 7- less than a month later. The guy holding her is my good friend Jose.

Notice the lack of mane- I had to roach the whole thing.

We've worked on her feet. I trimmed her myself the first couple of times. Her feet didn't look as bad as they actually were. Below are photos I took after her first trim. Her shoes had grown into the bottoms of her feet.

Above: Right front: not very bad looking, other than her heels being underslung and and crushed. This hoof was also a good bit contracted.

Above: Left Front - a good chunk of hoof wall missing- only so much I could do without making her even more sore. This foot was very run down- broken down a good bit from carrying the bulk of her weight because of the injury to her opposite front leg. Toes gotten long and no heel left.

Above: Right front side view- you can really see how high she is in the heel and short in the toe. There is a lot of flare going half way up the hoof.

Above: : Left front: big difference between the other front- this is typical in a horse who has had an injury- the hoof opposite the injured leg will start breaking down. It's a tell tale sign in TBs- you see a horse with two different feet like this and you're told it is perfectly sound? Well, it may be now but there is an old injury in the opposite leg or hoof- you can put money on that.

Left Front again. Ton of toe.

And one more time.

Let me remind you guys, these photos were taken within a month of her arrival.

Present Day

It's been a pretty long time since her arrival and she's gained a ton of weight. I had started her jogging with extra saddle pads a month after her arrival (a skinny horse needs to gain muscle back- just fat won't only not help but will expose them to the risk of heart failure).

What started off with just a mile, ended up culminating to almost 4 miles per day.
She now jogs a mile and gallops up to 2-2.5 miles. She wants to run so badly, it's like looking at an addict. She is impossible to take off the track. Her shenanigans are unrivalled in that department.

It's time to see if this girl still has it in her. We're looking for an easy race for her- 5k claiming at a mile. She's getting shoes on this week at some point (she needs some elevation on that left front, she looks like a pacer when she's jogging because she sinks so much deeper on the left side on landing). We've fixed as much as we can in the time given with barefoot trims.

After the shoes are on, she's going to have a mandatory official work so that she can be entered. If the weather holds up, I should be able to have her in a race within a month.

This is Cindirelli today:

The photos below were taken by Louie and Anne. You can tell the ones taken by Louie by the missing parts of the horse in the picture.....

So there you have it. Months to undo what one thoughtless, worthless, careless person did to this girl, just by not doing a damned thing.

People who do this to horses go straight to hell. No doubt about it. No ifs, ands, or buts.
And when Ole Pete gets there, I hope the Powers That Be do the same thing to him. Can't wait for those before and after pictures!

The Cost of Training

2009-01-07T14:21:00.000-08:00

I've been asked this by a couple of people here lately.

Although finances probably are not something appropriate to discuss in this type of forum, I've gotten to thinking about this and maybe this is a good way of informing folks about one of the other mysteries surrounding racing.

Training is expensive. When you are a one-person operation, it's also backbreaking work.
There are no days off. Not for the human.
Period.

Stall rent, bedding, feed, superior quality hay, basic supplements, exercise rider, equipment, those are just the basics that come out of a trainer's pocket.

By the time it's all said and done, I make an average of $6 per day off each horse.
Trainers depend on purse winnings. My cut from a race is, if the horse runs 1-5 place, 12%.

When you are looking at a purse like the last race Lady ran in, this is how the purse structure breaks down:
Purse: $22,000
1st place: 60% of purse
2nd: 20% of purse
3rd: 10% of purse
4th: 5% of purse
5th 2% of purse

The rest of the field generally gets the jock mount fee "reimbursed", i.e. the horse will make something like $50-60, which pays for the jockey.

In other words, training race horses for a living is slim pickings in the paycheck department, unless you have a huge barn full of talented, problem free horses (yea right!).

I had a discussion earlier with a friend about this (another trainer) and although our styles are very different, and we look at horsemanship from different backgrounds, on this we both agree:

You are better off owning your horses than to have a public stable when you are a small barn.

Add to the financial picture, the emotional drain that being at the mercy of other people puts on you mentally, well, there you have it.

It doesn't matter how good a trainer you are, how happy and well trained the horses in your care are, racing is racing and there are no guarantees. Purses suck these days, everyone is having financial problems and what it boils down to is that this business is a thankless game.
Add to that some of the creeps who are trainers out there (there is one particular trainer at my training center who just can't help himself - he LOVES to steal horses from other trainers. He just did this to a trainer in the upper barn- badmouthed the trainer to his owner, who turned around, pulled all the horses and gave them to the badmouther. It does make you wonder about the owner and his ability to judge people, though...)
I always thought he was a nice enough guy but then hearing the things I do, I guess there must be a reason why he was only allowed back to the training center conditionally (other people's stuff better not go missing) and everyone calls him a crook.

The point being, there are different folks, different strokes out there. I am never going to be one of "those kinds of trainers". I'm in this for my love of horses and racing. The horse will ALWAYS come first in my barn. I realize this is an unconventional way to do things at the backside, but this is where the buck stops for me.

You guys can google race horse trainers and come up with some websites and see what trainers charge for their dayrates. I know what I charge is nowhere near enough.

There is an interesting bit of research out there which I am going to paste below. Its data was compiled by surveying different training barns in Kentucky. Note when you read the prices listed for things such as hay and feed- I get a super deal on my hay and pay $5 per bale. A bag of feed costs me $20. A bale of straw runs $3.

This article is copied from the "Race Horse Trainer" website:

Cost of Training

Owners - do you wonder where your day rate money goes? We interviewed several medium sized racing stables in Kentucky to come up with an average breakdown of the rate paid by owners per horse for training services. The breakdown is based on a 10-12 horse stable, which if keeping costs as low as possible could manage with 1 rider, 1 hotwalker, and 2 grooms. Most stables have horses coming and going all the time, therefore contract labor is often used to supplement staff on salary (it's a rare rider or hotwalker who can work with 10 horses/day; 5-8 horses/day per rider or hotwalker is more realistic). Some trainers gallop horses themselves which is a big savings in exercise rider fees. Note that groom cost per horse is higher because a groom works with less horses than a rider or hotwalker (3-5 horses/day per groom is common).

Typical costs per horse per day in Kentucky and can vary by several dollars/day - the numbers here are on the LOW END of the range, and are current for 2004 :
$12 - exercise rider
$17 - groom
$5 - hotwalker
About 20% of the labor cost for groom, rider, and hotwalker is FICA, unemployment, and workers compensation taxes.
$4 - straw
$6 - hay
$3 - grain
$1 - supplements
$5 - office/barn equipment and supplies
The total is $53/day. In our research we found day rates in Kentucky that varied from $35-$80/day. The majority of trainers we encountered that are stabled at race tracks and large training centers in Kentucky charge about $60/day. Note that training centers that do not have live racing charge "stall rent", generally at a rate of $5-$8/day per stall.

Other expenses paid by the trainer and usually not covered by the day rate:
travel and moving expenses
assistant trainer's salary
liability insurance
health insurance

Other expenses paid by the owner that are not included in the day rate:
farrier
shipping
veterinary care, medications, vaccinations, worming
specialized equipment for an individual horse
mortality insurance on horses
liability insurance

Other points to consider:
-Not only do most trainers drive to work in the morning 7 days/week, they also have to
drive to the races when not stabled at the active track, and many move their entire
stable and their home with the racing circuit several times a year. In order to retain
important staff members, trainers have to pay some employees' travel and moving
expenses as well.
-For these reasons travel expenses are extremely high for most trainers.
-For trainers who have exercise riders on salary, the more horses per day that one
rider can gallop, the less the cost per horse for the trainer. Similarly the trainer's labor
cost will be less if salaried grooms handle more horses per groom; however, each
horse in the stable will receive less individual attention if the groom and exercise rider
have more horses to work with daily.
-Feed and bedding cost is directly related to quality, and feed/bedding quality directly
affects the horse's health and performance so is very important. The cost of hay and
straw can fluctuate greatly depending on weather conditions and demand. Most race
tracks and large training centers mandate use of straw for bedding, so lower cost
bedding options like sawdust on rubber mats is not an option.
-Most racing stable employees and many trainers do not have health care insurance
coverage because they can't afford the premiums. Of course this is a problem shared
by many small businesses in the U.S. This problem is part of the reason for the
existence of horsemen's organizations such as the Horsemen's Benevolent and
Protective Association (HBPA) and the Kentucky Racing Health and Welfare Fund.

So you might ask, "how does a trainer make a living?"

Trainers have to make ends meet with purse money, and there isn't much room for error or a trainer will go broke quick. Let's optimistically assume that an average trainer's 10 horse stable earns an average of $20,000/year per horse, or $200,000 in total earnings. The trainer's share of the purse earnings is 10% or $20,000. A major focus of the HBPA is maximizing purse money, since it is what keeps not only trainers, but the whole racing industry in business.

Creative ways that some trainers try to improve the bottom line:
-Owning part of the horses they train, therefore increasing their percentage of purse
earnings. This is risky since there is no guarantee that any horse will actually earn
money (see stats below).
-Acting as bloodstock agents for their owners, making 5-10% commission on buying
and selling racing prospects.
-Owning a farm and breeding for racing or sale, boarding layups and young horses for
owners.

Unless a trainer has several high dollar earners in the barn, it's a tough way to make a living. A trainer must be ruthlessly selective of the horses kept in training to ensure that each one can contribute to the bottom line. This is not an easy task considering the statistics below from Thoroughbred Times:

Chances of what any given thoroughbred race horse born in North America might accomplish in its entire racing career:
run in a race: 69%
win a race: 45%
win more than once: 34%
win a stakes race: 3%
win a graded stakes: less than 1%
race at age 2: 34%
win at 2: 11%
win a stakes at 2: less than 1%
*Copied From Race Horse Trainer*

Thoroughbreds with American Citizenship

2009-01-06T19:02:00.000-08:00

Today was eye-opening for me.

Coming up in Europe, horse keeping was very different. Now add to that the fact that horse racing is, to this day, also done very differently, you invariably end up comparing different methods at one point or another, side by side.

Now I don't practice European style horse keeping. Most horses over there (or let me be more specific- in Germany, where I spent the majority of my growing up time) live in stalls 24/7. Most riding stables back when I was young had no pasture land or fields. Many of the stables were old, centuries old, barns built from rocks, bricks, or not THAT old but made from Beton (German for concrete). I remember when I started earning my first lessons in exchange for caring for a school horse, those old school masters were kept in "parking spot" stalls. Spaces about 6 feet wide, 10 feet long. The horse is parked head first and that's where it lives.
Not knowing any better at the fresh age of 6, I never gave it another thought.

The horse I cared for was a HUGE liver chestnut Hanovarian mare named Elfe (German for Elf).
Elfe was a bit of a biter and didn't like everyone. But she loved me and it was mutual.
She was an easy 17 hands tall and her hooves, if I remember correctly, were at least a race shoe size 8 or 9, easily.

As barbaric as the horse keeping practices at this establishment sound, it was actually a very reputable and regionally recognized riding school, specializing in dressage.

Here is where I have to put another explanation in, which is going to veer way off the subject, but it's a must:

Germany and her teaching methods, in any discipline, whether academic or as in this case, equestrian, is very from the bottom up and all encompassing.

When you are a student in a German school and you go to PE, you don't just play Dodgeball in Gym. You actually learn: Basketball, Handball, Soccer, Tennis, Gymnastics (not just basic stuff, either. I vividly remember the parallel bars and vaulting. I remember coming off the rings with a flip through the air and landing on my feet!), Swimming (competitively), Track, you name it.

Come to think of it, the competition aspect also bled over into general academia, i.e. math. Competitions in early Geometry and Algebra as young as 4th grade were NOT unusual, and by competition I mean in class competition- teacher lines up the whole class and poses a problem on the board. First student in line has to answer it. Correct answer gets points. Incorrect answer gets you to stand in back of the line to start all over again.

So, when I started learning the skills of classical horsemanship, it was also required that I learn to jump. Basically, all riders had to come from a level skill base in order to continue and excel and start showing. Once you learned all sorts of different disciplines, you could then choose the specialty in which you wanted to continue and come up in.

This barn was a mere kilometer from our home. Another kilometer down the main road from the barn was a racetrack. An honest-to-goodness, real life racetrack.

I used to pedal past this track on my way to school every morning, on my bike during the open race meet. I would glance over the HUGE hedge and hope to get a glimpse of horses, jockeys, something, anything!

After a few years of obsessing over the big mystery contained behind that giant green wall of China, at the age of 12, I decided I had had enough wonderment and I was going to find out.

I snuck in through the ship-in gate into the barn area.

Over in Europe, horses don't stable at the track. Trainers train from either private or public training farms and ship in for races.
The particular Saturday I chose was a live racing day and I went about exploring the "backside" as best as I could without being noticed by security personnel.

I must have been having delusions to think that a 12 year old girl on her own would not get noticed - I was petting heads peeking out awaiting their races when someone hollered and within the blink of an eye, I was cornered by two security guards (who at that time in my short life seemed REALLY HUGE). I was informed that I would be escorted back to the gate, where the local police would then collect me and take me home (oh joy, this whup-ass I REALLY did not look forward to!) when an older gentleman walked up and asked where the hell I had been and not to wander off on my own or I wouldn't be accompanying him in the future.

This man, who freed me from the clutches of the evil security nazis, was a trainer who took me under his wing and got me started in racing.

Thoroughbreds with German Citizenship

Did you know that in Germany, race training takes place come hell or high water? Rain? What are you, made of sugar? As much as it rains over there, if training stopped for rain, well, no races would be won. You throw on your rain gear, you get a leg up and off you go to the gallops.
Heck, I've never met a horse that didn't enjoy working in the rain!

Surprisingly, those German Thoroughbreds are apparently of a very hardy sub species of the breed. I say that because....

Today it was raining. Steph came out and trimmed two of my crew and off to the track we went. When the rain started to pour down, Cowboy came into the barn and asked me if I was ready to call it a day.

The puzzled expression on my face must have been worth a million because he explained:

"Well, we can keep going out if you want them to get sick!"

By now my face is scrunched doubly, trying to follow this train of thought and figure out just what the hell he is talking about?!?

"Sick, what do you mean?"

"Well, it's raining!"

"No shit, Sherlock, what's your point?"

"Well, you send the rest out in this rain, they're going to get wet and then they're going to get sick!"

I have a really hard time equating wet with sick in the same thought process.
I'm guessing this is attributable to the fact that in my brain, the ability to get sick has a prerequisite of a bug of some sort to invade FIRST. Or a weak immune system.
But never once in my life have I ever heard of a perfectly healthy being get sick from simply being out in the rain. (Although my grandmother tried plenty of times to pull this wool over my eyes, as I'm sure yours has, too!)

Instead of explaining all this to Cowboy, who I suspect was more or less referring to himself moreso than the horses with his statement, I simply informed him that to my knowledge a healthy Thoroughbred wouldn't just get sick from training in the rain.

As I walked off, I turned around and said:
"Waitaminute...... I get it! These are American Thoroughbreds! They must have special lowered immune function! THAT's why they'd get sick in the rain, right?"

Trying not to laugh at the pissy look on his face, I mumbled, walking off to the tack room to retrieve the next set of tack:

"Dang! I knew I shoulda brought soma dem there German racehorses over here with me! Shit, what am I gonna do now for the rest of the winter!??????!!!!!! The vet bills are going to be outrageous!!!!!!!!!"

******************************

The humor in the situation is self-evident, of course. But what lingered with me was the thought that for some reason, horse people, especially racing people, in this wonderful country come up with the most asinine concepts I have EVER heard of!

I suspect Cowboy really just wanted to go home early because he was already soaked to the bone. Thing about that is- why not just come out and say it?

Instead I am forever going to look at him and wonder what exactly he has learned in 30 years of being around the racetrack.

Or maybe, Thoroughbreds with American Citizenship do have inferior immunity?

Then again, these are the same Thoroughbreds who couldn't possibly run a race without shoes.

Some days I feel like I have stepped into the twilight zone.

I'm going to have to see if I can get an application for Canadian Citizenship for Doodle.
At least then I can flash his passport next time someone tells me it's raining and proclaim:

"HA! Doesn't faze us! See this here? My horse is a Canadian Citizen! He can train in the rain and NOT get sick!"
The love of my life, Raggedy [RIP(Three Rags Rappin)] - in the snow. How in the world he didn't get sick, I don't know, after all, he was an American Thoroughbred Citizen.......*snicker*

6 Things About Me Tag

2009-01-05T18:04:00.000-08:00

Ok, so a little while ago, one of my readers, Jackie, left a comment tagging me for this "6 Things About Me Tag" Game.
My first response was the *eyeroll* with the "you're kidding, right?" mumbled somewhere in between there.

I initially ignored this tag and justified it by telling myself, that, well, I'm really not all that interesting and to be honest, thinking of 6 things about myself... is WORK! No way, dude!

Since then, a special, and undoubtedly, unjustified, amount of guilt has set in (maybe something to do with being raised in a Muslim household yet having been schooled by mean nuns with wacky, hard, wooden rulers that stung a great deal, in a Catholic School- you figure it out- the concept of guilt, which makes me do the things I would by nature put off doing. Be honest, you have one of those tiny little twinges somewhere in there, too, no?) for ignoring this kind request by a stranger who finds my ramblings interesting (go figure) and what sort of putz would forgo this type of invitation?

I guess what I'm getting at here is that the amount of hemming and hawing it took me to honor this request, coupled with thoughts of why in the world anyone would want to know 6 things about me, made it impossible for me to ignore, and here I am, playing the Tag game.

1. I was born in Asia. Specifically, in Istanbul, Turkey, which rests half in Asia and half in Europe. I did, however, grow up on the other side- in Europe- living in Turkey, then Germany, briefly in France and back and forth including stints in the United States. Yes, I am a US citizen. I am also a German and Turkish citizen. Makes me a triple citizenship person, I guess. As a result, I speak several languages fluently, including German, Turkish, sometimes English (ok, so that was a fib), used to speak French fluently and can get around in Spanish, as well. Never mind the slew of curses I know in any of the European languages. Oh, yes, and I took Chinese in college (don't ask!).

2. The first time I saw a horse, my mother had taken me to a family member's farm and she said I almost fell out of my stroller trying to get to the horse. The first time I sat on a horse was at age 2 during a pony ride at a carnival. It took 3 adults to pry my screaming bottom off the poor, tired pony.

3. I am single. Ok, correction: Technically, I am divorced. Unfortunately, the experience was so long ago and of such the unpleasant kind, I can't remember the guy's name, nor what he looked like.
This I consider to be a fortunate occurance.
A few other relationships have followed since but as of a year and a half ago, I am very happily single, do not intend to share my very valuable spare time or any of my very peaceful evenings with any other man, no matter how delightfully delicious his company may be. In the end, they all fall short of one very important requirement that I can't live without, namely, the ability to be secure enough in themselves to let me be exactly who I am without trying to change me, and, well, I just find life much, much easier and more pleasant when not only do I not sweat the small stuff, but I don't even let it into my life.
Moments of romantic swooning happen regularly when I catch a glimpse of Wesley Snipes, or the yummy guy that stars in that show "Eleventh Hour", and let's not forget Sean Connery in "First Knight"- you get the idea...

4. I have a very independent 13 year old daughter who is the polar opposite of myself as far as interests go. She is a computer/electronics genius who NEVER plays outside, rarely accompanies me to work and for the most part, we get along great.
She used to be into horses when she was younger, was a great little trail rider but it waned.
When I mentioned to her this last spring that I had been hoping that she would start galloping for me that summer, she smirked and this was her reply:
"Mother, if you want this to be a family business, I suggest you adopt another kid. You can always screen them by whether they like horses or not. You could find one who is horse crazy like you are and can even ride. And, if you need someone to help with stalls and around the barn for general chores, well, adopt another one- a boy. He'll be dumb enough to think there is some reward in all that slave labor and if he's short enough, you can even make a jockey out of him!"

5. I like horses better than I like people. I think horses are the better people. Heck, I like my dogs and cats better than I like people. In general, I find critters to be much more intelligent and intellectually stimulating than most folks I run across on a daily basis. People who don't "get" their horses, well, they obviously need to work on expanding their brain power.

6. Hold on to your seats because this one will blow your socks off:
I went to lawschool (University of Georgia), graduated in the top 1/3 of my class and realized how much I hated that particular profession, inspite of the fact that I was very good at it.
One day, my then 3 or so year old daughter came up to me and said:
"Mommy, I think you need a horse", so I literally dropped everything and went back to horses. That was almost 10 years ago.

There you have it. 6 Things About Me.

Now I'm supposed to tag 6 people, only I really don't know if I know 6 people to tag who haven't already played this game.
Come to think of it, here is an idea: If you are reading my blog and you have never been tagged, leave a comment and consider yourself tagged by me. Please leave a link to your blog so that we can all go read those unimaginably interesting things that the rest of the world does not know about us *Grin*.

Oh yea, here is Jackie's blog:
http://ace.regardinghorses.com/time-get-back-in-the-groove/

Another one bites the dust.....

2009-01-05T05:07:00.000-08:00

What an appropriate title for a post!

If you had been anywhere near me these last few days, I wouldn't have to explain.

Lady raced Friday night at Turfway. We went off at huge odds. My dear friend Hector was on board as navigator.

Remind me, folks, how many times I have named Hector on Lady now... three rides so far, I believe?

Friday evening, while waiting for our outrageous 9:32 pm post time, I get a call from Hector (our jockey, for those of you who haven't read previous posts). I think to myself, utoh, this can't be good!

Hector tells me he is on his way to Turfway. That he is coming in just to ride Lady, and no other horses. That his latest agent is an ass and he switched agents and decided he would not be getting on all the horses his last agent lined up. Just Lady.

I'm flattered and think, well, maybe this is a good omen. I mean, a jockey that is driving in from across the river for just this one ride, come on, this is good, right?

Lady is feeling great. She can't wait to get out there and run.

She breaks wonderfully from post position 1 and is hauling ass. She is right up there with the other half million dollar horses (serious competition in this race). We're finally going a mile.

In contention the whole race until she comes to the last turn before the stretch for home. I'm watching on screen with my breath held thinking: "Wow, look at her- this is the horse I expected to see all this time!" , when she all of a sudden looks like she is galloping backwards.

She hit the breaks so hard I thought something very bad may have happened.

I run back to the track from the grand stand entrance and wait to see what coming out of the turn will bring.

There is Lady at the rail, no longer in the 5th position but crossing the wire, dead last.

Picking her up I ask Hector what happened.

"She's sound, she's great, I dunno, she just quit!"

My friend Tommy who hauled us up there comes up and announces "She quit, just cold quit."

But why? Hector doesn't stick around long and I'm left holding the horse with the owner looking displeased. I walk her off back towards the receiving barn and tell the owner I'm calling the vet to have her scoped. This sort of quitting doesn't come from a horse getting tired. Something happened. I wonder if she flipped her palate? She's never done it before.
Perhaps she bled badly? She is a bleeder- despite the Lasix, she has bled a tiny amount each race, which indicates she is a genetic bleeder.

The little voice in the back of my head is murmuring a quiet but persistent mantra: "He hit her with the whip".

Scope is clean except for a tiny bit of mucus. Not anything that would make her quit running. Palates are all in perfect working order. Not a drop of blood in sight (that's a first).

Her owner's friend, a pretty good horseman, comes up to me and tells me out loud what the little voice was telling me: He had to have hit her.

Lady isn't tired. Although she drinks a fair amount of water, considering the fact that Lasix dehydrates and we have been in the receiving barn since before 4 pm that afternoon, I'm not surprised. She's jumping around, dragging me every chance she gets, upbeat, happy and unwinded. A tired horse who just quit its race would never act this way.

Did my pinhead friend have a brainfart and use the whip on my girl?

I won't know until I get home and watch the replay.

At 3: 30 a.m., I am finally back home and planted firmly in front of my computer. I'm watching the replay- panoramic view, I can't tell much as the picture is too far away. I have to watch several times and really pay attention to his body language. The place where she wheeled backwards is where he would have asked her to go more, to find her next gear. Looking at his shoulders and weight distribution, he most likely used the whip.

I watch the head on replay and again, from that angle at that particular place, it is impossible to tell. However, when he comes out of the turn with her and enters the stretch, there he is, plain as day, hitting her with the whip. Right handed, low, barely noticeable.

Why, oh why, is it that these boys think they know better than the trainer?

I hate he made this mistake. It may have been an honest mistake. Jockeys will instinctively go to the whip during the race at certain times. I understand that.

What bothers me is this:
You make a mistake. Please come tell me about it. I won't rip your head off. I can forgive one mistake, an honest mistake. I've heard jockeys say I'm sorry, I spaced out, I was on autopilot and hit the horse.
Instead, my pinhead comes up and tells me, I dunno what happened, she just quit. And lacking further explanation, he runs off to the jock's room. Not like Hector at all. More like:
"Oh shit, I better get out of here before she figures out what happened".

Small mistake. Cost us very big.

In the meantime, I get a call from her owner who tells me the wife has announced that the horse has to have shoes on or can't win.

My instinct was to tell him to come pick her up. This filly has an old injury to her hip that develops heat down her right leg once in a while and so far has not bothered her. I'm afraid if I put shoes on her, it's going to aggravate the situation and she will come up too sore to continue.

But hey, who am I? Just the trainer. I must not know what I'm doing.

Tells you the difference between experience and speculation.

When a race doesn't go right and you are trying to figure out what to fix with a horse, you NEVER attempt to fix more than one thing between races. NEVER. You "fix" 4 things and the horse runs well- guess what? You have no clue what one thing was the actual fix.
Stupid.
Not that putting shoes on her would make a damned bit of difference to improve the way she runs, au contraire- if nothing else, it will expose her to more shock and heighten the probability of reinjury.

In an ideal world, all the horses in my barn would be my own.

In reality, they are not. In reality, there is a certain amount of ass kissing trainers have to partake in because our clients, like it or not, are the owners, not the horses.

As disgusted as I am with the demands now placed on me, I have little choice in the matter. If I send Lady back, they take her to another trainer and she now turns around and runs well because we have figured out the majority of her quirks, I look like shit as a trainer.

I can bitch, moan, work myself up and when I look at this filly, I can even feel bad for her, knowing full well, none of it will make a difference.

As my dear friend Doc Beebe told me yesterday on the phone: "Honey- you tell these owners what you just told me: There is a probability she will come up sore if I put shoes on her and I am telling you that right now. But I will put the shoes on her because that is what you want.
When she does come up sore and has to be off for a few months, I want you to know that I warned you this could happen."

It's called a disclaimer. Cover your ass. I'll ignore the fact that seeing shoes on this filly is going to make me cringe every time. Watching those hooves fall apart again is going to anger me.
When she was brought to me, I was told that her feet fell apart badly from having shoes on last year.
This girl can jog and gallop on a paved. gravelly driveway and never take an ouchy step. Barefoot.

And I now get to ruin four perfectly good hooves.

Who can I smack? Any volunteers?

Fat ones, fast ones, slow ones and boxers

2008-12-29T18:18:00.000-08:00

I know, I know, I haven't posted in ... oh, forever. Got kind of busy with work and it's been beyond cold outside. By the time I get home, it takes me forever to thaw out.

Or I could also use the fact that I haven't really had much stamina to put together another post so far.

Lady has raced twice more since the last race post.

Turfway Park. Did pretty well the first time I took her- awful break from the gate- looking around in there like- oooooh, look at THAT horse over here!- and- Oooooooooh, look at the crowd over there!. Gates open and she is looking around.
"Oh shit, the gate is open!" Sits down like a bunny rabbit and jumps out, climbs for a little while before she finds her stride and settles in. Is about 20 lengths in back of the pack.
I'm going "Crap!" Her owner is glaring at me sideways.

Coming up on the turn, she starts running up on the field. She passes horses like they are standing still! She's going, going faster, runs up to fifth position and THE FRIGGIN RACE IS OVER ARRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH. 6F. Too short for her. I knew this of course. But owner is convinced she can run short. Well, if she had broken better, she may have. Had that race been a mile, she would have won it BIG TIME.

Just took her back on Saturday. REALLY short race 5 1/2F.
Beat one horse. Still doesn't come out of that gate as fast as she possibly could and doesn't like being hustled. A good friend of mine has been riding her for these last two races and he told me everything I already saw watching the race.
She doesn't want to hustle to the front. She doesn't like the kickback from the track surface and backs up.
"I can win with this girl but you gotta send her long".

Entering tomorrow for Friday for a mile. This will be the 4th time I am trying to get her into a mile race, so far, either the race overfills or it doesn't go at all.

She's doing great today, went to the track and jogged 2.5 miles, all the while wanting to run off with Cowboy.

Lady has now also earned herself a World Heavy Weight Boxing Title. Before this last race, at the receiving barn, she gets herself hung up in her hay rack. Right in front of my eyes. I'm still baffled by how she did this. In any case, her foot is wrapped in the rack, she is going boinkers, beating herself up trying to get out of it before I can shake off the three helpful guys who are holding me back to keep me from running into her stall and freeing her. How gallant! Their idea of helping her is to yell "Whoaaaaa girl, Whoooooaaaa, calm down!"
Yea right! THAT worked really well!

I ran in and grabbed her, she immediately stopped fighting and waited for me to free her.

But she freaked herself out so bad, he adrenalin must have really thrown her for a loop. After this incident, her energy level ebbed and never came back up. After the race, she was actually walking quietly and was obviously tired.
She skinned her L shoulder at the point, her RR fetlock and a small place above her L eye.

The next morning, her leg was puffed up, her bump on the shoulder had gone down and she has a huge shiner- her eye is *pooooooof* big like a boxer's.
I sweated her leg that night and doctored the minor other scrapes.

Today, she is, feeling great, rested well, on her feed, with attitude. No swelling in the leg.
So off to the track I sent her.

Her and everyone else.

I have come to a conclusion: My horses are all nuts!

Every one of them tried to dump Cowboy. I wish I had had the camera with me to video it!

Especially Cindirelli. She has gained back the 500 lbs she lacked when she arrived and I can actually now see two round butt cheeks from her topline view! She actually looks FAT. Well, fat for a racehorse.

Which reminds me, I haven't told Cindirelli's story. Hmmm.
I think in the next few days, I'm going to have to put together a post just about this girl.

I'm going to have to bring the camera with me tomorrow. A post about Cindirelli warrants lots of video and photos.

In any case, everyone is doing great.

I'm entering Lady tomorrow for Friday. Did I already mention that?

Darcy has a new home!

2008-11-25T04:46:00.000-08:00

Just wanted to quickly update everyone on the Loosey-Goosey...

Tom hauled her yesterday after lunch to.... (*insert drumroll*)

Friends of Ferdinand!

Yay! They have raised the funds for her sinus surgery and the little girl is going to be living in horse heaven as she was sponsored as one of Tony Stewart's ex-racers. How cool is that?

You guys can check out FFI's website for updates on Darcy:
http://www.friendsofferdinand.org

What a relief. Ya'll wouldn't believe some of the shady characters who wanted to take this girl home.

The results are in

2008-11-22T05:04:00.000-08:00

Now that I'm over my annoyance at my jockey's inability to listen to instructions, I feel it is safe for me to share the dismal race results from Wednesday without offending every ear not belonging to a sailor.

This is what pinhead (another name for jockey) was told:
Make sure she breaks well, let her run, keep her in contention up by the front. I want her to have a good race experience.

She breaks well. She gets bumped a little within the first furlong but straightens out nicely, no problem. They head towards the first turn, our girl is coming up on the cluster of horses along the outside with another filly on her outside. You can see she is really relishing this- running as fast as she wants....
He pulls her back. He actually stands up in the stirrups to pull on her head. Her head is going every which way because she HATES being pulled (does the same thing in training when you try to rate her).
Once she settles back, he tucks her in at the back of the pack and for the rest of the race, she merrily gallops along. Coming out of the second turn, the horse behind her moves up and I'm thinking, ok, she'll make a move now, right?

Wrong! She wouldn't budge. He asked her several times and she wouldn't budge. He used the whip on her and she furiously whipped her tail up and down, she wouldn't budge.

She came back and was pissy for 2 days.

This filly can't be rated. She either gets to run like all hell or she figures, oh, I'm just here to gallop.

So, her and Aldo were not a good match.

I'm really disappointed because she has the ability to hang in this company and so far she's had 2 starts, neither of which are representative of her talents.

Pinhead tells me what a nice filly, but he doesn't think she likes the turf.
I'm thinking, I don't think she likes him.

Owner, of course, is furious that she didn't get to really run this time, either. While I can't blame him for feeling the way he does, I have no power over what happens in a race and we just have to wait for the next one.

We're probably going to Turfway Park for a race on Dec. 7. It's a short race but at least now I know what the instructions need to be:
Get her out of the gate fast and let her run like all hell.

Frustrating. Shit happens. But dang it, this better be the last time!

Here we go again!

2008-11-18T15:05:00.000-08:00

Lady is in at Churchill tomorrow, and once again we got the longest odds.
She's feeling good, and I think she'll do just fine. I even think she'll come out of the gate ok this time and as long as Aldo can keep her settled and in contention, she's got as good a shot as any of those fillies.

Here are the entries with the odds:

Churchill Downs - November 19th, 2008 - Race 4
Estimated Local Post Time: 2:06 PM

Race Type: Maiden Special Weight
Breed: Thoroughbred
Age Restriction: Three Year Old and Upward
Sex: Fillies and Mares

Purse: $42,200
Distance: One And One Sixteenth Miles
Surface: Turf

Post

Horse
Jockey
Owner

Age

Sex

Weight
Trainer
Breeder

Odds

Five Gold Rings (KY)

Shaun Bridgmohan
Summer Wind Racing Stable (Frank and Jane Lyon)

Filly

120
William I. Mott
Summerwind Farm

8/1

Alley Theater (KY)

Jesus Lopez Castanon
Kim and John Glenney

Filly

120
John Glenney
Mark Dedomenico LLC

5/1

Happenstance (KY)

Jamie Theriot
Four D Stable (Donna Arnold)

Filly

120
Charles Lopresti
4-D Stables

30/1

Sadie's Day (KY)

William D. Troilo
Autumn Winds Farm, LLC (Richard and Peggy McBride)

Filly

120
James A. Dodgen
Cypress Creek, LLC &Equine Farm Management, Inc.

15/1

Empiress (KY)

Julien R. Leparoux
Rocinante Racing (James D. Squires)

Filly

120
Michelle Nihei
J. D. Squires

4/1

Here My Are (KY)

John Byrne
Phyllis Haller

Filly

120
John Good
Haller Stables, Ltd.

15/1

Cape Cod Bay (KY)

Kent J. Desormeaux
Overbrook Farm (William T. Young, Jr.)

Filly

120
Dallas Stewart
Overbrook Farm

7/2

One Lady's Vice (KY)

Aldo Canchano
William Stull

Filly

120
Tres J. Delaforce
Claude Felts

30/1

Meadow Saffron (KY)

Calvin H. Borel
Frederick J. Seitz

Filly

120
Fred Seitz
Bradyleigh Farms Inc.

5/1

Sealed Bid (KY)

Robby Albarado
G. Watts Humphrey, Jr.

Filly

120
George R. Arnold, II
G. Watts Humphrey Jr.

3/1

Post time is 2:09 pm. Please wish us the best racing luck!

Can you say COLD?

2008-11-17T17:37:00.000-08:00

This isn't even enjoyably cool. Or enjoyably cold. It is frickin freezin out there and while the horses are loving it, I'm sure my toes are going to fall off from frostbite!

So Mr. Doodle was feeling particularly good today. Any rider other than Cowboy would have been dumped gua-ran-teeeed!

Did I mention snow flurries this afternoon? No? Did I forget? Jeeesh.

Oh, and Lady is in for Wednesday at Churchill, on the turf, no less. They didn't write the race I asked for at 1 mile. They wrote it for 1 mile and 16th. I figure the 16th won't kill her. Got a different jock- a really good one with maidens- Aldo Canchano. Turns out our bug boy quit. He apparently felt a bit intimidated at CD and decided he's heading up to Turfway Park and getting an agent up there. I'm a bit disappointed but the same agent represents Aldo and actually asked to make the entry for me- this is the first time an agent wanted to do this for one of my horses, which basically means he wanted to make sure his guy is named on my horse. He told me Aldo would love to ride her. Yea baby! They liked what they saw and what our bug told them about her.
More about the race later.

I have a series of photos and video of Doodle going to the track. I sorted them sequentially (sort of) so even if the videos won't come through, these will.

While he was out there trying to get rid off Cowboy, Anne and I were hooting and hollering for him.

On the way to the track, he was ok until.....

Once he got him behaving better, Doodle did a wonderful job jogging and galloping.

Now tell me that horse isn't reaching! It is amazing what will happen when you fix a horse's feet!
This boy has suspension when he had none in the last 3 years. Just watching him makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. I actually stood out there, looked up at the sky and said "Thank You!" out loud.

After the warm up jog, we galloped, first nice and easy, then a bit faster, then easy again.
Ummm... that was the plan.

All went well, at first: First Round, nice and (sort of) easy:

Second round, a little bit faster. Right? Would have been great if Doodle had agreed. He didn't want just a little bit. He wanted a LOT bit faster:

"I'm going, I'm going, I'm going, I'm... HEY!!! I want to gogogogogo, stop that pulling!"

"Ok, here we go, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going... don't you start that pulling thing again, you human!"

"I knew it! I knew you'd do it again! And you call me a common asshole, well, that's the pot calling the kettle black! STOOOOPPPPPP ITTTTTTT!!!!!"

"What is with this guy!!???? Let go of my mouth, you glorified poop picker!!!!!"

"Maybe I can duck out this way... ooop, nope, shit, he's taking all the fun out of this!"

And then the slow, boring round.....

And off the track we go!

This is where we turn around and look at the track, where did our "handiwork".

Turning back to the barn...

I know I'm handsome. You've never seen a better looking horse.

"Yea, umm, I don't know what you mean by "Cold". Get a grip. It's hot right now. I'm sweating a bit. Take that big ole coat off and get to work! Pick my stall! Wait, better yet, hotwalk me, yea, hotwalk me. That'll warm you right up."

Doodle is a happy boy these days. Not that he isn't happy other days... he's just a whole lot more spunky and misbehaved. I think Doodle is going to be running a race or two at Turfway Park.

Without those shoes!

That's a stakes horse. Is that a stakes horse???

2008-11-10T17:12:00.000-08:00

I've been MIA since Lady's race, I'm sure you guys noticed. It's been a long week, add the physical exhaustion to the cold weather... well, you get the idea.

Last Wednesday, a friend of mine who trims my guys now (since I'm killing myself trying to do it all, I've decided there is nothing like delegating some of the chores that I don't absolutely have to do myself) came out to trim Doodle.

My intent was to put some glue on shoes on his front, that are specially adapted to heel problems and believe it or not, restoration. Ian McKinlay (the blacksmith who kept Big Brown running), has developed a way to adapt just about any shoe. If you guys are interested in finding out more, check out his website: http://www.tenderhoof.com

In any case, after a couple of calls back and forth between him and I, Doodle got trimmed to perfection so I could trace his hooves and send those measurements to Ian so he can make up 2 shoes for Doodle.

During said trim, we discover that big boy, who has been feeling particularly well for the last week and not been short-striding in the front, or stocking up in the rear (which he would sometimes do due to staying off his front feet and putting too much weight in back) blew out a huge ... something, originating from mid frog through the back of his frog with part of it actually falling off deep enough below the surface to not be able to tell during daily hoof care.

Lo and behold, this apparently was the source of all worries and discussion, changing training, soaking feet for hours on end, considering shoes (glue on only!) and last but not least, perhaps giving up on racing, in spite of the horse himself nodding his head vigorously when competition is mentioned.

How do you explain to a horse: "Honey, I know you want to outrun those guys over there and I know you really want to keep practicing, but you know, I think it's time to give up and well, retire." ??? Given every opportunity to do just that, the boy keeps coming back and being happier in training than he ever was just turned out.

So, while this explains his shenanigans with Cowboy atop, since Wednesday, I have been wondering, second guessing, those glue ons, I have just for the upteenth time decided to put on him; after all, if they don't work out, well, no harm done, we take them off and the hoof has not been compromised.

Then why is it, that every time I do make this decision, I must fortify myself with advice from friends who agree- yes, try them and you can always just take them back off- and in the back of my head, the little whiny voice is culminating to an alarming pitch while nagging away: "No! Don't you put shoes on that horse! It's not right! What if it ruins the last 4 years of restoring the mess? Ohhhh, this is bad bad bad bad news! "

Ian's shoe seemed to come along at the perfect time and what a God sent concept, not only will he adapt a shoe for Doodle, he actually suggested a - get this- shoe that moves WITH the hoof, and no, it ain't plastic. Wow! This I gotta see. (I know you guys wanna see, too, so here is their website: http://www.racerhorseshoes.com/index.html).

I put everything in motion, accomplishing the goal of getting us to a race sooner (there is an age limit on horses eligible to race) rather than later- all I am waiting for is for Ian to call me and say: It's done, they're on their way.

And just then- just when, again, I am THAT close to ignoring the little naggy voice (no doubt this is not a normal occurence for any other trainers- little voices who scream at them about hoof care) - Doodle turns around and makes me wonder if I am, indeed, on the way to make the right decision or .....

Cold outside. It froze last night. The sun is out but the chill is still in the air.
When I get to the barn, Doodle is hiding in the back of his stall, tucked into his favorite blankie and NOT nickering at me like everyone else.
Hmmmm... wonder why he's pissy?

By the time I feed lunch (or should I call it brunch?) his head has joined the rest of the boobleheads in the shedrow.

After lunch, I go to work on his stall and for this, I move him into the "swing" stall (fancy name for an empty stall).
Well, Doodle insists on holding tight to his halter before I can get it on him.
You guys gotta understand, this boy is just NOT like other stallions. He's a sweet, gentle soul. Ok, so he's a sweet, gentle, lazy soul. Most days. The days when he wants to play "rough" with his halter before you get to put it on, I can probably count on less than 3 sets of hands over the last 4 years.
After I talk him out of grinding a permanent tooth mark into the leather, he decides the shank is just as much fun to play with. By the time I get him moved over and he is prancing like a Lippizaner (unheard of!), both my assistant trainers (Doggins and Tuppin) are of the opinion that this horse MUST be played with! Now I have 2 dogs and a horse jumping around the shedrow acting like the raisins in a heavy Jamaican Rum Cake.

At this point, Cowboy comes around the corner and asks me how long before I want to send someone to the track? (Gotta love a guy who will call a horse a "someone"! And did I mention the time I was running late because of car trouble and asked Cowboy to drive around to my shedrow, roll down his window and tell my guys that I WAS going to be there as soon as I could and they had NOT been forgotten- and he actually did that? All without telling me I was nuts?)

I tell him to give me a little time to at least finish his stall because, well, he's acting like he's really happy and I'd like to see how he goes from start to finish without interruptions.
Cowboy agrees to come back after he catches some other mounts and I slip in that he will probably call Doodle a Common Asshole again, which he laughs off.

By the time I get the Doodlebug ready- who is now so happy that he feels the need to play with the seat of my pants while I pick his feet, then play with the tack draped over his stall door, then play with the hood on my fleece sweater, I'm convinced that there is no way Cowboy will stay on this horse today.

Boy, was I wrong.

No pushing Doodle out of the barn today. No waiting for him to get ready to go up to the track. No prodding, no waving the stick. Doodle heads up there and looks around like he owns the track.

He puts himself into a nice frame and jogs his mile like it's nothing. He's actually got suspension back in his step, which I haven't seen in a long while. He's not flat. He's not short. He's striding out and he is having a great time.

My instruction were to start him off easy when galloping and let him have his speed when he wants it but to rate him back if he tries to go all out on a hell bent gallop.
While I run to the back to get my bath bucket filled with hot water to sponge him, Anne is hollering: "Oh, come back here, you gotta see this!"

I run back and what I see is a PERFECTLY sound horse- no ouch, no umpf, a super nice, very professional gallop with legs flying forward and covering ground like never before, ears forward, speed speed and coming into the turn, his rear end flies up and he semi-wheels in a half-hearted effort to dump his rider but then he continues like it never happened.

Anne: "Boy, he looks like a stakes horse!"
Me: "Well, he is a stakes horse."
Anne: "Doodle is? The one you got out of the killpen?"
Me: "Yup, ran allowance and a stakes, all with broke down feet."
Anne: "No kidding? Well, he is looking better than he ever has out there. He really looks like a stakes horse!"

And that he is.

My boy came back and I laughed at the smug look on both his and Cowboy's faces.
He looked proud. He looked down around him and that look said "I own this place".

He got sponged off and tried to play with my while I did that. I took him to graze and he wanted to play with the puppy (or kill her, with Doodle you never know), he wanted to roll in the grass, he wanted to jump around and act like a young colt and in the end, he actually refused to come back in the barn when I asked him to. Only the largest of promised flakes of alfalfa convinced him to finally come along.

All afternoon, he kept sticking his head out of his stall to grab me while walking past, nodding his head, nickering at the girls going to the track...

By the time I fed dinner, this boy was prancing in his stall, head high, neck arched, that trademark hoarse whinny of his ' hmmmmhmmmhmmmmhmmm' going nonstop and digging at the invisible "thing" half way in the air between the ground and his feed bin.

Which leads to me ask if perhaps I should just keep those shoes in the tackroom for now and see where Doodle leads us, barefoot as he is?

Cold day. And yet I returned all warm inside and feeling like we moved ahead in leaps and bounds.

That's a stakes horse I have in my barn. Did ya know?

What a day!

2008-10-31T19:45:00.000-07:00

No, we didn't win the race. But we had a blast and Lady had a super first race experience!

She was great in the receiving barn all day. She settled down and relaxed well. It was an awful long wait for that last race. She was happy and excited going to the paddock, acted great all around.

In all the hustle, I was never able to see where she lay in the race. I kept asking, where is she?

She ran 9th. Not a great accomplishment BUT once I talked to the jockey, I was thrilled with her.

This is his report:

She got a bit nervous in the gate when one of the other horses was acting out. She broke a bit slow but really wanted to be involved. When field (moving very fast) started heading in towards the rail, she was in good contention UNTIL- sand hit her in the face. The kickback really made her shy away from the field ahead of her. I just watched the replay and you can see her head goes up and she back off. Well, this accomplished what she wished for- no more sand in her face but it also put her back far enough to be out of real contention.
But here is the good part. Once he got her settled, she really started coming on late.

I've been thinking this filly is a miler. Her owner was pretty convinced she is a short distance sprinter.
This is what Michael asked: She came on strong late, but the race was too short for her. Have you thought about trying her in, oh a mile race maybe?

I actually had to laugh because I initially wanted to put her in at Keeneland for a race on the Beard Course, which is all the way around the track from the shute and comes to roughly 7 furlongs and 183 yards. Lady's owner was worried that may be too much for her, so we waited for something shorter.

Well, I'm about to go dig around in the condition book for a 1 mile on the turf for fillies.

She came back great from the race, wasn't tired, breathing well, cooled out a good 15 minutes before the other horses in the receiving barn and dug right into her hay. She tried to be her usual impatient, wenchy self at bath time and actually tried to kick Jose (a friend of mine who I taught to gallop 2 summers ago and he comes and rides and helps out once in a while and he spent the day with us). She pranced all round the barn, wanted to play and once in her stall was acting like she wanted to go back to the track for more.

We beat 3 very nice horses by a really good margin (one of the favorites, actually) and I am mighty proud of my girl!

Wanted to post this before I get too tired. It's been a long, long day, we all had a wonderfully fun time (including the Ladybug) and we are ready to try again in a couple of weeks.

Her owner's brother video'd the race with his super nice, high tech camera and is going to send me a dvd of it. I can't wait. I will upload it and you guys can watch it. He had a much nicer angle and better zoom going than the tv cameras did, plus he focused on her, so it's a really nice video.

Is he for real?

2008-10-30T19:57:00.000-07:00

I know this is way off the subject, as far as all the excitement with Lady, but I had to share.

While at Churchill earlier this morning, I ran across this horse at the receiving barn and was completely taken aback by his color. I've seen photos of White Thoroughbreds before, but have never seen one in person.

Well, I, of course, took out my phone and asked permission to photograph this ham!

A 3 year old colt - 16.2 tall, well put together, by Pioneering out of a Hatchet Man mare. Apparently mama is a White TB, as well and has thrown 2 other White TB foals.

I looked at his race results and he didn't run well, which I was sorry to hear. This boy was so sweet and friendly and I was really rooting for him.

His name? Patchen Prince.

The Competition

2008-10-29T16:34:00.000-07:00

Friday is only a day away! Waaaaahhhh! I'm not ready! I need more time! *ruffling through hair*

Luckily, Lady is ready (this is where the huge emoticon with the big cheesy grin would go).

I need to share about our competition. The morning line odds have been published. We, along with another filly, are the longest shots. Little do they know we don't need to shoot...
Ok, ok, I'll stop. I'm giddy with excitement, can you tell?

Here is the line up:

Churchill Downs - October 31st, 2008 - Race 10
Estimated Local Post Time: 5:03 PM

Race Type: Maiden Special Weight
Breed: Thoroughbred
Age Restriction: Three Year Old and Upward
Sex: Fillies and Mares

Purse: $46,000
Distance: Six Furlongs
Surface: Dirt

Post

Horse
Jockey
Owner

Age

Sex

Weight
Trainer
Breeder

Odds

Dress in Dubai (KY)

Joe M. Johnson
Brian S. Dance

Filly

120
Michael T. Trivigno
B. S. Dance

20/1

Splash of Colour (KY)

Rene R. Douglas
Mrs. John Magnier, Michael B. Tabor and Derrick Smith

Filly

120
Todd A. Pletcher
Iron County Farms, Inc.

7/2

Esther Got Even (KY)

Julien R. Leparoux
Tomisue Hilbert and John R. Menard

Filly

120
Nicholas P. Zito
Hilbert Thoroughbreds, Inc. &Menard Thoroughbreds, Inc.

5/1

Coy Cat (KY)

Kent J. Desormeaux
Jay Em Ess Stable (Mace and Samantha Siegel)

Filly

120
Paul J. McGee
Nick Cafarchia

4/1

Elusive Sparkle (KY)

Calvin H. Borel
James B. Tafel, LLC (James B. Tafel)

Filly

120
Carl A. Nafzger
James Tafel

12/1

Sapphiresndiamonds (KY)

Shaun Bridgmohan
Courtlandt Farms (Donald A. Adam)

Filly

120
Neil J. Howard
Kilroy Throughbred Partnership

8/1

Gold 'n Brush (KY)

Corey J. Lanerie
Purdedel, LLC (Mara and Edwin Edelberg)

Filly

120
Dale L. Romans
James A. Cater Family Trust A

20/1

Yes Im Woman (FL)

Robby Albarado
Gold Mark Farm, LLC (Theodore P. Bulmahn)

Filly

120
Dallas Stewart
Rick Sutherland

3/1

One Lady's Vice (KY)

Michael J. James
William Stull

Filly

110
Tres J. Delaforce
Claude Felts

30/1

Tithe (KY)

Miguel Mena
Claiborne Farm (Seth W. Hancock)

Filly

120
Albert M. Stall, Jr.
Claiborne Farm

10/1

Thendara's Passion (KY)

Jamie Theriot
Lisa and Tommy R. Mills

Filly

120
Tommy Ray Mills
Diane T. Webb & T & L Equine

20/1

Bozena (KY)

Tracy J. Hebert
Jody Guida

Filly

120
Jared Roberts
Anthony E. Guida

30/1

Haunted Hotel (KY)

Tracy J. Hebert
Donamire Farm (Don and Mira Ball)

Filly

122
Katherine G. Ball
Donamire Farm

10/1

Laca (KY)

Julien R. Leparoux
Kenneth L. and Sarah K. Ramsey

Filly

120
Michael J. Maker
Hokuyou Farm

8/1

Are you guys reading all those names? The trainers?
Pletcher, Romans, Zito, Nafzger- we're in a race with Carl Nafzger!!!!!
Mike Maker has an also eligible on the list. AE= Also Eligible. Those horses can draw into the race if some other horse scratches. If no one else scratches, the AEs will automatically be scratched from the line up.

How about some of those owners?

Mr. & Mrs. John Magnier- those folks own Coolmore Stud. Ya'll know what that is, right?
Claiborne Farm, Kenneth and Sarah Ramsey.

This reads like a who's-who of racing.

Cept for lil' ol' us there.

Underdogs. Underdog owner. Underdog trainer. Underdog horse. Underdog jockey.

Wooof wooof woooof!!!

I'd say this is a heavenly alignment of deserving participants waiting to be rewarded by the Universe for their faith, hard work and good humor.

If Lady wins this race, I'm not even gonna die, I'm just going straight to heaven. So will her owner and our little bug boy. Lady? Well, I think she'll just take it all in stride and act like she never expected anything less. The racing news headlines will be off the charts. A barefoot horse??? No way!

If she doesn't win, well, she'll run a good race anyway, I know that much. And she'll gain a huge load of experience. And then she'll go out and win her next one. Either way, we can't lose.

Are those crosses toes I'm seeing beyond the monitor? Are they? I better! Fingers, too!

Wooof wooof wooof, watch out big dawgs, cause here we come!

Since ya asked....

2008-10-29T16:21:00.000-07:00

Ok, ok, so I can tell you guys how to watch this race for free.
But there is a hitch.
You have to absolutely hoot and holler for Lady as loud as you can. Or I'm not sharing the secret.
Deal?

One of two ways:

If you have Dishnetwork Satellite TV- (Direct TV won't work)
Channel 404 HRTV- The Horse Racing Network
They will transmit every race at Churchill Downs.
Around 4:40 pm, tune in, there should be discussion of the race coming up.
It is the 10th race, last one on the card. She'll be wearing the turquoise #9 saddle towel.
I'm dying to hear what the handicappers are going to say about her. They might not talk about her much at all. Then they'll wish they had after she runs well.
The race goes off at 5:03 pm.

If you don't have Dishnetwork, I do know you guys have a broadband internet connection, here is what you do:

Go to: Churchilldowns.com
Create an account. It's free and you can opt out of any mailings if you so wish.
Once you create your account, log in.
Click on the link along the top tabs titled "Video"

There will be a list of races along the right. Make sure you have the right race date and select Race 10. It'll play for you right there, online.
I'm not sure if they play live race videos, but this is a way to watch the race once it's over.

Remember, you are honorbound to root Lady on loudly and in the most obnoxious manner possible. Race fans are the ones who coined the phrase: "Go Baby, Go!!!!"

I'm going to be praying real hard and envisioning us in the winner's circle for the next 48 hours.

I'll put up another post in a little while about our competition. Yikes!

We're playing with the BIG DAWGS now!!!!!!!

2008-10-28T16:32:00.000-07:00

Wow.

What a day!

Crack of dawn and all- and yes, I froze the rest of my rear off- Lady kicked some butt this morning.

Unfortunately, our jockey- a bug boy (a bug is an apprentice jockey who gets a 10 lbs. weight allowance. Because of this, they place a little asterisk, a bug, next to his name in the entries) didn't come to get on Lady. Apparently, he was dumped by a horse at 6:30 a.m. and his agent sent him home to get rest and recoup because he is riding tomorrow.

Soooooo.... you guys are gonna think I've lost my mind..... I ended up putting the drunk cologne guy on her. The way I figured, all I wanted was to blow her out. Lady is the kind of horse I could put a sack of potatoes on and you couldn't screw her up. She knows what she's doing and the rider is really more of a technicality.

I did, however, give him instructions. I also got really sneaky! When I was getting her ready and was about to pick her feet, I didn't want him to see she had no shoes, so I sent him off on an errand:
"Oh, hun, would you please do me a huge favor? Would you go find Tom for me? I don't know where he went off to, but I would really appreciate it!"

Off he went and I gave this evil mwahahahaha laugh out loud and picked out Lady's barenekkid feets.

Told the guy to warm her up nicely and gallop her out a bit after the work. No whip. I don't want a huge time on her. I've been giving her nice easy works and so far we have never asked her. Period. Most works she's been held. Some works more than I would ever have liked.

Lady is so ready to go she doesn't want to stand still for anything. Head nodding, pawing, more head nodding, ear pinning, head wigging back and forth, you get the idea.
So drunk cologne guy gets on and heads out.

The siren sounds as they approach the gap. Siren means a loose horse on the track. The longer the sound lasts, the more serious the mishap. This one lasted a good few seconds. Turned out to be a couple of horses ran into each other but no one was hurt.

None of this fazes Ladybug.

I run to catch up with Tom so we can head over to the clocker's stand.

Drunk cologne guy actually seems to be doing ok. He's got a choke hold on her- head is tucked big time, she's jogging sideways very slowly. I tell Tom he screws this one up, I'm jumping down there on the track and kicking his ass! Everyone laughs. I don't know why, I was dead serious.

He heads her out towards the turn. Starts off galloping. Lady's tail is swishing up and down back and forth- she's pissed and wants to run FAST. He tries to hold her enough to give her an easy work but half way between the quarter pole and the eight pole she starts running off.

Tom and I watch her tick off horses as she goes. I'm smiling because she has so so much speed and is absolutely amazing to watch. Tom is smiling because drunk cologne guy is basically screwing up, letting her run off and he knows I'm going to read him the riot act.

He did get a hold of her a few yards before the 3F mark.

Galloped her out to 6F- either that or couldn't pull her up until then. Kept at a canter another furlong and then turned her around and let her jog back a little.

I checked in with the clocker to get her time and was relieved it wasn't as "bad" as I thought it might have been:

Horse name	One Lady's Vice
Notes
Activity type	Workout
Activity date	10-28-2008
Track	Churchill Downs
Surface	Dirt
Distance	3 Furlongs
Workout type	Breezing
Workout time	0:36.80
Track condition	Fast

She went in 36 and 4.

I head back to the receiving barn to meet her.

By the time I get there, Tom already caught her and is looking at me: "What'd she get?"
"36 and 4"
"No shit!? That's nice!"

I give him "the" look and reply loud enough for drunk cologne man to hear me:
"Yea, I really didn't want her going that fast."
Drunk cologne guy pops his head out of the stall and says:
"I swear, I NEVER asked her. She is really strong! Man, this filly can run. But I'm telling you, I NEVER asked her. Look what she did to my hands!"
And he holds out his hands, palm up. The skin is rubbed off where he held the reins.

I refrain from making a caustic comment relating to his being a sissy. Evil me.

While I walk Ladybug around, she cools out quickly, isn't breathing hard. Totally full of herself, of course. After walking for 10 minutes she decides she's had enough with walking and since I'm now on the phone with my left hand, calling the racing office to enter her for the race on Friday, she takes full advantage and drags me out of the barn to the wash rack area. I turn her back around into the barn, she turns us back around out of the barn. This tug goes on until I tell the entry clerk to hang on a second, please and use both hands to drag her back into the barn to walk. She doesn't like this at all.
Tom takes pity and jumps in to give her a few rounds so I can finish making the entry.

Since we're entered without shoes, I get to talk to the stewards to get approval. I never understood why I always have to get approved to run barefoot. It's not as if I'm declaring the use of equipment, or change of equipment, which is supposed to be why you have to get stewards' approval. I'm actually electing to NOT use a piece of equipment, which wasn't on my horse to begin with- in other words, I'm just leaving my horse "as is"- so why do I have to declare an equipment "change"? Silly, really.

Surprisingly, the entry clerk thinks I don't have to talk to the stewards. I make him transfer me anyway. I've always had to get approval a year ago, so I doubt this clerk knows what they are talking about.

Well, the steward I talk to asks what I need, I explain I just entered and running without shoes. He tells me pretty much he doesn't give a hoot. Is he for real? Is this the coolest steward on the face of the racing world???

There has been such controversy over shoes lately, toe grabs, no toe grabs, rins, no rims, injuries, etc. I'm told later that I could have entered her in high heels and they would have ok'ed me probably. Now there's a picture.

So after all the entering and giving info, we wait for Tattoo Charlie. That's not really his name but Lady needed her lip tattooed and today was the day.
Tattoo Charlie really likes Lady because she doesn't seem to think it's any sort of big deal at all. After he is done, she wipes her mouth on the stall wall. She then sticks her lip out, doing the "I smell you" gesture. Then she eats hay.

We head back to the training center after arguing with her about getting on the trailer (same routine as the out of the barn, into the barn thing, she starts walking on, then turns and goes left or right or in a circle. She doesn't do this coming to Churchill, she does it going home and I know like I know the back of my hand that she's really arguing with me:
"Nooooo, I like it HERE- I get to run fast HERE- matter of fact, let's go over to the big round track and do it again right NOW! Noooo, it's THIS way, not that way. Come on!!"

This afternoon, I find out we made it in. Huge company. Big names. We're the underdog. Underdog owner, underdog trainer, underdog horse. We drew post position 9, which gave me a weird shivery feeling of deja vu- somewhere I have seen that turquoise saddle towel on her. In a dream perhaps. The number just feels so right for her.

I have a feeling about this filly. Her owner believes she is his once in a lifetime horse. I tend to agree. We'll find out Friday in the last race at Churchill Downs.

Look out big dawgs, here we come! And we're gonna give you a huge run for your money!

Here is her entry:

Horse name	One Lady's Vice
Notes
Activity type	Entry
Activity date	10-31-2008
Track	Churchill Downs
Surface	Dirt
Distance	6 Furlongs
Race number	10
Purse	$46,000
Race type	Maiden Special Weight
Post position	9
Jockey	James M J
Race entry	http://www.drf.com/entries/31/eCD31.html#10

All horses go to heaven, right?

2008-10-27T15:34:00.000-07:00

It's friggin cold!!!! I'm freezing! Who ordered this weather anyway?
The gang all loves this. Doodle was at his best today, only he didn't try to dump Cowboy. I suspect that is because Cowboy is sick with a really bad cold. Doodle knows what's on his back. He won't endanger a rider.

The wind was whipping around the barn at 20+ mph, the temps were in the low 40's and by the time I left, I actually put blankets on everyone.

Ladybug is gearing towards a big race on Friday. Entries are tomorrow. It's a 6F Maiden Special Weight at Churchill Downs. I realized while talking to her owner yesterday that I fully expect her to kick serious ass and it never occurred to me that she might not win.

Now, that's a little bizarre, since usually when you are entering a horse, you might have a pretty good feeling that the horse will probably do well for you, but just to take it off the top like that..?

We're going in to Churchill for a last work- a nice little 3F "blowout" - get some air in her. I won't work them at the training center, the track is horrid.

As cold as it is right now, and tonight it's supposed to freeze, tomorrow morning is going to be absolutely miserable. Get up at 4:30 a.m., get her ready and loaded at 6:30 a.m., haul over to CD, all of this when it's REALLY cold. YUCK!!! Reminds me of racing last winter at Turfway Park.

Anyway, this afternoon, Ladybug went out for an easy 2.5 miles. While heading out of the barn up to the track, she stops. Rick was out there a few moments before just stopping on a horse to head back up to their barn. Big dark bay gelding who belongs to an old guy up the hill at the top barn. Nice old man, nice horse.

Lady wouldn't budge. She turned her neck and head and was looking up the track to the left, her ears playing back and forth, just staring.

Well, Rick was no longer on the horse. Someone was leading the horse, who could not really walk on his right rear leg. Rick had unsaddled him and was toting the tack up the hill, while the other guy was very slowly walking the horse out of the shute off the track.

I thought, oh shit. This isn't good. The way he won't walk on that leg, I hope he didn't break it.
Cowboy says, naw, he seemed to walk sort of still, it's probably not broken.

Lady turned around and continued up the path to the track. As an afterthought, I hollered at Cowboy: " 2-2 and 1- but real nice and easy, ok?" He gave me the thumbs up.

Lady is quite a pro. She knows exactly what she's supposed to be doing out there and relishes every bit of it. She knows she's not supposed to go fast, so she tucks her head in, grabs the bit, leans against it, ears back and I swear all that's missing is the eyes closed. She REALLY wants to go. Just take off and gogogogo. I won't let her. A little speed is ok out there but anything approaching a work speed is bad business on that surface.

She comes back and isn't even breathing. I'm mighty proud of her. I do believe she is set up perfectly for this race on Friday. We work tomorrow, she gets Wednesday off, she repeats Thursday what she did today and Friday she can blow by the competition like they're nothing.

Since it's too cold to bathe anyone, and neither of them are sweating, I just sponged the saddle area and chest a little, threw over a blankie and cooled them out grazing.

We have a vet that comes out to the training center every Monday. He's a track vet. He was making his rounds and I noticed he was at the upper barn when the hurt gelding was coming off the track already. Since I needed to get a health certificate from him for the haul tomorrow, I was hoping to catch him soon without having to outwait everyone else's turn, so that way I could feed and get out on the road before too late.

Another trainer in my barn, Lisa, needed a health certificate for her horse, as well, so she trekked up to the upper barn and offered to pick mine up, as well.

After all the other chores and blanketing everyone (an adventure in itself with 2 horses who had never had blanket on before), I fed, water off, raked the shedrow and was just done putting catfood out for Leo, my blond boyfriend (ok, so he really isn't a boyfriend but a big, huge, long haired apricot cat who adopted me about 2 months ago. He weighs a minimum 20 lbs, easily), I was just about to gather my assistant trainer (Doggins, a 7 year old Rottie who still has his tail) and the little pest (a 7 week old red Aussie puppy Anne, the trainer in back of me, had picked up out of a ditch by the side of the road) when Doc comes walking around the corner.

"Hey, you leaving already? Need anything else?"
I'm usually there until at least 6 p.m. but have been scooting things up a little with winter starting in.
"No, I'm good. Thank you!"

As I walk off, I remember to ask him about the gelding.

"Hey Doc, that gelding who broke down, is he ok?"

Doc looks sad and shakes his head. "No, he's dead. I had to put him down. He shattered his pastern."

A quick, silent prayer that this boy is in a better place now. A guilt-filled thought that, thank God it wasn't one of my horses. My heart goes out to the old guy. He really cared about this horse.

Another quick round through the barn, kissing all my babies goodnight.

Sleep tight.

Don't let the track bugs bite.

Be safe.

See you in the morning.

I love all of you.

Looking for the right home

2008-10-27T05:01:00.000-07:00

I've mentioned a filly in a previous post, Darcy, aka "Loosy Goosy".
I repo'ed her for a friend from a "buyer".

I've brought this girl's weight back up, rebroke her under saddle, started training her. She's had about a month on the track- jogging 1.5 miles and baby galloping about a half mile just to learn her balance.

Darcy needs to find a new home. Although she probably has the speed it would take to be a nice racehorse, her mind has been so warped by the "buyer", she has too many issues to go on training without hitches.

Her owner can't afford to take her back and asked that I find a good home for her.

Unfortunately, a training center is not set up for the kind of attention this little girl needs.

Ideally, she would find a person who would be willing to let her unwind and trust again. Darcy gets herself worked up into little episodes - when something worries her, it eventually gets to where it overpowers her "thinking process". She has a meltdown. When this happens, the only thing that calms her down is to be able to get back in her stall. What's missing is her yelling: "Let me back in my house!!!"

This is the kind of filly that really needs to know and trust her handler.
She does anything I ask of her, so long as I am the only one around.

She grooms, picks up her feet, lets me touch her anywhere, she bathes, she walks, leads, knows verbal commands. She rides, WTC, she knows all her ground commands, moves off pressure wonderfully. I've practiced the Parelli Seven Games with her and she knows exactly what is asked of her. She longes.

She even trust Cowboy, who rides her to the track and is very kind and patient with girls like her.

Bring in a new person and she unravels. She won't pick up her feet for the farrier. She sees a rasp and becomes absolutely terrified.

I don't know what was done to her during her month plus with the "buyer" but I do know it wasn't good.

Darcy also has a problem with nasal discharge from her left nostril. We've treated it with antibiotics, which cleared the color but not the discharge. She's had her guttural pouches flushed twice, they are completely clean. She's been scoped twice- her lungs are clean, her throat is fine, her nasal passages are fine, there is no indication of cysts, growths, abscesses or anything else of the sort.
The two vets who have examined her both believe the discharge is a result of needing to be vaccinated- they call it the baby snots. She has had one shot so far and needs to continue going through being vaccinated so that this discharge may clear up.
If it doesn't, she would probably need xrays of her head to see if there is something more serious going on that is causing this discharge.
It isn't contagious to other horses, or humans.

This sweet filly needs to find her person.
She has beautiful gaits, lots of suspension, a nice forward mover.

Her pedigree is very different:

SEA DAR (USA) dkb/br. F, 2005 DP = 3-3-8-0-0 (14) DI = 2.50 CD = 0.64

STARSHIP SEMINOLE (VEN) b. 1996	PLAY ON (USA) blk/br. 1981	STOP THE MUSIC (USA) b. 1970	HAIL TO REASON (USA) br. 1958 [C]	TURN-TO (IRE)	b. 1951 [BI]
				NOTHIRDCHANCE (USA)	b. 1948
			BEBOPPER b. 1962	TOM FOOL (USA)	b. 1949 [IC]
				BEBOP (FR)	b. 1957
		LITTLE TOBAGO (USA) ch. 1971	IMPRESSIVE (USA) dkb/br. 1963	COURT MARTIAL (GB)	ch. 1942 [B]
				HIGH VOLTAGE (USA)	gr. 1952 *
			BUSHFIELD (USA) ch. 1961	JET PILOT (USA)	ch. 1944
				MISS BUSHER (USA)	ch. 1949
	BEDROOM WINDOW (USA) dkb/br. 1985	LINKAGE (USA) b. 1979	HOIST THE FLAG (USA) b. 1968 [BI]	TOM ROLFE (USA)	b. 1962 [CP]
				WAVY NAVY (USA)	b. 1954
			UNITY HALL (USA) b. 1968	CYANE (USA)	b. 1959
				RUM BOTTLE BAY (USA)	b. 1959
		GUICHET (USA) dkb/br. 1973	JACINTO (USA) br. 1962	BOLD RULER (USA)	br. 1954 [BI]
				CASCADE (GB)	dkb/br. 1951
			CROQUET (USA) gr. 1961	COURT MARTIAL (GB)	ch. 1942 [B]
				KITTEN (USA)	gr. 1956
GLOWING PRINCESS (USA) b. 1996	GLOMAR (USA) b. 1987	HALO (USA) blk/br. 1969 [BC]	HAIL TO REASON (USA) br. 1958 [C]	TURN-TO (IRE)	b. 1951 [BI]
				NOTHIRDCHANCE (USA)	b. 1948
			COSMAH (USA)* b. 1953	COSMIC BOMB (USA)	b. 1944
				ALMAHMOUD (USA)	ch. 1947 *
		OUT COLD (USA) b. 1970	ETONIAN (USA) b. 1954	OWEN TUDOR (GB)	br. 1938
				WINDSOR WHISPER (IRE)	br. 1945
			ARTICANA (USA) ch. 1960	ARCTIC PRINCE (IRE)	br. 1948
				NATO (GB)	ch. 1953
	PRINCESS TALI (USA) ch. 1990	TALINUM (USA) ch. 1984	ALYDAR (USA) ch. 1975 [C]	RAISE A NATIVE (USA)	ch. 1961 [B]
				SWEET TOOTH (USA)	b. 1965 *
			WATER LILY (FR) dkb/br. 1976	RIVERMAN (USA)	br. 1969 [IC]
				FIRST BLOOM (GB)	b. 1969
		BRILLIANT THOUGHT (USA) 1971	T. V. LARK (USA) b. 1957 [I]	INDIAN HEMP (GB)	ch. 1949
				MISS LARKSFLY (USA)	br. 1948
			PUDDING LANE (USA) b. 1961	DECATHLON (USA)	b. 1953
				MBALE (GB)	ch. 1945

She is an outcross, obviously- with her closest inbreeding to Hail to Reason several generations back.
She's a little long in her pasterns, which is not causing her any problems with soundness, has great feet (she is barefoot) and probably would have been better off had she been built a little less straight in her front, being a little bit back at the knees. Again, this has not been any problem for her soundness wise.

Her papers are in order and whoever would like to take this girl home must absolutely provide references and keep in touch with me about her progress.

She is free to the right person. If you or anyone you know is seriously interested in taking her on as a project, please contact me via email.

Is he feeling good, or what!??

2008-10-25T20:57:00.000-07:00

Today was one of those brisk, windy and sunny days. Doodle had a day off yesterday- as did everyone else, because we got "rained out". I know, I know, rained out is for sissies. But it wasn't my fault. Cowboy, my exercise rider called me super early to tell me that the track is shit, totally washed out and under water in places. No one is training and he's heading home.

Fine. I'll have another cup of coffee before I get all bundled up and head to work. Some mornings work out great that way, don't they?

Well, the rains stopped. Good thing, too. It's been getting way too chilly too fast these last few days. Just when you get used to the 90 degree weather with the 90% humidity, guzzling gallons of water, someone decides summer is over and here comes fall. Only fall seems to be jumping right into winter here. I guess I'm still spoiled from the years of living down south. I'd rather bake any day than freeze my buns off.

So this morning, I was expecting a load of shavings. But since I could no longer store them in an empty stall, I had to find a different place to dump them. Which required my buying a huge tarp. Which put me behind schedule by 10 minutes. Which I knew would happen, therefore I called my Shavings people and left a voicemail early to let them know.

When I arrive at the barn, I see MY shavings being dumped at the OTHER side of the barn by ANOTHER trainer's shedrow. Grrrrrrrrrrr there goes the slow mo, easy mood.

"Oh I'll come back in a coupla hours with another load" the man tells me.
In the meantime, Rick, the other trainer is grinning at me:
"I didn't mean to steal your load of shavings..."
"The hell you didn't! What were you thinking?"

He laughs and promises to make up for it. As if he has anything I might want or need.

I get to working on Doodle's stall, still grumbling over how this is going to put me behind a couple of hours and how I really wanted to make it home by 5:30 pm to see the Breeder's Cup Turf and Classic when Cowboy sticks his head around the corner and says:
"You're next! Get Doodle ready! I'll be right back!" and out of the shedrow he rides on Anne's frisky little gelding (this little horse has run two seconds in MSW races back to back and Anne thought the first time he was in way over his head. The boy went off at 86-1 and came in second! I was a shouting fool, watching him on tv)

I yell back- "Nooooo- take another one first. I need more time so that I don't have to run myself ragged not having everything ready by the time you get back with Doodle."

While Cowboy's out there, the Russian rolls in.

Ha! I'm saved. Cowboy will have to go do some other bizarre shit for the guy probably, so I have more than enough time to finish the stall, get the bath water ready (no, I don't do the fence tying, hosing and drip drying thing, sorry).

Cowboy gets back, gets on Doodle.
There are days when Doodle is walking out of the shedrow and slowly up to the track, alert, looking around, ready to do his exercise routine. There are days when Doodle is supposed to walk out of the shedrow to the track and just stops- looking left and right across the drive, putting off going out there, but still in a happy mood, at which point I usually literally get behind him and push with both hands and all my weight (I tell you, this has elicited some real laughs on part of other trainers).
Then there are days when Doodle is so happy that he can't wait to get out there.

Today was one of those days.

Going up the path to the track, a horse was coming down the stretch and Doodle rears up and bucks, spins and wheels and whinnies his loud, very hoarse stallion whinny and wants to take off.
Cowboy is arguing with him and gets him back in hand.
He goes out there and once he starts jogging, he's collected, pushing forward and arguing with Cowboy to let him have his head.
This usually means- Dude, I want to run, just get off or let me run with you on top.

But today's routine isn't calling for all out running. Jog a mile and a half, gallop a mile. Let him have fun but make sure he uses his whole body.

See, Doodle is one of these epically lazy horses. Whatever least amount of effort he will get away with, is what he will put forth. To see him put something like real energy and enthusiam into going, is a very joyful moment.

After the jogging part is over, they come into the near turn. Doodle all of a sudden grabs the bit out of Cowboy's hands and goes to take off like he's coming out of a starting gate. Holy mackerell, when that doesn't work out to his plans, he tries to wheel on him and dump him.
Not! Cowboy gets him back in hand.

In the meantime, Anne and I are watching and commenting on how well the Doodlebug is moving out. He is feeling good and it's obvious to any onlooker.

As the galloping gets underway more calmly, I figure, well, let me make sure I have everything ready. I step around the corner back to my shedrow and bath area.

When I come back, Cowboy is on his way back off the track with Doodle. As they approach, I can tell Cowboy is talking but I can't tell what he is saying. He comes across the drive and looks at me- Doodle looks extremely self-satisfied, Cowboy is red in the face:
"You know what? He is a common asshole!"

Anne and I both start laughing.

"No, seriously, did you see all that shit he tried to pull out there? He is an asshole! He thought he had one of these kids you teach to gallop on his back! Asshole!"

And as he enters the barn to give him a turn:

"A COMMON asshole!"

Well. What do you say to that? I'm trying not to smile. I go in and catch Doodle, put his halter on and whisper to him how well he did, how proud I am of him. Cowboy can't hear this. Good thing, too.

But Doodle hears it. He always hears me. While I bathe him by myself (he just stands there for me not being tied), I continue praising my boy and while I dry his face off with the sponge, I give him a big kiss on the side of his muzzle, grab his huge head in my arms as he rubs it against me and tell him:
Gosh, I just loooooooove you, you bestest bestest racehorse in the whole world, you!

Funny how the harried mood I started the morning off with completely changed simply by my horse showing me the wonderful mood he was in.

Rest of the day went just peachy.

Thank you, Doodle.

Pity the fools who actually pay humans for therapy sessions....

The Russian

2008-10-25T18:33:00.000-07:00

The Russian

This man showed up about a month ago with 3 (or maybe it was 4) horses. Their coats all caked in dirt, right out of the pasture apparently. He rolled in with a big rig, hauling a stock trailer. Yup, you read right, a real Big Rig. Like the ones truckers drive?
Well, he comes in on weekends, sticks his 3 horses in the three stalls he's been renting. Then he gets Cowboy to take them out there and work them.
When I say work, I mean "official" work. A timed event. From the gate, too.

These horses we jokingly call the Russian Quarterhorses. They all have diarrhea- they walk around the shedrow and invariably leave a trail of the nastiest diarrhea poop right smack in MY shedrow. They're ungroomed. No shoes, no trim, just out of the pasture into the trailer, over to the training center. Apparently the diarrhea is a direct result of a full bucket of whole corn given to each horse as soon as they are put in their stalls. I'm absolutely amazed that these guys don't friggin keel over dead or colicking as soon as they come back from the track.

After they run around the track like persued by a swarm of killer bees (and surprisingly they do actually have quite a bit of stamina and speed although they don't look it), Cowboy comes back to the barn, hands the horse over to the Russian who does the most bizarre thing.
Well, let me back up. Since he's been sending them in pairs, Rick (another rider and actually a starter- one of the guys that works the starting gates at the racetrack) usually gets on one of the others and so there are two horses coming back together.

The Russian ties both horses to the fence across the driveway from the barn. He then gets the hose and group hoses them off. Then they stay tied to the fence until they sort of drip dry. After which, he unties both of them at the same time and walks ahead of them to the stalls. These horses just follow him like little puppy dogs and go into their stalls.

I'm usually not the type of person to judge others. We've speculated that this man must be doing something to train these horses back at home, wherever that is. Perhaps he chases them around the pasture with a 4 wheeler. Or he might actually get someone to gallop them regularly. He says he's on the road with his rig all week. Who knows. Or maybe he's a horse whisperer and has them trained so well, that hey! they train themselves while he is gone on the road!?

Bizarre, to be sure. But they seem happy with him. They obviously trust him.
Go figure...

Just sick!

2008-10-24T19:39:00.000-07:00

I just read a report sent by a friend who frequents the Sugarcreek Livestock auction in Ohio.
It made me sick to my stomach.

No matter how many times I see horses sent to slaughter auctions, each and every time, it makes me sick all over.

What is so wrong with mankind that they have to use everything and then discard it? Ever think humans are more like parasites than mammals? It's true. We use up everything around us. We suck what we need right out of it and then we move on to our next target. Parasites.
In the process we generally don't clean up after ourselves, either.
So, to be sure, not only do we use, abuse and suck dry every living thing around us, we make absolutely sure that we take a huge dump in the environment to top it off.

How proud are we to be called human.

What a joke!

So I'm thinking there is something I can do about some of these parasitic individuals who call themselves trainers. They give those of us who care for our charges a bad name. They should not be allowed to train horses, let alone be near horses.
I think the whole world should know who they are, by name.
Every one of these greedy, pathetic excuses for human beings should be exposed for all the world to see just what kind of "human" they really are.

Day after day, every single day, I go muck stalls, feed horses, make sure they are healthy, have everything they need, clean buckets, tubs.... how many times have I thought I could sure use a day off.
But I don't get a day off. Because I've made a commitment. When I decided to spend my life training horses, I committed myself to these awesome creatures 100%.
Seven days a week, 365 days a year, I work. If I'm going to make a living off racing these horses, then I'm going to make damned sure that they have everything they need, are taken care of to the very best of my abilites, heck of anyone's abilities.
No ifs, ands or buts about it.

They are the only reason I can provide a roof over my child's head. They are the only reason my bills are paid. They are the only reason there is food on our table. I think I owe them, not just something, but everything.

So how is it that there are trainers out there who race horses, who then don't do well (and let me tell you, they probably don't run well because their trainers have no clue what they are doing) and when they don't do well enough times, they get sent off on a trailer to the kill auction.
What is it these people actually think when they do this? Do any of them have a conscience?

What kind of lack of intelligence and integrity does it take for a person to do such a thing? Was it simply something lacking in their upbringing? Did they just have terrible parents who neglected to teach them the simplest of things about life?
Or are they just mentally challenged and their minds can't grasp simple concepts such as life, respect, care, gratefulness?

I don't know what kind of idiot it takes to be that kind of person. I can't imagine ever being that kind of person.

I do know one thing to be true: Every one of them is going to a place no one wants to go.

So I've decided to compile a list of names of trainers who are known to have sent their horses to the killers. This list will be publicly available on a website for anyone to see if they so wish.

So next time a prospective owner might think of googling the name of a trainer they are considering to train their horse, they might actually get the truth about some of these despicable individuals.

RIP Don't Jinx It - 2004 chestnut gelding by Chullo (ARG) out of Notanother Natalie
RIP Sagres - 2005 colt by Patton out of Tami Be Good

Neither could be saved from the Sugarcreek Auction this last Friday. Both were taken by the kill buyer for slaughter.

My heart just hurts thinking of these poor souls, who only ever expected the very best from their humans.

Everyone is an expert

2008-10-17T17:52:00.000-07:00

Thought I would throw this up here since it's been an ongoing problem for me, training-wise.
The training center here only has a 1/2 mile track. The surface leaves much to be desired.
You can walk out there and be calf deep by the rail, step 2-3 feet over and the track is fast. It's uneven as can be.
My string is all barefoot. I have a wonderfully talented filly "Ladybug" who was sent to me this summer as a 3 year old. She had been in training last year, was doing great and then had an accident and hurt her shoulder. So she was off and rehabbing for a year. The owner had seen a story in Bloodhorse Magazine about a win I had with another "problem" horse (at odds of 66-1, which is food for another post another day) and tracked my number down through the racing office.
He says he's got this filly they would like to give another try and asks me about my training methods. Which I tell him. So then we talk about trivial stuff such as dayrate (sarcasm intended) and he tells me that he'll call me back and let me know if he is going to bring her to me.

I didn't hold my breath. As a trainer, people tell ya all the time- "Oh, I'm sending you a horse". If I held my breath every time someone tells me that, I'd be blue in the face. Permanently.
I went about my business and at around 5 pm in the afternoon, I got another call from this gentleman.
"I'm going to bring her to you."
"Great, when did you have in mind?"
"Well, I'll be there tonight- late, but tonight."

Wow! Holy Moly, talk about scrambling to get another stall ready!

In any case, Ladybug has been here since and is doing great. One of the things I was told about her was that she had a lot of foot issues and problems last year. My response of "don't worry, you brought her to the right trainer" didn't elicit much confidence at the time.

The next day, I checked out her feet. Other than flare all around her toes and quarters, I couldn't find anything wrong with them. I whipped out my rasp and got rid off the flare.
Lady has rock solid hooves, I've never even seen her take an ouchy step on gravel or asphalt, even at a jog.

So now here I have this extremely well bred filly in my barn, who has a ton of speed and talent and after conditioning for 2-3 months is ready for her first official work.

Did I mention the terrible track surface at our training center? I wasn't about to work her there. So off we went to Churchill Downs.

When you ship in to train, unless you bring a rider with you, you may or may not have good luck finding one to get on your horse. I happened to be the only ship-in trainer that day and eventually, after having been stood up by a jockey's agent who has a bug boy on his client list, asked the security guard at the gate to page any available freelance rider to come to the receiving barn.

About 10 minutes later, this guy shows up. He looks clean, smells sober and talks like civilized person, so tell him about my filly, what it is I am looking for with her and some of her habits, etc.
He follows instructions well, takes her out there and gives her a nice, solid 3F work from the gate.

When he comes back, he tells me "Wow, I've been on some nice horses, and this one here, this is a RACEHORSE!"

This of course is music to my ears- hearing from someone else something that you already knew about your horse as a trainer, is absolutely one of the greatest feelings of accomplishment you can experience.
Throughout the conversation, he asks whether I will have some shoes on her next time I bring her back.

If you guys don't already know this, the backside of the racetrack is one of the places where you will constantly hear: "Horses can't run without shoes. They have no traction. Their feet can't stand up to the pounding. Their hooves will wear away from the sandy surface."
Believe me, I have heard them all.

I come from a background of having restored founder for a few years before getting my trainer's license. I trim my own horses. I probably know more about feet than any 20 people put together on the backside of any racetrack.

When I hear stuff like that, I just walk away. There is no point in having a discussion with someone about something they obviously have no clue about. Years ago I used to waste my breath and get into these "but it's better for them to be barefoot" conversations, not anymore.
I don't have the time to educate every ignoramus out there. The internet is a wonderful thing.
Look it up, read up on it, then come talk to me.

So, back to the story at hand, I basically told the guy that I probably would not have shoes on her next time, either. No problem, he says, he'd love to get on her again.

So the following week, we ship in for a 4F work. We're also supposed to get Lady's gate card.
So first, the guy isn't answering his phone in the morning when I call to make sure he'll meet us there. Then when he does show up, he's late. Tom, the gentleman who hauls us in for training, takes one look at him and rolls his eyes, then tells me, the guy is a chicken and he's not going to do what you ask him to. Oh, and that he looks like he had a rough night.

Great. Well, let's give him the benefit of the doubt.
Lady's owner is there for this work. We're all really looking forward to this second work.
She goes out there, breaks well from the gate and works.
Not the way I expected. Not the way even Tom expected. We sort of looked at each other and both went- hmm, that didn't look like her running style.

Well, of course it didn't. He was holding her. Wouldn't let her have her run. Never once gave her her head all the way. Pulls her up after the work instead of letting her gallop out like I asked and comes back to the barn.

"Um, she got a little tired, so I pulled her up. She seemed like she ran out of breath."

Excuse me? Out of breath? This filly trains 3.5 miles everyday except for Sundays, and you're telling me a half a mile and she ran out of breath?

Ok, benefit of the doubt and all, but the nagging little thought kept rearing itself in my head: He's afraid because she has no shoes on. I say nothing and we part company.
I think to myself, well, maybe she had a bad day, which after that work and not being able to run the way she really wanted to, she actually did. The poor girl was downright depressed.

We go home, spirits dulled a bit by not having our expectations fullfilled but that's racing, you move on to another day and try again.

A couple of days later, I ship in with two others of my string, both barefoot, for their first works.
Again, the guy is late. Matter of fact, he is so late that I end up putting someone else on the first horse. Unfortunately, this filly (The Spicemeister) is one of those very stubborn babies who will only do something if she thinks it was HER idea. Apparently this guy, who had tried to cover up his late night with a bottle by overuse of cologne, somehow couldn't figure out the instructions he was given. Matter of fact, both Tom and I kept looking around the track from the clocker's tower to see where she was and never saw her. Neither did the clocker. No official time.
Getting back to the barn, we see he is already back with her. She isn't breathing like she even jogged. "I just couldn't get her to go".

Gee, thanks a bunch.

Then the rider from the last two works shows up and gets on the gelding. This boy we know can run. He's one of those ADHD personalities who won't walk straight to save his life, head turning this way and that, looking at this and that, looking anywhere but where he is going. But when it comes to running, you better watch out. He LOVES to compete. He absolutely does not like another horse passing him.
So the guy gets on him, I say nothing about the fact that he has no shoes on.
He goes out there and starts warming him up. I'm in the clocker's tower talking to the clocker.
He passes the 1/8 pole. No increase in speed.
Ok, maybe he wants to REALLY warm him up, right?
WRONG!
He proceeds to gallop past us for the second time, at which point now the clocker is leaning out of the window yelling: "Ok, right here- let him go! Switch his leads! Hell, do SOMETHING!!!"

Amazing. No work, no time. The guy comes back and tells me some story about well, he couldn't find his feet. He really needs shoes on. It's a really deep track out there.
I'm gritting my teeth, trying to refrain from making a caustic comment.
He goes on his way. Good riddence, I say. No point in arguing, I just won't use the guy again.

Tom is laughing. "I told you he is a chicken s@#%".
Yea yea, coulda shoulda woulda. Hindsight is 20/20.

What gets me about everyone one of these riders is that they will all say the same thing- can't find traction, can't run hard, etc etc. Thing about that is that 99.9% of them have NEVER, not once, EVER galloped a horse barefoot at a racetrack. They simply repeat what they have heard. Clueless.

So, yes, everyone is an expert at the backside.

The Stars

2008-10-17T17:13:00.000-07:00

Thought I would introduce some of my athletes.
First there is Doodle. Doodle is the most amazing racehorse in the world.
Well, he is to me.
The Doodle has been with me for going on 4 years. I picked him up out of the kill pen at a slaughter sale. His feet were broken down pretty bad.
Come to find out, he had actually raced with much promise, run in Allowance and even a Stakes race. I knew none of this when I took him home. The poor boy was having a tough time with those feet.
I went to work restoring his feet. Tracked down his medical history. He had had laminitis and a coffin joint infection, all while he was racing. Small wonder he didn't win any of those big races.

Over the last couple of years I thought I could bring him back to racing. But something always came up and the way I figured, if he wanted to train and race, he'd let me know.
Well, he's been in training since January. Barefoot. He is bred for the turf yet was never run on the turf. If this boy makes it to the races, they'll be turf races.

Then there is Darcy. I repo'ed her for a friend from a guy who bought her at the training center where I am stabled. She was a mental wreck. She had had 90 days training before arriving here but the guy who bought her stuck her in a stall for over a month and didn't do anything with her. By the time I picked her up and brought her to my barn, the poor thing was shaking with fear and anxiety. She's come a long way since, and has actually been going to the track for almost 2 weeks. Once in a while, Darcy is too comfy in her stall and no amount of coaxing and nudging will get her out of "bed".

We'll see how she progresses. I've talked to a friend of mine about maybe taking her on for a few months to see if she can fine-tune her training a little. Loosy-Goosy (that's her nickname) tends to be a bit on the nervous side. She likes to know the person who is messing about with her, whether that's a rider or a groom or whoever. If she doesn't know you, you're not touching her. She also won't behave well for just anyone. This is definitely one horse who absolutely knows if someone likes her or not.

There are another 4 horses in my barn that I will write about over the weekend.

In the meantime, if anyone is reading this blog and has ideas or input about what they would like to hear about, please give me a shout! I'm new to this blogging thing and as far as I'm concerned, one can never get enough advice.

A Day in the Life....

2008-10-16T18:33:00.000-07:00

... of a Thoroughbred trainer!
I know you all are just dying to read the day-to-day happenings of a racing stable. The excitement is to die for. My charges are all wonderful, talented, well behaved athletes.

All kidding aside, I operate a small string of Thoroughbred racers. I'm pretty much a one woman operation, so there is never a lack of work with six charges in the barn.

I love my job. Getting to live your dream is quite a wonderful feeling. There is nothing like being your own boss and running things in exactly the way you see fit.
Before I hung my own shingle, I worked for some very reputable trainers. And as well as the horses were treated, I still thought about the things that I would do differently. So I finally decided I'd had enough and went out on my own.

Right off the bat, I'm not your typical Thoroughbred trainer. I do many things very differently, from everyday care to training to how my guys are treated. I believe in kindness and patience. I believe that each horse is an individual and needs to be treated as such. My guys are spoiled, yes, but they are also well behaved (for the most part), don't get man-handled and expect kindness from the people around them.

I also keep them barefoot (no shoes). I'm a firm believer that barefoot is better. Now, I have had horses with shoes on, in the past. I've run with shoes in the past. And I won't say that I'll never do it again. It all depends on the horse. Right now, all horses in my barn are barefoot. So long as it's working for them, they will stay that way.

For now, this is all the excitement I can drum up for a post. I'll make an effort and post again tomorrow and start putting up some posts that describe what we do every day.

Hey, who knows, there might be some who are interested in how I run my barn and operation?
I figure I'll just get started and let this blog take on a life of its own.