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?
Monday, January 5, 2009
Monday, December 29, 2008
Fat ones, fast ones, slow ones and boxers
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?
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?
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Darcy has a new home!
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.
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.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
The results are in
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!
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!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Here we go again!
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:
Post time is 2:09 pm. Please wish us the best racing luck!
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 | ||
| 1 |
| 3 | Filly | 120 William I. Mott Summerwind Farm | 8/1 | ||
| 2 |
| 3 | Filly | 120 John Glenney Mark Dedomenico LLC | 5/1 | ||
| 3 |
| 3 | Filly | 120 Charles Lopresti 4-D Stables | 30/1 | ||
| 4 |
| 3 | Filly | 120 James A. Dodgen Cypress Creek, LLC &Equine Farm Management, Inc. | 15/1 | ||
| 5 |
| 3 | Filly | 120 Michelle Nihei J. D. Squires | 4/1 | ||
| 6 |
| 3 | Filly | 120 John Good Haller Stables, Ltd. | 15/1 | ||
| 7 |
| 3 | Filly | 120 Dallas Stewart Overbrook Farm | 7/2 | ||
| 8 |
| 3 | Filly | 120 Tres J. Delaforce Claude Felts | 30/1 | ||
| 9 |
| 3 | Filly | 120 Fred Seitz Bradyleigh Farms Inc. | 5/1 | ||
| 10 |
| 3 | 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!
Monday, November 17, 2008
Can you say COLD?
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.....
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!
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."
Without those shoes!
Monday, November 10, 2008
That's a stakes horse. Is that a stakes horse???
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?
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?
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