The Road Goes Ever On and On

Part of trying to have fun with horses this summer has involved a long stretch of playing at the racetrack. I have always loved thoroughbreds and have no illusions of a budget allowing for made warmbloods, so I thought it was in my best interests to learn the ins and outs of the backside for that eventual day when I needed a new ride. It's not glamorous--I spent my early mornings brushing, washing, and cleaning stalls. I put horses on the walker and watched them go around the track.

Rocking a huge noseband

It's been educational for sure. I have loved interacting with a whole different set of the horse industry and seeing what it looks like for a horse to earn a living. I've also been able to observe how different horses respond to life under pressure. One horse in the barn I work/play at stood out to me. He was always calm and quiet. He dealt with new hazards in stride and didn't get agitated over silly things.

So I asked about him. He was a 2005 model TB out of California. He's a bit older and likely on his way to retirement. After some discussions with his racing connections, I figured that this fall, when he was done racing, if he was still sound, and if Cuna didn't seem to be improving, I would look him up.






And life went on as normal. I came to the track as often as I could and helped with the horses. I didn't pay too much attention to him beyond giving him neck scratches when I was early, which established that he was a personable horse. Plus he'd nicker to me when I showed up, which was adorable.

Hanging out on a race night

And then it happened. Last Thursday, I showed up at the track in the morning. The trainer greeted me with this: "Hey, your horse is retired. You can pick him up any time before the end of the meet."

I was a bit dumbstruck. It was certainly not how I expected anything to go. I mumbled something about needing to get the pieces in place and went about my day. I mean... I hadn't even mentioned to my husband that it was a remote possibility. I had nowhere to keep him. Plus, I'd been running budgets to see if two was even possible and while it was, I hadn't decided I really wanted to do it yet.

But what do you do? He was sane and sound with decent feet and an excellent personality. I certainly didn't come to the track to get a horse, but when this one fell in my lap, I couldn't say no.

Too cute

I talked to my husband, who was hesitantly supportive. It helps that I had already worked through numbers and scenarios (and pay my own horse expenses), so I was confident that I could do it. I scheduled a meeting with the owner of my proposed boarding facility for the following night after work and crossed my fingers that everything would fall into place.

And then I got a call from the trainer. "The trailer's here. Where can I drop him off?" he asked.

"Uh..."

We got things sorted out, but the trainer needed the horse out of his stall sooner rather than later. I assured him I'd have it done before the end of the weekend and made it through the workday in something of a dazed stupor. I was late to the meeting with the facility owners. They couldn't have been more accommodating and gracious, and thought it was perfectly fine that I wanted to drop a horse they didn't know straight from the track off at their house the following morning. Whew. Squeezed in to our dream facility.

Of course, Redheadlins and I followed that up with the most logical move possible: PHOTOSHOOT AT THE TRACK. (Her idea, actually. I was all about trying to not be a total dork in front of the race people, but who can resist pretty bridles?)

Without further ado...

Dayum.

Meet Absolute Courage, pedigree here.

Vitals:
16.1 TB gelding
Light bay with a stripe
A buddy chewed his tail off this winter.

He was lovely for our shoot, posing politely and not even complaining too much about how confusing it was that we kept switching and adjusting bridles and taking him out and putting him back in and completely throwing off his whole routine.

Even though I already knew him from being around him, I was impressed. Cuna wouldn't have been thrilled with so much variation from established norms and this guy was just fine with it.

He was happy when it was over though

It still didn't feel real to me. I saw him at the track the next morning and he was his usual self. The trainer referred to him as my horse again and it all just seemed weird and oddly trance-like.I went to the tack store to pick up essentials (fly spray, lead rope, feed) and a man with a trailer met me there and followed me to the new facility. He unloaded, led him into a small dylot, and took the halter off. As he walked away, I stared at the little bay horse. Who was mine.

A giant stall

The first thing he did was lose a shoe. That made him feel a little more mine--he's already costing money. Woohoo?

After about five minutes of trotting and leaping, he settled right down and figured out the best rolling place, the water tank, and the feeder. We moved him into his stall for the night.

Looking cute in his wraps

I was out first thing Sunday morning. He had polished off his hay overnight and was rather confused as to why he didn't have a huge bucket of grain to wake up to. Regardless, I groomed him, wrapped him, and off we went. We just did some easy in hand exercises--walking and halting and yielding his shoulders in the arena. Any time he wanted to get distracted, I asked him to do something.

Loving the field

Wouldn't you know, he was lovely. Focused, calm, gaining confidence. Eeek! I pulled out a ground pole and walked him over it a few times. Then I was running short on time, so I took him out to handgraze a few minutes. He didn't even make it into the field. He just dropped his head and started devouring grass as soon as he could reach it. Pretty sure we can turn him out soon. 

Retired race horse meets retired jumping horse

His final adventure for the day was getting turned out in a small dry lot with horses across the fence from him. He wasn't sure of what to make of it, but by the time I left it looked like they were going to be friends.

Needless to say, I'm both excited and terrified. I think the excitement will win out. He's a super cool horse and I am just thrilled to have him with me.

He's already good at posing

The only thing I'm not thrilled about is his barn name. On the backside, he was known as "Big Papa". I don't love it, so I'm calling him "new horse" for the time being, but encouraging everyone I know to think up something else. He has such a cool personality. He needs a cool name. Suggestions in the comments?