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summer_jackelI started the day pretty sad, and the horses tend to pretty much cure that. Bey is at the usual summer pasture; Tami and Dancer are at a new place that my mom found, which I think will work out really well. It's a seriously funky old place inhabited by seriously funky people, but I can work with that, and the pasture is well fenced and very lush, and the board dirt cheap. My beasts seem happy there. The best part, though, is that it is riding distance to the Russian River, so there's not only a lot of room to ride, it's *pretty* and I have it largely to myself. Riding along the deep green river, watching mergansers, green herons, mallards, kildeer and jackrabbits with the mare who has been my dear companion for 18 years, I felt so incredibly blessed, so happy, and so grateful. It was a fantastic day. I feel like I finally did something appropriately wonderful for Beltane.
I also bridled Dancer for the first time...big, big step, that. He was all 'huh WTF is this thing in my mouth?!' for awhile, but after some ground work just packing the bit he was pretty much ignoring it. Next step is to teach him to listen to it from the ground, but I think I may get him an even gentler rubber snaffle than the copper snaffle I had him in today before I put any pressure on that tender little mouth. I'm waiting for him to fill out a little, but I'm expecting to ride him for the first time in late summer. I am, of course, VERY EXCITED about this, but it's important not to rush a young horse too fast (more on that later). After all, barring disaster and mishap, Dancer will be my steed into my 60's. Last thing I want to do is rush him into work that's too hard for his young body. But yes, Dancer's first experience with a bit was positive and uneventful, which is as it should be. It was a *happy* day.
Then I came home and read of this tragedy: the filly who came in second at the Kentucky Derby today broke her ankles at the finish line and died on the track.
You had a beautiful heart, Eight Belles.
It's a dramatic accident, and yes, athletes of any species can suffer mishaps. Racing horses is not inherently cruel; the thoroughbred is bred to do it, after all, and the good ones, viz. racing, are very competitive animals who love it. I DO have major problems with horse racing as it exists now, all of which I won't outline, but the worst, IMHO, is how *young* they run those horses. Racehorses are started on the track at two; with very rare exceptions, their careers are over at five. As a horse person, I have never, ever understood this. A two year old horse of any breed is a baby. Its bones are still growing. Dancer is *three* and I'm just starting him; he won't be ready for any strenuous riding until he's four, and any riding I do on him this year will be very light. Granted that Arabs (and crosses therewith) are small and slow to mature; a thoroughbred or other big ol' hoss is ready to safely start at two if it's done thoughtfully. By *start*, I mean careful, gentle, low impact work. Racing is about as high impact as it gets. There aren't many more difficult things you can ask of a horse.
Those horses come off the track physically and psychologically broken. Some of them have great careers post-track and can be retrained to do lots of fun stuff, but many of them are ruined. And they don't have to be. Start a racehorse at three or four and sure, maybe it wouldn't be *quite* as fast, and yes the people running them would make a little less profit because they'd have to let the colts pasture for another year...but seriously, you'd see a lot fewer injuries. It's such a small price to pay for the suffering of so many extraordinary and magnificent animals. And come on, two spectacular fatalities in...three years? at the Derby is not good press, and can only harm the sport. You'd have horses with fewer injuries and longer track-time if they were started 3-4 and retired at 7-8!
OK, end soapbox. I'll leave you with the lyrics to Joan Baez' version of 'Stewball the racehorse', with her added last verse celebrating the on-track death of the great Ruffian, as a sort of on-line wake for Eight Belles.
Stewball was a good horse, he wore his head high,
and the mane on his foretop, was fine as silk thread.
I rode him in England, I rode him in Spain,
and I never did lose, boys, I always did gain.
So come all you gamblers, wherever you are,
and don`t bet your money on that little grey mare.
Most likely she`ll stumble, most likely she`ll fall,
but never you`ll lose, boys, on my noble Stewball.
As they were a-riding, `bout halfway round,
that grey mare she stumbled, and fell on the ground.
And way out yonder, ahead of them all,
came a-prancing and a-dancing, my noble Stewball.
Stewball was a race horse, and by the day he was mine,
he never drank water, he always drank wine.
Oh the grey mare was a racehorse, and her heart it was gold
She lies dead on the infield
but her story's been told.
I also bridled Dancer for the first time...big, big step, that. He was all 'huh WTF is this thing in my mouth?!' for awhile, but after some ground work just packing the bit he was pretty much ignoring it. Next step is to teach him to listen to it from the ground, but I think I may get him an even gentler rubber snaffle than the copper snaffle I had him in today before I put any pressure on that tender little mouth. I'm waiting for him to fill out a little, but I'm expecting to ride him for the first time in late summer. I am, of course, VERY EXCITED about this, but it's important not to rush a young horse too fast (more on that later). After all, barring disaster and mishap, Dancer will be my steed into my 60's. Last thing I want to do is rush him into work that's too hard for his young body. But yes, Dancer's first experience with a bit was positive and uneventful, which is as it should be. It was a *happy* day.
Then I came home and read of this tragedy: the filly who came in second at the Kentucky Derby today broke her ankles at the finish line and died on the track.
You had a beautiful heart, Eight Belles.
It's a dramatic accident, and yes, athletes of any species can suffer mishaps. Racing horses is not inherently cruel; the thoroughbred is bred to do it, after all, and the good ones, viz. racing, are very competitive animals who love it. I DO have major problems with horse racing as it exists now, all of which I won't outline, but the worst, IMHO, is how *young* they run those horses. Racehorses are started on the track at two; with very rare exceptions, their careers are over at five. As a horse person, I have never, ever understood this. A two year old horse of any breed is a baby. Its bones are still growing. Dancer is *three* and I'm just starting him; he won't be ready for any strenuous riding until he's four, and any riding I do on him this year will be very light. Granted that Arabs (and crosses therewith) are small and slow to mature; a thoroughbred or other big ol' hoss is ready to safely start at two if it's done thoughtfully. By *start*, I mean careful, gentle, low impact work. Racing is about as high impact as it gets. There aren't many more difficult things you can ask of a horse.
Those horses come off the track physically and psychologically broken. Some of them have great careers post-track and can be retrained to do lots of fun stuff, but many of them are ruined. And they don't have to be. Start a racehorse at three or four and sure, maybe it wouldn't be *quite* as fast, and yes the people running them would make a little less profit because they'd have to let the colts pasture for another year...but seriously, you'd see a lot fewer injuries. It's such a small price to pay for the suffering of so many extraordinary and magnificent animals. And come on, two spectacular fatalities in...three years? at the Derby is not good press, and can only harm the sport. You'd have horses with fewer injuries and longer track-time if they were started 3-4 and retired at 7-8!
OK, end soapbox. I'll leave you with the lyrics to Joan Baez' version of 'Stewball the racehorse', with her added last verse celebrating the on-track death of the great Ruffian, as a sort of on-line wake for Eight Belles.
Stewball was a good horse, he wore his head high,
and the mane on his foretop, was fine as silk thread.
I rode him in England, I rode him in Spain,
and I never did lose, boys, I always did gain.
So come all you gamblers, wherever you are,
and don`t bet your money on that little grey mare.
Most likely she`ll stumble, most likely she`ll fall,
but never you`ll lose, boys, on my noble Stewball.
As they were a-riding, `bout halfway round,
that grey mare she stumbled, and fell on the ground.
And way out yonder, ahead of them all,
came a-prancing and a-dancing, my noble Stewball.
Stewball was a race horse, and by the day he was mine,
he never drank water, he always drank wine.
Oh the grey mare was a racehorse, and her heart it was gold
She lies dead on the infield
but her story's been told.
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no subject
Date: 2008-05-04 02:06 pm (UTC)That team should be barred from racing for awhile, I think, just as cyclists are who are caught doping, at the very least. That poor filly. :(
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Date: 2008-05-04 03:59 pm (UTC)For fairness, her jockey had a different story: http://shakespearessister.blogspot.com/2008/05/eight-belles.html. She was running fine until her legs gave out after she crossed the finish line. Perhaps both accounts are the truth.
But it's a great illustration of why my horse-whisperer friend won't go anywhere near racing any more.