Day of the Donkey, Then the Day of Domination

First, I want to set the scene, because the deal is that the actual racing part of horse racing is a very intense affair. You start your day by rising at 3:00 to feed your Beagle-esque puppy and wash yourself. You arrive at the barn a little after 4:00 a.m. so you can wash, rinse, hang and refill 45 water buckets and feed tubs, though you do have some help with this, because the folks in our barn work every bit as hard as you do, if not harder. You wanna get started that early because the first set of two horses will go to the track about 5:45 - you get done just in time though, on the day of Donkey's race, we're late because we like 7 poultices to wash off, poultice being a kind of clay substance we coat the horses' legs with so those legs and cool off and remain healthy after a almost-race-paced workout called a breeze.

Then, you start catching horses. Catching means you help switch equipment after the horses return from the track, then you hold the animals for their baths, sometimes after a little walk, depending, then you graze the horses for a few minutes while you start to run them dry. I caught 7 or 8 on Donkey's race day, last Saturday - it was literally one right after another, with about a ten minute break around 8 or 8:15 (I can't remember). Then, you help feed - in the morning horses get oats, barley, a sweet feed and herbs - they're fed about 10:30. And maybe a vet comes in to do something to a horse or two or three, so you stop and help with that. About 11:00, you're ready to pack up Zoe, head home, jump in the shower, change clothes (one should dress a little up for the Spa), and head back to the track for the race.

In New York, horses have to go to a detention barn several hours before the race. Once there, someone from our barn has to be with the horse at all times. The guy with Donkey was Jose, his groom. I got there around 11:45 or 12. We were to leave about 1:30, so Jose started getting the horse ready around noon. There were probably fifty horses in our barn, which was actually this huge tent with temprary stalls put in. It was stifling in there - fans were running, but they didn't really get the job done. And, you're in a long sleeve shirt and khakis.

Donkey was pretty well-behaved there - he likes to stand and toss his head up and down when he's happy, and he did a lot of that there.

I paced a little, I always do before a race - before one of Street's I wear ruts in the ground.

The PA lady called for us to come out around 1:30.

Three mistakes and one near miss (if you don't count being attached to Donkey to begin with). Jose's one the right side, with a shank attached and he's in control. I'm on the left side with a strip of leather attached to the halter, the strip being called a pony strap. My job is simple - I'm just there to distract Donkey, not to control him. Being there, most often, helps to keep a horse calm (I was supposed to be on the right side of Street the next day, but that didn't work out because the person who was supposed to carry my bag of equipment wasn't given the right instructions by, uh, me, so Ian walked on the right side - I'm writing this to memorialize that it was an honor that Ian was fine with me doing that, b/c, with a horse like Street, that's a very cool thing to be able to do - I have ego, therefore I am).

First mistake: At the Spa, you gather at this walking ringclose to a fence. OK, no worries. Except, what I didn't realize is that the tracks right there! And the horses race right past where you are. Though our horse and the others couldn't see the racers, they sure as hell could hear them and, when horses hear other horses running full out, guess what they wanna do? That's right, they wanna run too!

Lesson learned: For all other races, be away from that damned fence.

Next mistake: After settling the about-to-bolt Donkey, we left for the padock, but we left first. That's generally not a good idea. Because, the first horse is, of course, the first one to see, um, everything, all the people, all the vehicles, all the everything. And, so, Donkey walked fast. We tried to make him walk slow, but you really can't MAKE a horse do anything, so we walked fast as well, and probably arrived a good 20 lengths in front of every one else.

I was bath-drenched with sweat by the time we arrived.

So, no more leaving first.

Donkey was very nervous in the paddock; he just didn't want to stand, whether it was for saddling or for standing period.

Third mistake: If you're the hotwalker and you have the groom and trainer trying to control Donkey, don't try to help. At the end of the saddling process, we take the shank and halter off and attach the pony strap to the bridle. However, of course Donkey moved when we tried to do this and I put my hand on his chest to stop him - I ended up underneath his head. That's a bad place to be because, if he had reared, his legs would have smacked me right in the head.

So, lesson: Just stay the hell out of the way of a nervoud horse in the paddock unless you're asked to do something.

We got the horse out and got the rider one him. He ran a very good race - Calvin Borel, his jockey, had him well positioned coming down the stretch and we all thought he had a chance to win. He just couldn't quite finish with those three other horses. Carl was very happy with the race.

And, then, Donkey didn't get to go back to his home quite yet (and Donkey quite likes his home - he feels very safe there). Nope - the New York Racing Association elected to send us to the test barn, where we bath, water and cool out the horses before they are urine and blood tested to ensure no cheating. They took, I think 4 or 5 horses from Donkey's race - the testing is somewhat random, though the winner always goes.

Donkey does not really like new things. He was not comfortable in the test barn. We had trouble getting him to stand for his hosing off and bath (you have to put a lot of water on horses when it's as hot as it's been here), I had trouble getting him to settle while I was walking him, he didn't really relax when we put him in the test barn stall to do his business.

I love Donkey, but he gets so nervous that he's very difficult for me to handle well. I tried everything I knew of to get him to relax, but, I guess, he just is the way he is. He think, as he matures, he will likely get better. I sort of feel sorry for him because I want him to feel like there's nothing to fear, but he just kind of doesn't get that. Anyway, we got him home safe and he was a happy baby after that. And, he got more than a dose of TLC.


And, then, there's Street Sense. Now, to set the scene, repeat the Day of Donkey (because we ran, and I walked, a calm, sweet filly named seemingly in the race before Street's). Add the same weather but mix in a suit, 'cause it's the Jim Dandy and we're at the Spa.

If ever a horse knew his job and loved every bit of it, it's Street Sense. He really needed this race - he hadn't run since the Preakness and a guy like Street gets antsy when he hasn't run in a while. He felt very good in the detention barn; he even jumped and squeeled (sp) a little bit. But, because he's a champion (the reigning two year old champion, actually), he spent a large part of the day napping. He would come up to the front of the stall and look out from time to time, but then he'd go right back and hunker down on the left side of the stall.

But, when Street's ready, he's ready. Wasn't particularly enamored of having four bandages, put on his legs, but we got the job done and off we went (we stayed away from that cursed fence with the thundering horses). Sometimes, Street can be really tough in the afternoons heading up to the race - he wants to go, and he wants to go now. But you know what Street absolutely adores, almost more than carrots? Attention! People all along this amazing walking path that's borded by a white picket fence are calling his name, shouting encouragement. And, folks, it felt like the Derby. I don't know how many people attended the races that day, but the entire path we walked was lined with people.

Street also thrives on the attention of cameras - I swear he knows what they are - he pricks his ears when he hears shutters going off. And, once we got to the actual paddock, where he also has been known to insist on leaving right now ("get your hands off of me!!!"), there were so many cameras, he just ate it up.

And, then, he totally ate up his competition. Strange thing to see, him being so close to the lead, but it was, what, a six horse field? Plus, they went fairly slowly, I think, though not as slowly as the Bluegrass Stakes at Keeneland in the spring, where the fractions were ridiculously slow. Still, he was not setting the pace, I don't think, but he was right on it. He's usually a late runner, coming from way behind but Calvin Borel flat knows his job, knew his job and felt the pace that day, and had our horse right where he needed to be, hugging the rail.

That rail, where the other jocks, I think, had Mr. Borel and Mr. Sense pretty well pinned in. I was a little (not much, I mean that) concerned, but then did you see Street bull his way to the front. I mean, he literally pushed his way into the lead, no problem. Great race, and he even had to work a bit for it. Not so tough on him and that Calvin couldn't pull him up a little before the wire, saving his best for later, the Travers 8/25. What a champion - I mean, to got though holes that, really, weren't acually there, so he could make it to the front was the mark of a horse with an enormous and courageous heart. Boom, blam! Get out of my way.

And, he didn't relax on the lead, which he's had a tendency to do. Fantastic performance.

Needless to say, we were glowing.

The next day, a guy could tell he'd done some work, our Big Guy was desirous of some quality snoozing. And some carrots; gotta have those. And, after such an invigorating triumph, he deserved that and anything else he wanted.