No Giant Hats and Mint Juleps for This Chickie

I waited until after the last race and let the excitement and conversation die down. I didn't want to ruin the fun of following yet another Triple Crown hopeful for anybody else. There was no reason to insert my opinion. To be honest, I'm not 100% sure what it is. What I do know is this. I am done with racing. I didn't watch, read or discuss the horses or the races with anyone.

It's hard. The most influential books in my young Horsaii life was Walter Farley's The Black Stallion series. He described races so exciting I would find myself jumping up and down on the couch, clutching my book and screaming, every single time I read them. I think the last time I was forty or so. 

This is probably the most exciting television moment of my life.

I started becoming more aware of the lives of race horses to a large extent from Cathy Trope and Her Fugly Horse of the Day blog.

I learned about a mare, named Press Exclusive,  with nearly half a million dollars in earnings and nine foals on the ground, getting trampled on a slaughter bound truck.



This is what she looked like when she was unloaded. She also sustained four fractured ribs and was covered head to toe with deep cuts and abrasions. She had a body score of zero. Yes, zero.

“Two-year-olds, as we know, can be here today and gone tomorrow.” -Gai Waterhouse, leading racehorse trainer."

Then, I started to learn about the injuries sustained by these horses from beginning their careers as two-year-olds.

In Australia, a study of two and three-year-old thoroughbred racehorses reported that 85 percent suffered from at least one episode of illness or injury.

See more eye opening stuff here: http://www.horseracingkills.com/the-issues/two-year-old-racing.

Did I mention drugs? Drug use is so prevalent race horses are no longer being bred with concerns over long term health. The standard practice is to race them young, race them hard and then drug the crap out of them until they die. 



None of this stuff is new anymore. I've been uneasy with the race horse industry for many years. I saw improvements, rescues trying harder, signs of the racing industry stepping up....and it made it easier to just feel uncomfortable, but still catch those races, have a favorite, root for an injured horse without looking too closely.

This year I learned about something I had never heard of before.

Have you guys heard of Nurse Mare Foals?

I hadn't.

According to The Last Chance Corral Website (http://www.lastchancecorral.org/foal-rescue)

A nurse mare foal is bred and born for the sole purpose of bringing it's mother into milk. This milk is produced to nourish the high-bred foal of another mare. The original foal is usually pulled from the nurse mare and killed.

The big buyers into this practice are thoroughbred breeders. The Jockey Club requires that mares are bred by live cover. In order to keep those babies popping as close to January 1 as possible, they are routinely bred back during their foal heat. So, mares can be shipped to be bred as early as seven days after foaling.

The newborn foals are too fragile and valuable to be shipped anywhere. So, their mom is hauled away, baby is left behind and in comes the Nurse Mare. Her brand new baby was just taken out with a sledge hammer, or tossed outside to starve to death, and she is given the thoroughbred baby instead.

I had no fricking idea. Something inside me snapped and I am done. I won't watch another horse race. Unless it's a couple of buddies taking off down a dirt road. I'll still read my beloved Walter Farley, but I'll hold firm to my childhood conviction that Alec and Henry took care of every horse that came though their hands.



I won't ruin the conversations about the next triple crown winner around the office. I won't show up and spoil anybody's Big Hat Party on Derby Day. But don't talk to me about horse racing. Because I am done.