Honeymoon

At that point, of course, any sane and sensible person would have sighed, maybe even shed a small tear, and then said 'No thanks'. After all, there are lots of nice horses out there, of all kinds ; and thousands of racehorses retire from training every year. But the words 'sane' and 'sensible' are seldom found in the same sentence as 'ex-racehorse owner' . ( Often not even in the same chapter !)

And so Dara came to live with me. I was very careful with him, doing nothing to over-tax him whilst he relaxed, grew and matured. He was very under-cooked, physically. Though he was four, he looked like a backward three-year-old. As so often with young racers, all his high-performance feeding had gone into producing energy for the racetrack, not bodybuilding. I was convinced this immaturity was the cause of his suspect hind action. With rest, food, and gradual muscle-building, I figured, he'd just grow out of it.

For the first four months I never even sat on him, just led him around the village, did some long-reining and lungeing, and concentrated on bonding and relationship-building. He was nervy at first, understandably, but soon settled and decided he liked being a pet. He was well-mannered , affectionate, communicative, and gave no problems. When I finally did climb aboard, he was good as gold. We were soon hacking quietly round the lanes in half-hour sessions. Dara was calm in the small amount of traffic we met, and didn't mind tractors, dogs or kids with footballs. (Though he did snort in disgust at one sweet child who started squealing loudly as we drew alongside. I almost did the same.) Dara was adorable. I loved him to bits.

And so the six months refund period passed, with nothing to report. All seemed to be going well with darling Dara.

Decisions, decisions......

I wasn't there for the vetting. I couldn't leave work. But the Nice Vet Lady called me afterwards and gave a full verbal report.

Dara was a sweet horse, she said ( accurate, if not very clinical), and she thought 'he would respond well to being a one-person horse' - as opposed to one of many in a professional racing yard. His conformation and general condition were good, though he was a little underweight and immature for his age. He had good sound feet, with no signs of problems. She noted he had very tight , even sore, muscles over his back behind the saddle area, which was puzzling considering he'd been turned out to grass all summer.

And then came the big Buts. There was a bony lump inside the right hind fetlock below the joint in the pastern. It may not be significant, she said ( just as I thought) - but ' in a young horse it's rather worrying'. Ohhhh......
When moving, he turned in slightly with his right foreleg (and it WAS slight - certainly not plaiting) -but it indicated uneven weight-bearing. He moved very close, almost brushing with his feet, especially at trot and especially behind. Indeed, she was not happy with his hind movement at all, especially on his right side. His flexion tests had been fine, and he'd turned well enough - but there was a something that was not quite as it should be. Of course, some of it could be down to physical immaturity.....She was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt - to some extent. But I might find it hard, she said, to get insurance cover for veterinary fees.

In short, she concluded ( and was to follow it up in her written certificate) - in her opinion, Dara's 'noted conditions' were, 'on the balance of probabilities, likley to prejudice his use for general riding.' Eeekkk!
She advised me not to buy him. Double-eeekk.

This was devastating news. After all, I was in love - Dara was The One. What to do ? I contacted all my horsey friends and asked for advice. They all said something different. It ranged from the comforting 'he'll grow out of it' to the 'not with a bargepole!' line. I was still dithering when Dara's owner phoned me, wanting to know the results, and my decision. I blurted out the findings. The owner was offended. 'He's never been unsound, never had the slightest problem !' he assured me. He also reminded me that someone else had already asked for Dara if I didn't want him. Eventually - because I couldn't let go - he offered a small refund ( £250) if Dara proved to be unsound from his back or hind leg defects after six months. Take it or leave it.

I'd paid £200 for a veterinary examination and the vet's advice. Was I to totally ignore it ?

Meet Dara the Indecipherable

So now that I've figured out how to post photos, I reckon it's time I introduced you all to my terrible trio of ex-racers. I'll do it in easy stages, to minimise shock and alarm....

I've kept ex-racehorses for over thirty years, one way or another ; honourably- retired old jumpers, failed flat-race youngsters, flashy stallions and venerable broodmares. At the moment I have three horses all taken straight out of training over the past four years; Dara, Miraed, and Big H. They are all different and, though the aim is only to re-school them into simply-for-pleasure riding horses, for my own enjoyment, they are all at different stages and their rehabilitation progress has been erratic, to say the least. From now on, I'll keep you posted; be ready for a lot of ups and downs !

So, first up, say hello to Dara .

Formal stuff, for those into bloodstock ;

Name: Laird Dara Mac, (GB) dark bay gelding , foaled 4th May 2000, by Presidium out of Nishara

Petnames - Darling Dara, or Dara the Divilment, depending on his mood. Which says it all, really !

Dara was foaled, reared and put into race training all on the same farm in Malton, North Yorkshire. He was a great favourite there, apparently, because of his sweet and gentle nature. He was easy and straighforward to break-in, was regularly hacked out by the trainer's 11-year-old nephew, and sometimes raced with a girl jockey aboard. Between the ages of 3 and 4 he raced seven times, on the flat and over hurdles. He was last, or nearly last, every time ( except the final race of his career, when he pulled up before the second hurdle ; Dara showing his dontwanna streak ?) His owner got the message and put him up for sale as a riding horse, a 'real gentleman'. ( If you sense a doom-laiden 'but then' - you're absolutely right !)

This is where I came in. I'd been searching for a pretty little horse ( just like my much-loved old mare, now deceased) for ages. I'd seen lots, and never felt right about any of them. This was to be a horse for ME - not chosen to suit someone else; it had to be 'right', in that subconscious, instinctive way that most women, and even some men, if they are true horse-lovers, will understand. I walked into the stable yard and a dark bay head, pretty as a picture with a white star, rushed to look over the door and whinny at me. I was in love.

As soon as I saw him, I new Dara was The One. Of course, being a sensible woman with years of horse experience , I didn't shout out loud 'That's it ! He's coming home with me !' Oh no indeedy. I did all the proper, sensible things. I had him walked and trotted out. Asked loads of questions. Spent some time with him unsupervised in the stable, and felt him all over, pulled his ears and tail, picked up all his feet, checked his mouth. All the stuff you do. I arranged to come back another day, and saw him tacked up and ridden, before getting on him to try him myself - walk, trot, and finally ( what the heck!) canter. Good as gold ! No bucking, jogging, or pulling. We even had good brakes . I was ready to talk money. And of course, because I was determined to have Dara, and it must have been pretty obvious from the soppy, besotted grin on my face, the owner levered out of me more than I had wanted to pay. But who cares? - not me ! The deal was agreed, and Dara was mine - subject to vetting.

Ah yes, I still had enough of my wits about me ( and a big enough hole gouging out of my bank balance) to insist on a veterinary examination. And - well - that's where the Dara saga starts getting more complicated.

On Parade at Newbury

Last Saturday ( 12th April) some friends from the Ex-Racers Club gave a parade of their reschooled ex-racehorses at Newbury Racecourse. Fifteen of them - as glorious a bunch of recycled ex-racers as you could wish to see !

There were all different types, ages, race-records, and stages of rehabilitation, but all of them ( well - most !) behaved superbly, and every one was in tip-top condition and beautifully turned out. Handsome Badshah won the Best Turned Out prize, judged and presented by former Grand National winning jockey Bob Champion . Both he and John Francome, who was commentating for Channel 4 Racing, said how impressed they were with all the horses on parade.

All these ex-racers had been re-trained for various different activities, and the riders dressed according to their horses' new disciplines. So, people wore showing jackets , showjumping gear, cross-country kit - and one girl even wore a full side-saddle habit, her lovely bay looking the perfect ladies' hack, just to show how versatile the post-racing Thoroughbred can be.

Ex-racehorse parades are becoming popular at race meetings these days. People love to see how well the horses have retrained and adapted, physically and mentally - especially if they remember a horse from its racing days. But this event at Newbury was very special. It was done as a Memorial Tribute to Sian O'Gorman, who died last year, and was followed by a race held in her honour.

Sian was a long-time, and much-loved, member of the Ex-Racers Club. Witty and wise, and with a real talent for the written word, she was known for her informative and sometimes hilarious posts, and her willingness to help anyone, in any way she could. She lived and worked in the Lambourn area, in the heart of the racing world, and she loved racehorses, - both former and current - with a passion. She raced her own horse, Mother Says ( known at home as Philip), and when he retired from the track they went hunting and showing. Not only that, Sian also helped rehome dozens of other retiring racehorses over the years. It was no wonder that the crowds turned out to cheer the parade and race held to commemorate her.

So her beloved Philip, now in the care of Sian's friend Laura, travelled down from Yorkshire to head the parade on Saturday. He wore Sian's racing paddock sheet, and Laura sprinked him all over with golden dust. The other paraders came from all over the country. It had taken eight months of organising and hectic fundraising by the Ex-Racers Club to arrange it all, and pay for the race sponsorship and trophies. But it was worth it ! There were a few tears, but many more cheers , and the rain held off till after Sian's race. Sian's doing, we reckoned. Her race was won by the Queen's horse, Barbers Shop. Two of the other jockeys fell off. Wonder if Sian had a hand in that, too...?

After the Grand National...?

So what happens to Grand National racehorses when they retire and become ex-racehorses ?

Everyone knows about Red Rum, of course ( winner in 1973, 1974, and 1977, and second in 1975 and 1976). He became a much-loved celebrity, touring the UK making public appearances to his adoring fans and raising big money for good causes. I remember seeing Rummy once at the Great Yorkshire Show. What a star ! The equine George Clooney of his day.

At the other extreme, there was poor Hello Dandy ( winner 1984), who retired to go hunting but then fell on hard times and ended up being rescued, in a pretty poor state, by the Thoroughbred Rehabilitation Centre. Fortunately, they were able to pull him through and provide him with another dozen years of happy, 5-star comfort in his old age . He died last year, much mourned, at the grand age of 33.

But what of all the others ? The Grand National attracts huge fields - up to 40 runners every year. Where do they all go ? Most of the Aintree runners are geldings (Only 13 mares have won the race in its 170 -odd year history .) So, comparatively few will end up in the breeding paddocks.

Almost by definition, a Grand National horse - whether it wins or not - will be brave, strong, athletic, and clever. And since they can't really carry on at that peak level much past middle age, however good they are, they tend to be retired at an age when, if sound enough, they could easily forge a new, slightly less demanding, career. Lots of them go eventing, or find a new lease of life in the hunting field, doing for sheer fun what they used to do for a living. I know the 1975 winner L'Escargot gave his grateful rider some wonderful days hunting.
Others are kept on at or near their old training yards, cared for by doting staff and occupied as nursemaids and schoolmasters for all the incoming youngsters, equine and human. Miinnehoma ( winner 1994) was retired close to Martin Pipe's yard, in the care of former Head Lad Dennis Dummett, to become a huge celebrity and a regular in the annual Parade of Grand National Winners at Aintree.

Lots of these great horses have owners who truly love them, and take the decision to retire them early, even if still 'at the top', rather than put them through any more risk as they get older. Quite right too - they've earned it ! So well done to Trevor Hemmings, the owner of Hedgehunter, that brilliant National specialist and winner in 2005 whose retirement has just been announced. The old warrior ( and 5-times National runner) is going to live on the Isle of Man with his owner, hunting, hacking and , I bet, being spoilt rotten. Good old Hedgie !

It's harder, though, to trace what happens to the also-rans. But I do know of some. Akarus and Royal Predica both went to the same home when they retired from racing, were reschooled, and forged a successful new life as show horses in ex-racer classes. And also as beloved, pampered pets ! The same applies to Kendal Cavalier, who ran in the 1999 and 2000 Nationals, and is now a much-loved pleasure horse who enjoys charity Fun Rides. Burlu, ( National runner in 2003) , these days is a happy hacker, preparing for his first season as a just-for-fun riding club horse.

What about all the others ? Anybody know ?

Day at the Sales ( Bloodstock, not shoes)

Last Tuesday I went with a friend to Doncaster Bloodstock Sales. Not that I was seeking another ex-racehorse. ( Though the bloodstock sales can be a good place to find one. I've bought several ex-racers this way over the years, including Miraed and Big H. I'll be mentioning more about bloodstock sales in later posts.) But on Tuesday we were really there just for an interesting jolly, and to check out the brand-spanking-new sales complex DBS have just built.

It was impressive - modern, hi-tech, light, airy and clean. ( Doubt it will stay clean for long, though, with horsey people around.) Not so sure about the carpet, however ( which, I was told, they'd only finished fitting the night before. Ahh - glad I'm not the only last-minuter.) This carpet was cream-coloured - just hope it will stand up to lots of washing !

And - shock! horror! - they've stopped selling in guineas ! All the bidding was in pounds. (Though some of the auctioneers kept forgetting, and saying 'guineas' anyway.) Now I know many people these days don't actually know what a 'guinea' is. ( One pound and one shilling, in old sterling currency. Historically the auctioneers took the shilling as their commission. Now DBS have replaced all that with a 6% buyer's premium - which I reckon works out a bit better for them !) But it's rather sad to see yet another tradition gone.

This particular sale, the Lincoln Handicap Sale, was specifically for younger racehorses, ready to enter training or to move up in their racing careers. ( And some beauties there were . ) So, although a few sold for low money ( £600-£800), most fetched healthy 4-figure sums. All the ones we specially liked sold well - (£12,000 - £38,000). Ok, so we've got good taste in horseflesh - pity our pockets will never match it!

Even so, anyone looking for a prospective retired racehorse to retrain as, say, a show-jumper, or eventer, or even a dressage horse, could have chosen from twenty or more in the £1000-£3000 bracket. That would be cheap for a sound young horse 'ready to go on'.

But of course, with ex-racehorses ( however lightly raced) it's never wise to assume those words 'sound' and 'ready' actually apply. In my experience they often don't - on one or both counts ! That's where the fun starts... and the expense. Oh, why do we do it...?