I'm a FAN.
Somewhere along the line it happened; I only really knew it today, when I saw her near miss in the Classic by a long nose. I knew she didn't get there, but for a moment, I was in shear disbelief. Maybe I saw it wrong, maybe there would be a steward's inquiry, maybe...just maybe...
Mike Smith's tearful comments to the press broke my heart; Mike's a world class rider and Zenny, a world class mare, there is certainly no shame in their performance today. If anything, in defeat, Zenyata showed the world what a true champion looks like. On an unfamiliar track not to her liking, under lights, with a full field of the best horses in the country throwing dirt in her face, she rallied from too far off the pace, found a hole, came at least five wide on the outside, and kicked it into gear. She lost by a nose to a game and ready horse with home field advantage. I'd like to think in the end, she simply didn't know where the wire was. As Blame held on with his ears pinned to his poll, and his neck stretched to its fullest, Zenyatta's ears still flopped about, she still looked confident and in charge. Blame, at home, knew where the finish was, just as Zenny has always seemed to at Hollywood Park. Ahhh.. home field advantage.
The naysayers will cheer, and proclaim she is undeserving of HOY honor's now. I disagree. Look, had she been passed in the stretch, or been beaten soundly by a length, or finished out her career like Quality Road, with a dismal finish, then yes, she would be undeserving of the crown. Yet, here is a mare, who to this moment, was undefeated this year, traveled east to race on dirt (is it her fault that Rachel Alexandra would not face her?), and came out to a track she had never raced on to pull out all the stops on the biggest day of American racing. While it was easy to trivialize her win last year with complaints about the polytrack, and her home field advantage, if that is the case can we not do the same to her only competition for the Eclipse Award, Blame? Would it be wrong to say a true champion should be able to show they can handle both poly and dirt, and race successfully on both coasts? Can we say that perhaps Blame would not have done so well had the race been on a track he was unfamiliar with? The debate will continue until a Horse of the Year is crowned.
Let me break it down:
Blame: 5 races this year (4 G1's, 1G3) 4 wins, 1 second (in a G1) to Haynesfield (lost by 4 lengths). 4 different tracks all East Coast, all dirt
Zenyatta: 6 races this year (6 G1's) 5 wins, 1 second to Blame (lost by half a head). 5 different tracks, 3 West Coast and 2 East Coast, 2 dirt
I'm not going to look at distances, or the competition in those races; to be frank, a G1 is just that, and neither of these horses, or their connections, have any control over who shows up to face them. I also think it is sexist and unfair to play the gender card here. When it comes down to HOY honors, voters should not be devaluing a G1 race because its conditions are for fillies/mares. If that is going to be the case, then we need a HOY for each gender...separate but equal (sneer).. sound familiar?
So yes.. I'm a fan; the wins, the come from behind style, the ears, the dance, the connections.. in the end she won me over. So tonight, watching her walk back to the barn with dirt in her eyes, and Mario's hand on her neck, and not into the winner's circle, where I felt she belonged... I felt empty.
Zenyatta, thanks for the ride. What you have done for thoroughbred racing is immeasurable; how blessed are we to have seen you in action, and how much we will miss you. Thank you to the Mosses for sharing your mare with us, she has been a gift, and to Mike Smith and Mario Espinoza, who both obviously love Zenyatta, and believe, like many of us that she is perfection, even if she is 19-1.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
If you know me at all you have probably heard that tomorrow I have to put down my "new" OTTB, Northern Blue. Blue came into my life this past December, and throughout the miserable winter I sat inside and planned for my spring with Blue. I'll admit it doesn't take much for me to fall in love with a horse, and Blue was no exception, but I couldn't help but really fall for him. Sweet, sane, handsome and unflappable... an all around great guy. If he was human, he would be the one you would bring home to your parents.
About 10 days ago I pulled off his blanket and was shocked by how much weight he lost practically overnight, and not just weight on his ribs, serious muscle loss. Then I started noticing other things, almost unnoticeable ventral edema, mild swelling in his sheath, and his chest and neck had developed lumps that I was sure were not just muscle I had overlooked. Later that night he had a fever, an hour later it had resolved on its own. I gave him Banimine anyway, but I had a bad feeling... our best diagnosis is Lymphoscaroma, most likely of the GI tract. I did not have the aspirate sent off to the lab. The diagnosis is inconsequential anyway, his downhill progression has been rapid and painful to watch. His laundry list of ailments continues to grow and his stall has slowly become an equine hospice with round the clock drugs and care.
10 days from when I pulled off his blanket, we are here, on our last evening together, the vet will be here tomorrow morning to put him down, to relieve him from his suffering. So this evening as he slowly found his way to the top part of the paddock to watch his last sunset, I found my way up there as well and stood with him. I told him how much I loved him and how sorry I was for this injustice. He stood very still and quiet, shifting from one back leg to the other. I took some photos of him as well, some nice head shots in the lingering sunshine, and some body shots, mostly to document his symptoms and the rapid progression of this disease. We stood together for an hour or so and then I made my way down the hill alone. He came in after the sun went down to have his dinner, be wrapped and medicated. We will be with him through the evening, and of course tomorrow morning, when he will need us the most...
Goodbye Northern Blue... travel well my friend, I wish our time together had been longer.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
If you have seen my website lately you know my Chocolate Labrador, Harmony, had a litter of beautiful puppies at the end of December. Their birth was a culmination of years of hard work and dedication; following the "rules" of professional breeders and never settling for anything less than the best. While we are still a young kennel, I have been blessed with awesome teachers and mentors and had the ability to start with champion sired females; top notch girls, not someone else's leftovers.
If I had thought I had learned a lot in a foaling stall; I have learned even more standing over a whelping box for 13 hours at a time. I have watched tiny pups come to life in Deena's hands, learned how to quickly and efficiently tie off umbilical cords, dip stumps and take weights before handing over to mom. I have also encountered the puppies that never were. Pups that were born but all the stimulating in the world could not coax them into taking their first breath... what bittersweet moments... and after taking a literal second to ponder life's questions, get back into gear, hoping to make sure the next pup enters the world safely...
Recently, I have done more laundry than the local laundromat. I have spent my midnights with puppies. At first it was for those crucial supplemental feedings for my littlest pup, then it was their late night meal, now it is to take them for a walk to relieve themselves. I am ever so thankful for the mild weather March has brought us so far! I have purchased more Pro Plan Large Breed puppy kibble than I thought humanly possible and I am at our local Tractor Supply Company store a minimum of twice a week. Producing quality puppies takes more than money and time, it takes heart (and quite honestly, a very patient husband, who does not seriously mind finding puppy towels thrown in the dryer with his tee shirts).
I had my first real "a ha!" moment the day the pups from this litter went home... you know that moment when you stumble backwards in the realization of how life and time are so much bigger than all of us. As I put one of my pups into the arms of his new family, my heart sank a little and I worried for him. Would he be terribly frightened tonight, his first night without his siblings? Would his new owners always treat him with love and kindness, even when he made a mistake? Would he have a long and wonderful life? It was then I realized that while I had carefully orchestrated his arrival into this world, made sure he received the best food, care and socialization, I was just a brief moment, eight weeks of time in a life that could span over a decade, and in a week, he would never remember being here.
Then I thought about my own girls, who rode the 7 hours home on my lap, who I kissed and coddled through their puppyhood. Who I lavished with cookies and toys, and proudly displayed to all when I took them to the vet's office for the first time. I remember the compliments I received about them, and how I protected them from other dogs by swooping them up into my arms for safety. I remembered how much joy they have given me through these years with the squinting eyes and wagging tails, so happy to see me whenever I returned home; or their dedication as they followed me around the house. Content to sleep at my feet, wherever I was, even if it meant getting up repeatedly as I moved from place to place.
I realized as I put my puppy in this couple's arms that I was giving them all those happy moments and memories my breeder had given me. I was handing them a living hourglass, a yardstick that someday they would look back and measure a period of time in their life by. It is unfortunate that our dogs cannot live lives as long as ours, that we can only share specific chapters with them; but each dog, each life memorializes a set number of years for us- childhood, adolescence, our first apartment or home, our pregnancy or the birth of our child... for many of us, a dog has been there there through it all. Not the same dog, but they all seem to stand for the same things. Love, dedication, and the passage of time. They are gatekeepers. It was in this moment I saw my dogs for what they really were.
I have had some really amazing complements about my puppies so far. It is my goal to only produce one or two litters a year. Fabulous puppies I have a hard time letting go of. Puppies that people are happy to be on a waiting list for. The day I know I have truly succeeded as a breeder will be ten or fifteen years from now and one of my families call to tell me that their old Labrador, that puppy that had once nestled in my arms, has passed on; and how much he had meant to them, how much they loved him. How much like family he had become. That will be the greatest compliment of all and a success to judge all others by.