We saved Roxie, a petite thoroughbred mare, from an owner who hot wired her stall and put nails in her feed buckets because she was a cribber. He would take her to race and if she didn't win, he would put her in her stall without food or water, beat on her, and walk away. We cried for her. We were wintering at a training track in Texas, and she was in the barn next to ours, and when an unexpected financial blessing came our way, we bought Roxie.
She was defensive and nervous - a real basket case. We used our years of knowledge to get her head on straight and proceeded to get her ready to run at a small track in Wyoming, along with our other horses. We took off on an adventure. My husband and I were not conventional parents - we have always marched to a different drummer. We lived in a poorly converted school bus, occupancy 54, with no amenities and even less insulation. Our children and our animals were always our first priorityand still are.
The first time we raced Roxie, she ran third. I picked her up after the race and took her back to the barn to cool out. I bathed her, watered her, walked her, let her graze, and finally after two hours she relaxed enough to return her to her stall. About five minutes after I put her up, my husband came by (he was working track maintenance on the side) to see how she was doing. Next thing I know he collared me and chewed me up one side and down the other because Roxie was soaking wet with sweat! I told him that she was cool and calm when I put her up five minutes earlier. We went to the stall and there she was -cowered in a back corner, white lather all over, shaking like a leaf with fear!! She didn't win, and she expected a beating. We both cried. It took us another two hours before she finally realized there would be no beating, no starvation, none of the old abuse. Roxie ran a few more times, and each time she ran second or third. We declared "no stick" - no one would whip her. Two things happened. The gamblers loved her, and she stopped worrying about what would happen if she didn't win. On the day when she broke her maiden (won her first race), the crowd gave her a standing ovation when she crossed the finish line!! We cried.
The track in Wyoming went bankrupt, and we ended up at a small track in Arizona. It was the one track where all our horses of questionable ability were eligible to run. We had decided that we wouldn't run her again. She ran very short and fast, five furlongs was the limit, and there weren't a lot of sprints available for her. Christmas was coming and once again we were financially on the big Empty - no money could be spent for anything but the absolute essentials. The boys each had one gift on their list for Santa. My husband asked the racing secretary if he would write a five furlong race - no chance, not enough thoroughbreds would enter. So, he asked if they would write a race that only quarter horses would enter - a 660 or 870 yard race. While the racing secretary thought hubby has lost his mind - enter a thoroughbred against quarter horses - gotta be crazy! The track had plenty of trainers who would enter this race. And so it was, he entered Roxie to run against a slew of quarter horses.
Roxie came out of the gate like always and ran her race. She got beat at the wire, but ran third. She made exactly enough money to buy each of the boys the gift that they wanted for Christmas. We cried.
We retired Roxie that day. We gave her to a good friend who turned her out to pasture to graze and enjoy her freedom for the rest of her life. And we still cry when we think of her.
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