Roxie, Thoroughbred Angel

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.

Stay Out of the Water!!!

While we were at a racetrack in Minnesota, there was very heavy rain and a major flood. Some of the barns were on hills, and some were in low areas in 3 to 4 feet of water. Dumpsters were floating down the roads between barns. One very quick thinking lady had saved the computer rooms in the basement of the grandstand by shoving huge cartons of toilet paper and paper towels in the hallway to soak up the floodwaters.

We got to the track at 5 A.M. and had to walk across the bumpers of trucks parked outside the security gates to get through the water to get to the barn and feed horses. We then took the boys to the track kitchen for breakfast and to assess the situation - not a good training day for sure. We told the boys to stay out of the water. They could play in the recreation room.

We were enjoying an extra cup of coffee since there was no reason to hurry that morning, when another trainer walked up and mentioned he had just seen the boys in the parking lot. WHAT? We looked out the window and there they were --- rafting through the parking lot on a barn door that had blown off in the storm, using brooms for paddles. The fact that the water they had waded through had been saturated with horse manure and who knows what else didn't phase them - they might as well have been on the Mississippi with Tom and Huck.

After a proper lecture, I sent Dad and the boys to the public showers and had them hosed off, clothes and all, for the ride back to our apartment and some clean dry clothes.

Christmas to Remember

The race meet in Ohio was over. Time to take the horses home to their owners for a rest and regroup for the following spring. We headed to Texas via Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Iowa. We needed a place to stay while we wintered in Texas and looked for fresh stock. Our old neighbors in Texas had an empty mobile home as they had built a new house. The mobile home had been advertised for sale for two years with no takers, so they offered to let us stay there. We would have to get rid of the skunk that had taken up residence under the trailer, and there had been roaches and mice as well. Old fashioned moth balls moved the skunk out and elbow grease took care of the rest.

Oh well, gotta live somewhere and Christmas was only a week away. The boys were hoping for an Atari under the tree. I helped hubby with horses in the morning, then headed to the mobile home to clean and disinfect. On Saturday I told my honey and the boys that we could move in, and bought a small artificial tree and a few decorations. We put the tree up before we unpacked much of anything. Christmas was now only 5 days away.

On Monday, the neighbor came home from work and immediately knocked on the door. She had some news - they had a buyer for the mobile home, and he would be coming after it on Dec. 26 - we had to move and quickly.

We checked the newspaper for rentals, but everyone wanted a one year lease, and we knew we wouldn't be in the area for more than 2 months. My husband's father had a small rent house he was remodeling and told us we could move in there. The toilet had a crack in it, the floors were plywood, and there were no kitchen appliances, but it was a roof. There was one small bedroom, a small kitchen, a living room, but there was room for our little tree. Once again, I put that tree up before anything else got done. Those boys were going to have a Christmas tree!!

We survived with an ice chest, a hot plate, and a little bottled gas camping stove. We had a tiny TV that an owner had given to us, so when Santa left one gift under the tree - the Atari - the boys were delighted.

When we ordered a pizza delivery, the cracked potty sitting on the front deck made it very easy to find the right address!

Thanksgiving the Hard Way

Trying to make a living on the race track with horses of questionable ability and two small boys makes you resourceful. We had purchased a used mobile home and moved it to the mobile home lot right next to the training track to save money. We could walk to work and the boys would always be close. We had water and electric, but no propane for the stove, and no money to buy an electric range. Along came Thanksgiving.

One of the jockeys liked to hunt and gave us a wild turkey, feathers and all. Fortunately, my dad was a hunter and had also been a meat cutter so I had watched him dress game many many times. The boys helped me dunk, pluck, and dress the turkey. We used it as an anatomy lesson. Then there was the rest of the meal. Potatoes, cranberries, dressing, and gravy, and, of course, a fruit salad and pumpkin pie with whipped topping were a must. I had a microwave, a crock pot, and a hot plate.

I cut up the turkey into pieces and cooked the legs, wings, and back in the crock pot as they fit, and then drained the stock and refrigerated the already cooked parts. Took the breast and stuffed it and put it in the crock pot. This was the hot part of the turkey meal that day. The potatoes were cooked on the hot plate, as was the gravy. The pie was a microwave miracle - you would be surprised what you can do with a microwave.

It probably took three times longer to fix the turkey, etc. by doing it on the installment method, but the family was happy and full, and to this date, the boys still enjoy Thanksgiving and the memories we all share.

Food Pantry

We were at a racetrack that went bankrupt during the meet. Everyone had seven days to pack up and move out, and since all the money in the horsemen's accounts was frozen, there was no traveling money available. We sold a horse and left caravan style with two other families. There was another trainer, his wife and two boys, and also a trainer, his significant other, and one horse, and two sheep.

We got to our new temporary home with no food and no money, so we decided to pack up the kids and go to the local food pantry. They allowed $9 worth of food for each family member, and we could go back one more time after the initial visit. The woman who was the "significant other" whispered to us that she sure would like to have $36 worth of food like our family was getting, but she would have to give them names of children. We told her to give them the names of her sheep. She said she couldn't do that, and when we asked why not, she told us "because their names are Sheba and Twat Twat". While trying to keep a straight face, we suggested a couple of more common and acceptable names, and we all got our $36 worth of groceries.

We traded our name brand mustard for their pre-sweetened cereal and everyone threw in something so we could share a community meal. Our boys still smile at that memory, and I must confess I cannot look at that particular kind of cereal at the grocery store without thinking about that day!

Barn Blind

How to you tell an owner that his prize race horse can't run a stumbling jump? Believe me, it ain't easy!!

A guy brought us a horse that was definitely race bred, and had been two four trainers already with no positive results. Positive results meaning that no money was being made when the horse ran. So, my husband gave it his best shot, and it soon became obvious that when this animal was conceived, in spite of his pedigree, his genetic racing ability got left out.

The man refused to believe it could be true. We tried repeatedly to send the horse home and save him money, but he stubbornly said to keep trying. Well, since I always did the stall cleaning, feeding, etc. - I am of the opinion that it doesn't take any more time, effort, and feed to take care of a horse that can run than one that cannot. So, we set up a little match race between his horse and our pony horse, Custer, age 23, with me riding Custer in a stock saddle.

That was the only time I ever won a horse race with me as the "jockey". He finally agreed and took the horse - but not home - to another trainer to try one more time. He said if that didn't work he was going to stand him at stud. Makes you wonder why he would want to breed more of the same, but it was his horse, his call.

Next Investment

We were contacted by a gentleman who wanted to sell us some running bred quarter horses, so we loaded the boys up in the old beater and headed out to check out the stock. Not only did this guy have horses to sell - he had a baby pygmy goat. Those two boys zeroed in on the little guy and the next thing we knew they were asking our host how much money he had to have for the goat. This guy was horse trader deluxe, or maybe a used car dealer on the side. He carefully extracted the amount they had to spend, and gee whiz - that goat cost just that much.

So, we loaded the goat, named Frisky, into the back seat of the car and hauled him home. He was put in a stall at the track, and the boys and their two friends started "training" him. They made him a halter out of some baling twine and broke him to lead. They asked for an old saddle cloth and an ace bandage and created a racing saddle for him. They wrapped his legs, groomed him, and were very proud of their accomplishments.

Then the day came when they took him to the paddock to teach him how to stand to be saddled for a race. They had all four legs wrapped, and managed to get his "saddle" on him before he started jumping around and got loose. That was when we got the page over the loud speaker system - would we please come to the racing office immediately!!!

Now, the ladies in the racing office were okay, but they wore dresses and heels to work, had their hair and nails done, and didn't get dirty. When we got to the racing office, there were the four boys trying to catch Frisky. Frisky was standing in the middle of the racing secretary's desk chewing on an entry form with a bunch of screaming women around him.

The goat was captured and returned to his stall. The boys were properly reprimanded (although it was hard to keep a straight face), and they had to help pick up the mess. The trainers re-entered their horses, and most of them didn't even try to keep a straight face.

And here I thought snakes and mice were trouble!