The Long Ride Home

For the big red horse, the journey started several years ago when he was first dropped off at the training barn to learn about racing. He was a big gangly colt with a nice white stipe down his face. He went about his job earnestly and, like any good student, enjoyed the work. Pal took everything in stride. He got used to carrying a rider, starting from a gate, and galloping out. He had a barnful of friends, and many of his two-legged friends visited him weekly. It felt good to stretch those long legs and skim along next to the fence.

His next stop was Emerald Downs, where he was to learn more about life on the track. He started in a race only once at age 2, then was turned out to grow up some before returning at age 3. By this time, his owner began building a network of people interested in participating in race horse ownership. A stable was formed called "Ticket To Ride," and since it was formed in a way that was affordable to anyone, Pal began to gather quite a group of fans.

Pal had his ups and downs as a three year old. Being an enormous horse consuming energy at a tremendous rate, he was difficult to keep weight on. He tried very hard to do a good job, and it still felt great to get out and stretch those still-growing legs. He had a pet goat, and he had many, many owners who came to give him carrots by the pound. He was always ready to greet them, arching his lovely swan neck over the grate to give a nuzzle. Some race horses get nasty or bitey, but never Pal. His demeanor was always the same. Interested in his world, and happy to see any visitor. He always gave his group of owners a thrill as he strode into the paddock to receive his jockey before running a race. His brilliant copper coat reflected captured bit of golden sunlight. His powerful build was sculpted into a form that was beautiful to watch. Though he was still going through his apprenticeship as a racehorse, the owners loved Pal, and just being a part of his life was enough for most.

Pal did not win as a three year old, but an important change did happen. He changed trainers once, and then again. He settled at the barn of Joe Toye, who took the time to figure out what the colt was all about. He schooled him in the gate, and he took him to the paddock over and over to accustom him to the race day routine. Pal had a good race or two that year, but had yet to cross the wire in front.

Fresh off a long rest, Pal returned to Emerald Downs as a four year old. His ownership group had changed a bit; several did not wait to see what might develop with the positive changes from the year before. The ones that remained formed a fan club solidarity. They crowded the paddock prior to the race. Always glowing with excitement. Always sure that THIS was it. This was the time. Greeting the jockey and hoping he'd take good care with the horse they now called a friend. Pal was aptly named.

Pal did not disappoint. He had now matured into the journeyman race horse who knew his job. His trips to the paddock for the pre-race preparations were now accompanied by a sense of purpose. Three times in thirteen, the big red horse crossed the wire first. He came once second, and once third. His joy in running was always clear. Every win photo shows Pal with his ears perked, his long strides covering the ground at an amazing rate. His fan club grew even more dedicated, sporting pins declaring their loyalty. They loudly shouted their support as the field of horses rounded the head of the stretch, stretching their vocal cords to hoarseness no matter his placement.

Pal's final races were run down in the warm Arizona winter sun. His most glorious racing moment was spent down there as he finished first on the turf, in front of racing veterans possessing impressive resumes and showing earnings of well into the hundreds of thousands. His fan club was thousands of miles away, however, and some of the fun went out of racing for Pal. He was now officially five years old, and felt a little tired. His owner spent many dollars trying to ensure Pal's well-being, investing in massage therapy and other treatment modalities, and even an animal communicator. They all came back with the same message. Pal no longer wanted to race. He was ready to move on to another job. He enjoyed people, and he wanted to share his life with many. He missed his fan club.

His trainers loved Pal, and they did not want to see him go. He had never been injured. His legs were still strong, and his stamina excellent. He was the picture of what a race horse should be. They tried to convince the owner that Pal could and should continue his life on the track. He just needed a freshening rest. A short rest was tried, but that was not Pal's requirement. He was ready to come home.

After much soul-searching, Pal's owner decided on a course of action. She had always wanted the best for Pal, and had invested in hearing his requests. A job, lots of people, a fan club. What could he do? And who could bring Pal's dreams to life? She ran through the mental list of people she had connected with over her lifetime with horses. Finally, she settled on one of Pal's ownership partners. A person who traveled with her horses, who loved them, and had the right emotional connection with them. Someone who shared her horses and what she'd learned about and with them.

On a sunny Sunday morning, on the apron of the race track, the owner approached the chosen partner. In a casual seeming conversation, she asked the vital question. "What would you do with Pal if I gave him to you?" Without missing a beat, a big smile spread across the partner's face. "Well, I'd love him, of course!" And then began to detail how he would demonstrate the kind gentle method of teaching called clicker training to whoever would slow down long enough to listen.

Very early on the morning of the 9th of April, 2004, the extra tall/extra wide trailer needed to accommodate the big horse bumped along up the driveway of Finch Meadow Farm. It was Pal's true fifth birthday. His owner had given him everything he had asked for. After the truck came to rest, the exhausted driver and horse stood together in the trailer after the long trip. His new owner stroked his neck and shoulder while telling him how beautiful and intelligent he was, waiting for his readiness to back off from the trailer. After unloading, Pal strode into his new home, looking around at his new friends who greeted him with excitement. He took a deep breath and nuzzled the new owner, who took him into his deeply bedded stall, fed him, and turned out the lights.

Happy birthday, Pal. I love you! You are home.