Barbaro

31 January 2007 1 Comment

I hate racing. Love TBs, but hate racing. It makes me cringe and leaves me feeling ill, and I just can’t watch it. I admire the legends who succeed at it in a general sort of way, the way I admire any athlete who is at the top of their game. But I’m not emotionally invested in them. So I may be the only horse person who will say this, but Barbaro the Racing Legend doesn’t captivate me. You won’t find me bidding $300 for a Breyer model of him anytime soon.

However. However.

I have followed the story of his recovery—not because he was a great race horse, but because… because of Super Saint, really.

The year before I bought Super Saint, he had a horrible accident at a show. I wasn’t there, but I heard it was heart-rending to see him immediately after. I had sort-of imagined the scene, but seeing the pictures of Barbaro was, in a way, like “seeing” Super Saint’s injury. Not that their injuries were the same, by any means—but that the situation was similar. I think many people in the area expected Super Saint would be euthanized.

Super Saint’s owners made the decision Barbaro’s owners did: give the horse a chance, every chance they could. We were in the same barn, and I spent the next year watching Super Saint and his recovery. We were all affected by it, even if we weren’t directly involved in his care or (obviously) any of the decisions.

I appreciated Super Saint while I owned him, but watching Barbaro this past year has brought home to me how close I came to not having that chance.

And as a result of all this, what drew me to Barbaro had nothing to do with his status as a legendary racehorse, although I acknowledge his story would never have been what it was without that status (how’s that for a conundrum?)—the powerful part of the story, for me, was that relationship between vet, owner, and horse. I think most horse owners have been through this at some point, to some degree—if not personally, at least on the edges of someone else’s experience. At the very least, most of us have at least given it serious thought:

What would you do to save your horse? What should you do? And when is it too much, so that the best choice you can make is to give the horse a peaceful ending?

Behind all the fame, and hype, and publicity, and money, Barbaro’s story was one we all worry we’ll face. In some cases, already have faced.

I followed his recovery not because I thought he was a great race horse who “deserved” to survive more than any other horse, but because here were owners trying their hardest to save their horse. That’s a story I’m emotionally invested in.

I am happy there are others who will celebrate Barbaro for his accomplishments as a race horse—I think he deserves that. And I know I’m not the only one thinking of his owners. But I can’t help but see Barbaro’s recovery without thinking of Super Saint—of how lucky I was his owners gave him a chance, and how doubly lucky that he recovered, and, eventually, the decision I had to make for him.

It’s a bittersweet mix of emotions that has very little to do with a race track and quite a bit to do with the simple joy and risk of owning a horse. Any horse.

Horses and Riding, Generally Horse Related, Horses I Have Known, Super Saint

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