Why I Don’t Bet
I entered a Triple Crown fantasy game because it was a) free and b) easy.
All I have to do is pick three horses in each race. I don’t even have to rank them—points are distributed on some sort of sliding scale across the whole field.
So I did the obvious:
I picked Dialed In, as the favorite. Surely he’s the favorite for a reason, right? Right? When someone figures out that reason, let me know, because he seemed a whole lot more dialed out than dialed in during the race.
Then I picked Nehro, as a strong contender in a bad spot. Before you congratulate me on my awesome pick, know this: half an hour before our choices were locked in, I decided I liked Archarcharch better for my contender-in-a-bad-spot pick. Whoops. In my defense, I’m on a lot of pain meds. That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it.
The I picked Pants on Fire, as a mid-pack contender with a sentimental story. But when I switched Nehro out for Archarcharch, I decided I’d also switch Pants on Fire out for Mucho Macho Man, because everyone was going on about how Rosie wanted to be the first female jockey to win the Derby, but no one was saying “and this is the horse to give her that win.” Besides, I liked MMM’s sentimental story better. This, at least, was a better pick, although not enough to make up for the Nerho/Archarcharch debacle.
So: observe. In a 19-field race, I picked, at one time or another, five horses I thought could win. A whole quarter of the field. Not one of them won.
And one of my picks broke his leg.
Of course, this raises concerns about the Preakness. And the Triple Crown race.
What if I pick the horse you want to bet on? I might as well have been the one who burned your money. What if Animal Kingdom enters and I pick him? There goes the Triple Crown dream for yet another year.
Obviously, it would be a public service for me to avoid picking Animal Kingdom. You can nudge my sense of public duty along by sending me chocolates, if you like. And if there is a horse you really, really want to bet… I accept checks and money orders. I’ll make sure I pick someone (anyone) else. That should increase your odds of winning considerably.
And for a very sizable donation, I’ll send you a list of the horses I’m not even considering, because Animal Kingdom didn’t even cross my radar when I was making selections.
It’s even better than insider knowledge: you’ll have access to the world’s worst betting instincts, in reverse.
April: Goodbye and Good Riddance
This post comes with its own drinking game: take a shot every time a new injury or illness is mentioned. Put your local poison control on speed dial; you might want them later.
So, when last we talked about anything serious, it was early April. I was supposed to be moving Ro to a new barn and Ro was up to her eyeballs in snot. I resisted putting a paper bag over her head, but I did sneak her in under cover of darkness.
Fortunately, the move went well. I received a hairy eyeball or two the first couple days, but a few well-chosen words to a few well-chosen people did the trick. News seemed to spread through the rumor mill that my horse was not contagious, and the hairy eyeballs stopped. Learn from me, grasshopper: the trick to controlling barn gossip is to start your own rumors before others can start them about you.
The antibiotics ran their course, and the sinus infection cleared up. We started getting back to work. I broke my foot.
I admit, it isn’t a bad break. It took me a week to decide to go to the ER, and the ER tossed me a funky shoe, some narcotics, and sent me on my way. Don’t ride, they said. I considered their advice. If they really wanted me to stay off a horse, I reasoned, they’d have put an actual cast on me. That went up to my hip. I am having a hard time taking their funky shoe seriously. I decided I would ride without stirrups and be careful about dismounting, which seems like a reasonable compromise to me.
Life continued. Ro seemed to be staying healthy. I realized a local barn is putting on a schooling show in early May, and it would be a perfect first show for Ro and I. Of course, there’s the whole no stirrups thing… I emailed the organizers to find out if I could ride HC.
Ro, who is better connected than I realized, caught wind of my plans. Just when the organizers got back to me to tell me riding HC was not a problem, Ro came up snotty. Figures. I suppose I should be grateful she did this before I sent in the entry fees and not after.
This was last Friday. I called my vet and caught him at a busy moment, but we’d already talked about our next step if the infection came back. We quickly agreed it was time to drill a hole in her head (yeah, ok, that’s not quite how he put it, but “flush out her sinuses” is not nearly as dramatic, so go with me here), tentatively agreed on Tuesday, and that was that.
Well, except for the fact that “that” left me alone with Google for the weekend, which was probably not a good idea. There are porn filters and kid-friendly filters out there… why hasn’t anyone invented a filter for hypochondriacs yet? It could redirect any medical-type sites to a page with fluffy kittens and “Don’t Worry” spelled out in big, friendly letters.
But no. By Sunday, I was so convinced my horse was on the verge of dropping dead, I couldn’t even go out to see her.
And then on Monday I went out and found her looking perfectly healthy. No snot. No dried crust of snot. No snot rubbed off on her legs. I gave her the hairy eyeball and lunged her, thinking that would bring something out. No snot.
Conclusion: Ro just doesn’t want to go to schooling shows. Since I had already sent my regrets to the organizers, she was in the clear. In all senses.
I was sure that if I canceled Tuesday’s appointment she would be dripping snot Tuesday evening. But if I kept it, she’d probably be perfectly healthy again. So I compromised and emailed the vet, explained the situation, and asked him to come anyway.
Ro compromised by having some traces of snot again.
We decided to do xrays and go from there. The xrays were… not clear. There’s no massive pocket of pus, but there’s an iffy area in one sinus and a possible tooth infection. The vet wants to take a closer look at the xrays and will probably get a second opinion on the tooth, so we didn’t do anything else today. The good news is that the xrays don’t show any compelling reason to flush out her sinuses, so we’ll probably explore some more targeted but still conservative treatments, depending on how the xray readings go.
Meanwhile, for those of you still in the drinking game, my older cat is declining and my younger cat is on a hunger strike to protest the new brand of food I bought. Apparently they felt left out of all the drama.
But hey - all of this is stuff that can be dealt with. The fact that it’s all hitting at the same time is pretty exhausting, but none of this is unmanageable. That’s something, at least.
Sponsor an Embryo
Ro wants to be pregnant. You can tell from the way she hussies up to everything that moves and some things that don’t when she comes into season.
The geldings are perplexed and would like someone to save them, pls thanks.
But I… am realistic about my budget.
Fortunately, a friend has helped me see a way around my budget issues, and so I introduce to you my brand new “Sponsor an Embryo” program.
Your charitable (in a non-501-c-3 way) donation will be used to grant Ro her hormone’s desire, save the poor perplexed geldings, and keep my cats and I off the street at the same time. Three awesome benefits for one low monthly donation!
But wait—there’s more!
Ro’s would-be Baby Daddy has been hand-picked to enhance her natural strengths while improving on her few, hardly-worth-mentioning flaws. In the interest of full disclosure, I’d like to point out that being chestnut is not a flaw, so sponsors may not complain when the foal pops out chestnut (and it will, oh yes). This carefully selected breeding will result in a red-headed stick of dynamite, also known as my future competition mount.
Your contribution to the Embryo Project will not only solve all our immediate problems and bring peace to our little corner of the world, it will also support the future of Dressage As I Know It.
But wait! There’s more!
We recognize that this economy is tough on everyone. Pennies are tight. Happiness is slim.
So this project has been specially designed to allow you to contribute at a rate that is comfortable for you, while boosting your happiness and, according to something we read on the interwebz somewhere, also lowering your cholesterol. We offer three sponsorship levels so you can balance your budget against your health and make the right choice for you:
Warm Fuzzy Feelings Level
For only $10/month, we will send you monthly fat-mare photos from conception to the birth of the foal. Share in the joys of a rapidly expanding belly and other udderly-fascinating photo ops. After the foal’s birth, we’ll send you weekly foal photos. Warm fuzzy cuteness!
Karma Builder Level
For only $25/month, we will send you weekly fat-mare photos and a monthly video so you can waddle along with us on this, our maiden journey. After the foal’s birth, you can discover a whole new world with us via weekly photos and monthly videos! Your good deeds will surely earn you karma points!
Salvation of a Nation Level
Are you itching to do good at a level that would credit small nations? For only $100/month, you will have access to weekly photos and videos before and after birth—you’ll be so overwhelmed in warm, fuzzy cuteness and karma points that you’ll be able to share the love freely, saving yourself and those around you from bleak despair.
And as if that weren’t enough—
Any sponsor who makes an additional one-time, $100 donation will buy earn the right to suggest a name for the foal.
An additional $500 donation will ensure your initials are added after the foal’s name, no matter what name is chosen. Just think—a lifetime of competition with your initials being called out over the loudspeaker each time I enter the ring! Or, you know, your enemy’s initials, if you are afraid I’ll bungle things. Whatever.
And, finally, for the discerning sponsor, a special additional $1,000 donation will give you all the benefits of the other one-time donations plus 24/7 access to an online foaling camera so you can watch and call me when she goes into labor so I can get my beauty rest and witness the miracle of birth.
Act now! The sooner you sign on as a sponsor, the sooner this can become a reality for all of us!
In case you didn’t know horses are food-driven animals…
Since I don’t have many pictures of Ro, I thought I would take some while she was out grazing this evening.
A good idea in theory, but as soon as she saw me coming, Ro lead the retreat:
Having retreated as far as they could, they paused to reconsider. That’s the Lady Who Sometimes Brings Treats, and she’s not carrying a halter. Maybe our retreat was a bit hasty…
Ro came close enough to find out if I did, in fact, have treats:
Reminded me that there was grass she could be eating, and time was wasting…
And then, when no treats were forthcoming, wandered away again.
I guess that puts me in my place.
Do you *have* to be brave to event?
While hacking around the property today, we came across a ditch.
I asked Ro to cross, and she wasn’t so into that. We tried a different location, and I felt like she was considering just jumping the thing.
Suddenly, instead of asking her to go forward, my body was telling her: Hey, go forward, but not, like, too forward. In fact, if you want to stop with your toes on the edge of the ditch, that’s cool. We can stand here and contemplate the alligators hiding in the ditch. We both know they’re there, so, you know, no need to rush here. Maybe staring into the ditch is enough for today. Want to go get a latte?
Then I realized that was silly, we went back to the original crossing point, and rode across like sensible people and ponies.
However, I get the feeling this doesn’t bode well for our future wanna-be-eventing career.
One of us should be brave, right?
Or is this something we can get over with more experience for both of us? I admit I’ve been an arena flower all my riding life, but the new barn boarders a great trail system—we can get out and about very easily and get experience for both of us. Maybe we can get brave together, as long as we don’t actually see alligators. Nah, we won’t run into alligators. Snakes, maybe.
Um… let’s not think about that. Let’s think about all the ditches we can find and cross. We shall build character. Lots and lots of character.
And maybe some bridges.