Broadway Yankee
earned ribbons for his new owner his first time ever at a show.
Notes from the backstretch at Saratoga Harness Park
by C. Terry Holden
I remember their eyes.
All warm and sweet and brown like chocolate.
Bright with hope; wet with weary as I gazed
down the aisle of barn 13 at Saratoga Harness Park.
Horse after brown horse leaning over their Dutch doors
to see the stranger in their barn.
I wove my way through the dangling tie-chains;
side stepping tack trunks;
careful not to hinder busy trainers.
They treated wounds, wrapped legs,
harnessed their charges for a brisk jog in the autumn air.
The "season" was over;
only fitness remained and the long winter ahead.
Walking along, robust voices echoing through my head;
sounding as though far away.
"I'm here for Mr. C and Mr. M's horses," I explained.
The man bellowed their names through the barn and pointed to the end.
Noble brown horses.
All their brown, brown eyes following me as I walked on.
All curious and all telling.
Some very happy;
some very angry;
many very worried.
The air tickled with nickers and squeals
as stable mates teased at their neighbors.
Mr. M brought his horse out, slight and classy —
"nice lady's horse," I thought
as I kneeled to caress his swollen legs.
"We'll see what we can do —
amazing things sometimes happen."
I laid some gentle circles on his graceful neck;
he sighed with quiet relief and his face softened.
He turned to show me his eyes — concerned but willing.
Could he know how lucky he was?
Could he know he would come to Vermont?
That he would be protected?
That he would enjoy the rest of his life with a loving family?
His stable mate looked on; stretching as far as he could —
reaching for me, for my hands.
He had a small, raw clump draining from his chin;
a "dying" sarcoid having been "frozen" off.
It spoiled his kind face.
He kept reaching; kept asking for some touch.
I gave in and made tiny circles around his worried eyes
and down his smooth, massive neck.
His eye lids lowered over a distant dream;
his breathing softened.
Will he be here next time? I wondered.
I didn't even know his name;
yet he lay his head gently in my arms.
My heart was heavy for him.
Then time to think of the work at hand.
It was time to load the lucky ones;
two horses out of a barn of twenty.
Two owners honoring thier horses
with a gift of responsible retirement from racing.
Leading Broadway out, he walked easily
as his stable mates looked on.
One by one, I wondered where would they go,
how many would stay,
who would race next year,
who would be lucky,
how many would not?
We walked more slowly; my eyes welling up.
Awesome brown horses;
Beautiful brown eyes.
All of them watching. Some of them wishing.
One of them ... weeping.
I turned my own eyes to the ground.
It is a delicate line my heart must walk.
I thank God for two horses.
I pray for twenty - all the way home.
Broadway Yankee
earned ribbons for his new owner his first time ever at a show.
Sea Front
teaches driving at our clinics and helps with Horse Assisted Services