Would You Buy a Horse from this Man?

Some years ago I had this wonderful notion of owning my own racehorse; the thrill of winning, leading your horse into to winners enclosure, fame, fortune..........dream on!

My dream was real, my stumbling block, money, isn't it always?

Then I met a man who could make my dreams come true - or so he said. I met him through a friend of a friend who also had horses. Chatting away over a drink in the local pub my newly acquired friend suggested point to pointing, poor mans racing. Now if ever anyone uses this line with you, leave your drink and run. Unfortunately gullible if not a little naive, I believed him. Before I knew it I was telling him how much I had to spend and planning my racing colours! I do tend to get swept away in the emotion of things.

A few weeks later my new friend rang me to say he'd found the perfect horse for me, and cheap too, only £750!! I dashed round to see my soon to be winning pointer only to wonder where it was hiding. All I could find was an RSPCA case, thin chestnut mare who could windsuck for England. My disappointment obviously showed as he hastily explained that she was a little thin (the first of his many understatements!) and , yes, she did windsuck; but she was cheap and had raced. He failed to add that she had attended a race meeting at Taunton, had been traumatised by the tape at the start of a bumper and had ambled around last!! Her one and only race before her unimpressed trainer packed her off unceremoniously to Doncaster. In fact, her only claim to fame was that she ran in Cool Grounds colours a fact which I'm sure would not have pleased the great horse had he have known.

Never the less, undaunted we soldiered on. He 'trained' her, got her 'fit' and took her to the required amount of qualifying hunts. We even found some unsuspecting young jockey looking for rides for the coming season. I think I began to suspect something may have been amiss with his training methods when I arrived at the yard one morning to find that he had electrified her door to prevent her windsucking. It worked, she was standing at the back of her box - happily windsucking on a beam!

I was also slightly concerned when our 'jockey' returned from a schooling session claiming that she loved the gallops but was not to keen on jumping; would this hamper her I pondered?

The answer to my question was a resounding 'yes'. In her first race she looked a million dollars; unfortunately as we all know looks are not everything and she refused at the third firing her jockey in to the beautifully manicured hedge. Her second outing improved slightly, the two stayed together until the fifth before they parted company. Not to be out done, a few weeks later we set off again reassured by my trainer that he himself had jumped her and pronounced her safe as houses ad ready to run. This time she was to be sent off at the front from the start and make all.

Well, she did, until fence six, where jockey dismounted (he was certainly not unseated!) and the mare enjoying her new found freedom galloped ahead of the field riderless and the to my horror turned to run back toward the rest of the field. She was caught safely before she caused any accidents, thankfully and hurried back to the lorry. I think maybe it was at this point I decided that she was not racehorse material, call me a slow learner, but I got there in the end.

It was many months later that I saw a video of his schooling and realised it consisted of him riding round his pony paddock (all 16 stone of him) being chased by hi girlfriend with a lunge whip. In his defence my mare jumped, but certainly not for fun. The mare did not race again!

It was a while before I ventured into the world of pointing. When I did it was with an experienced schoolmaster, or so my 'trainer' informed me when he returned from the sales..............aahh, but that's another story!!


Pauline Goodman

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