Nopie--- The Funny Name Horse and His Rescue by Two Women Miles Away

The story of Nopie is the second in the series of December stories. I met Nopie at GEVA (Glen Ellen Vocational Academy) in Northern California in June of this year. A four year old colt, he was already well traveled by the time he arrived at GEVA. As a colt, he has tons of personality and was charming and pulled me in with his talent for getting into mischief (including figuring out how to open up the refrigerator door located just outside his stall).

Photo of Nopie by Christine Churchill

Here is his story and the ladies that saved him, Joyce and Chelle: (As told by Anne Koletzkep, GEVA volunteer):

On a cold winter day at Nebraska's Fonner Park, February 20, 2009 to be precise, just three days before his 4th birthday-- a dark bay horse with improbable name Nopie ran his last race. At least he tried to. He stumbled coming out of the gate, pulled up lame, and was vanned off the track. We now know he pulled his suspensory ligament and in doing so tore away a piece of the sesamoid bone in his left front ankle. The real tragedy of this already sad story is that Nopie should never have been entered in the race in the first place.

Nopie's story, what we know of it, began on a happy note in Northern California in December 2008, when he won two races back-to-back at Golden Gate Fields. But the note quickly turned sour when he didn't even place in his next race. Something had to be wrong. And it was- X-rays taken in January 2009 revealed that there was an irregularity developing in the sesamoid bones of his left ankle. Instead of giving the horse's ankle the rest it needed--which would have been costly especially for a lower level claimer as Nopie-- his owner transferred him to a trainer in Arizona to see how he would do in al lower-level claiming race. Again, Nopie finished in the back of the pack. So Nopie was sold to an owner/trainer in Nebraska, who was fully aware of Nopies' compromised ankle, kept Nopie in training and entered him in the race at Fonner Park.

Fortunately, Nopie had something going for him that, in a very real sense, saved his life-- his BIG, PLAYFUL, SUNNY personality. A personality that two women, Joyce and Chelle, had fallen in love with when they had met him at Golden Gate Fields. Assuming Nopie had been retired because of his ankle, Chelle and Joyce were horrified to find out he was entered to race at Fonner Park. Desperate to save him from what they feared was certain disaster, they pulled out all the stops to try and buy him before that race, but the owner refused, because he was absolutely certain his horse was going to win. After the race, of course, he was only too eager to sell. Chelle and Joyce hadn't been able to save the horse from disaster, but at least they had him. Nopie was coming home.

But Nopie needed a place to stay where he could be tended to while he gained some much needed weight and his leg healed. To the delight of everyone at GEVA, Chelle and Joyce chose to place him in Pam's capable hands until he was well. Since Nopie was looking at 6 to 9 months of confinement, Pam created a small paddock for him in front of his stall so he could spend his days getting lots of fresh air and watching the other horses on the farm. Her original plan was that Nopie would spend his nights inside the stall, but Nopie soon made it clear he didn't think much of that idea, so the paddock become his full-time home. Now, 7 months later, he has graduated to having simultaneous access to both his paddock and his stall, and judging from the number of times he moves from one to the other during the day, he very much approves of this new arrangement.

Such long term confinement is a lot to ask of a horse, but Nopie has not only risen to the challenge, he has managed to maintain his BIG, PLAYFUL, SUNNY personality through it all. That said, there's no denying that BIG, PLAYFUL, SUNNY, however endearing, is not always easy to live with. For example should you decide to tidy up Nopie's paddock, here is what awaits you:

Oh boy, look, a playmate is coming to my paddock. Can we play? Can we play? Huh? Can We? No? You have work to do? Well, OK, I can help, I can help. Yes I can. Oh, I'm sure I can. Like what's this? Your hat? Well what's that for? Don't you think it'd look better over here on the floor? Hey, what's this long pole? Handle of the pitchfork? Wow, look at how I can move it around with my shoulder; I'm sure that helps you so much. Here, let me move it some more. Hmmm. Maybe if I chewed on it, I'd be helping you even more. Wow, you got a carrot in these pockets? No? I'll bet you do. Let me just check and see for myself. Boy, this is really a deep pocket. You sure there's nothing in the bottom here, just over here in this little corner? Hey, what's this funny looking tab on the front of your jacket? Oh, wow, if I get it between my teeth and pull it, it goes up and down. This is really fun, don't you think? Up and down and up and down. You leaving? Why are you leaving? We were just getting started. Oh, oh my, maybe you're going to get me carrots. No, no, not that way, over here, in the big white box that's cold inside and has the door I know how to hold open with my chin. Oh nuts, you're going over to visit that other horse. Phooey! He gets all the attention. Like I'm not hurt, too. See, here my left leg? See? The one I'm pawing up all the bedding with? That's the one. It's hurt really, really, bad. You need to come check it out. I'll bite all the wrapping off if you don't. Oh wait! You're not stopping to see that the other horse after all, you're going to the buckets. The buckets! Food! OH WOW, you've got MY BLUE BUCKET! You're rinsing out MY BLUE BUCKET. YOU'RE GOING TO BRING ME FOOD! But no, you've put my bucket down. You must have forgotten I'm over here. I'd better make some noise to remind you. Hey, I'm over here! Here! Here! Over Here! Me!!! The one with the hurt leg and all his ribs showing-well, they used to be showing-- I'm hurt! I'm starving! I'm.....Excuse me, but where do you think you're going? You're leaving me here? All alone?! You're going off to do what? To go clean water tanks? You're going to clean water tanks instead of staying here to play with me? Are you out of your mind?! Hello...anyone there? Hmphf! Oh well, She'll be back. She always comes back. They all do. They dote on me. And how could they not. I'm Nopie!

To learn more about Nopie (or visit him) and the other residents of GEVA go to the website at http://www.glenellenfarms.com/

What a Thoroughbred Taught a Person--- The Story of "Puppy"

This month I am dedicating The Second Race blog to stories of ex-race horses that have touched the lives of those that either adopted them, rescued or just loved them. My hope is in sharing stories this month, a few of the horses currently listed with our group (or any group for that matter) may find their way to a new home.




The first in the series of stories is by author Diane Tuorto......






"Puppy" AKA Regal Destroyer, photo Diana Tuorto

I met my Thoroughbred gelding, Puppy (registered name Regal Destroyer) in 1998, while taking lessons on a farm in New Jersey. Then 15 years old, Puppy had endured a hard life, having been shuffled from owner to owner. His early years were spent racing in Fingers Lake region of New York state; he remained there for five long years. While Puppy was a stalker, not a sprinter, his owners continued to enter him in six furlong races, where his performances were always noted as "tried hard in the end". He regularly came in second or third, but rarely won a race, earning barely over $ 10,000 in his many years on the race track.

At a towering 17.2 hands, Puppy next found work as a jumper, where he excelled in four foot courses. He had an amazing work ethic and also had the movement and responsiveness to succeed in 2nd level dressage competitions. By the time I met Puppy, this schoolmaster was working as a lesson and pleasure horse.

Puppy was a perfect example of a horse who was a bit TOO well trained. A friend of mine demonstrated this one day when she had forgotten something up at our barn. She said to leave Puppy. tacked up and alone, in the indoor arena and asked him to "stand". He stopped and stood perfectly still. When we returned, nearly five minutes later, there he stood, having not budged an inch or even lowered his head.

When his stall was left open one night, Puppy wandered outside to eat some grass (judging by the hoof prints), but by morning, was standing straight in his stall as if the door had been closed behind him. Thankfully, over our time together, Puppy realized that wasn't all about work and started to enjoy being silly and playful -- even small things like rubbing his head against my back seemed difficult for him to feel comfortable doing, but as the months went by, he learned that he wouldn't be scolded for what must have previously thought of as "bad behavior".

I had always loved Thoroughbreds, but had never been comfortable jumping any horse; under Puppy's guidance and patience, I soon took on fences, dressage, and hunter paces-- Puppy was willing to try whatever I asked and provided the confident partner I needed to overcome my nerves and excel at different disciplines of riding.

I purchased Puppy in 2000, but sadly, in February 2002, I was forced to put Puppy to sleep when degenerative arthritis in his spine and back (from a starting gate accident years before) had taken its toll on him. I still miss him terribly.

One thing Puppy and many other ex-racehorses have taught me is perseverance. Even when Puppy continued to lose on the racetrack, or in other disciplines, it was always noted how he would constantly give it his all, never complaining, hesitating, or showing any signs of the arthritis that ultimately took his life until the absolute end. Puppy was a fighter. His character and presence inspired me so much that I committed myself to write a novel loosely based on his life, which became Luck of the Draw, the story of a Thoroughbred racehorse that never gives up.

Zenyatta--- The Lesson for Girls Everywhere

Zenyatta, Del Mar 2009. Photo credit: John Chun

Zenyatta crossed the finish line on Saturday in the Breeders Cup Classic to a roar of emotion shared by all in attendance. Whether it was tears of joy, amazement or knowing you were witnessing history in the making, all around me and throughout the stands, the win was felt in unison.

As the blush of the win wore off on late Sunday afternoon, I remembered something that I had read previously about Zenyatta. As a yearling, she was purchased for $ 60,000 the bloodstock agent who purchased her said he felt he had possibly made a mistake and was bidding on the wrong horse as he couldn't believe she had slipped through the cracks and he had been able to successfully purchase her at the low price.

The reason why she was only $ 60,000? She had a skin disease that made her less attractive or desirable even though she had "vetted" out well. On the surface she was passed over for other yearlings, who looked better. This got me to thinking about young girls who are passed over every day and have labels put upon them at a young age. These labels can hamper their development for the rest of their lives. So many young ladies today are diamonds in the rough, and I wish society embraced them as girls in transition, not airbrushed creations in magazines.

Now of course, Zenyatta didn't buy into any labels or even know she was dismissed for something superficial, nor did she know that she was bigger than the rest of the yearlings in the sales barn. Zenyatta didn't know that her bones were bigger, and that she would need time to grow into herself to bloom into the stunning mare she would become. But her handlers did. Zenyatta was able to start her first race at the age of three instead of the current trend of two. She was given the time to grow into herself. Patience was given to allow her to become the filly she should be to compete at the highest level. Not rushing her to become a precocious sparkler, but a full blown fourth of July fireworks display.

Girls need the same thing, the time to grow, be nurtured by those around them that care for their well being and to not be forced or rushed into being something that someone else wants them to be. Girls need to accept their bodies and its bounty (and its limitations) without pressure. A beautiful swan can just be under the ugly duckling exterior, love and time will expose both.

Zenyatta is a winner, nothing can take that away. Girls are winners too, my hope is in watching Zenyatta crossing the finish line, that the same girls with their "Zenyatta Rocks" posters last Saturday looked in the mirror that night and said "I rock too".