The early days
The Decrepit OTTB was not always decrepit! I know - surprise, right?! He was born in Paris, Kentucky, across the street from fancy pants Claiborne Farm if I recall correctly. He was by a Deputy Minister son who wasn't up to much, and his dam was sold with pre-Decrepit pre-OTTB in utero to this farm. They foaled him out, and sold him on. I try to imagine him as a bouncy, inquisitive frolic of orange fur. Then reality sets in and I imagine him being a little ratbag. Yes, that's my boy
He went off to be a racehorse, and ran three times at ritzy places like Del Mar. He was about second to last in all three races and barely won enough to pay for vetrap for the bowed tendon he got. Pah!
So, all washed up he was sent to the kill pen in Bakersfield.
The Theme Park Days
He was picked up by Knots Berry Farm, the amusement park in S CA, and trained to pull a 4 in hand stagecoach. I imagine the little chestnut hooligan was not up for this. They named him Champ probably because he was relentlessly champing at the bit, or at other horses or people, or walls or vets or farriers. I expect he hated it, I expect someone got hurt, and after a year they gave up after what I imagine was an OSHA claim from some hapless park employee, or the Decrepit One just cracked and mauled an innocent park visitor or something. I don't know.
They dumped him back in the kill pen. Charming.
The Acquiring of the Beast
A nice lady named Gail used to go to the kill pen and post pictures of the knackered animals there, with a little blurb about them. This was her blurb about him:
#250 Chestnut TB Gelding. Blaze. Appx. 7-8 yrs. old. Appx. 16 hands. Looks like he might be a Running Quarter? This horse also drives (as you can see from the light colored spot on his mane where an ill fitting collar was!) A nice young horse with potential. He would require an experienced rider.
I saw this, and his photo, and as I had recently moved to the USA and was missing riding, and had a friend kind/crazy enough to agree to go in on this venture, decided to save his life dammit. She told me I could drive the trailer from SF to LA because I had done it before (I hadn't) and now that I think back I don't think I had a US drivers license either... but NOTHING was going to stop me getting that horse.
We stopped at a tack shop on the way so I could buy travel boots because Pony Club. It was 7 hours to get there, we were there a total of 15 minutes (to apply the boots, endure the resultant withering disgust of the seller, pay the $0.98/pound, and place horse in trailer), and we came right back home.
The horse screamed his head off the entire way, and my friend played country and sang along which at the time I hated, while I white knuckled that trailer home. Like I said: NOTHING was stopping me.
During the ride I decided to name our fine new beast General Mayhem. He hopped off the trailer at 2.30am dead lame. Pfft.
The Adventures
I owned that animal for 17 years. I found out he was a 6 yr old OTTB and the other info in the next few months with some sleuthing - no idea what happened between age 3 and 6, aside from the 1 year at the amusement park.
We did a lot of stuff together: hunter paces, eventing, dressage, point to points, side saddle, team penning, drag hunting, hunter under saddle, show jumping, multi-night trail camps, barrel racing and trick training. Won lots of ribbons and a few trophies. But gradually he became decrepit. At 15 I retired him - we were schooling Training/Prelim x-c and I thought he was a bit off... and it was ringbone. I decided to stop: the only things we both really loved were jumping and galloping, and without those what was the point? He was retired on 30 acres for 8 years and he loved it. I saw him every day.
The End
He had recurring sinus infections this year, became a hard keeper, and just wasn't right. The second round of sinus drilling and 2 weeks in rehab he came home worse than before... and very lame, with a huge stifle. Into a stall he went, onto the bute, and he was starting to look and move better... Rads showed bad things though; he was scheduled for ultrasound, but the joint suddenly fell apart overnight... and I had to let him go last Thursday. He put up a solid fight over the Injection of Doom, and what can I say - he was right all these years: the damn vets WERE out to get him!
It was a torn anterior cruciate - my vet called me today to say he'd got the horse off the deadstock truck and opened up the joint so he could tell me he'd made the right call for sure.
So yeah. I'm having a sad.
I'll post some photos later...