We went to the races last night. Hubby took all the guys that work for him and the spouses out to thank them for a huge contract that just shipped. A nice evening - dinner, good company, horse racing...
I came out ahead, which is always nice. It also just makes Hubby shake his head - I know how to read a racing form - back in the days before family responsibilities took over our lives, we were part owners in a stable of Standardbreds. So I learned what all the little numbers and stuff on a racing form mean, and I can somewhat intelligently disseminate the qualities of each horse, and make educated guesses.
I don't.
I pick horses by name and by the colours of the jockey's silks.
Barbara - I owe you. My big win came on a horse named Cat's a Glitter, but most importantly, his dam (mother) was named ShadowCat. How could I resist? It was interesting to explain that I picked the horse because it's dam had the same name as a recently passed cat owned by a friend in Burbank that I have never met, but we share a love of knitting, and well, whatever. I won.
Unfortunately, Rowan Road didn't win. (I think he's still running...)
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3 comments:
I worked weekends on a Thoroughbred farm in Kettleby for a year through Grade 13. These were pampered horses but I didn't like the racing aspect that the animals had to endure. That and all the injuries they were treated for and their bone problems, it was too much. I never had a desire to own a horse after that (unless it was a rescue who needed a retirement home).
Whoa! Someone who wins on a horse, and then picked it because of my dear little Shadow. Fantabulous!
I've never been to a horse race, and I live less than 20 miles from the fabled Santa Anita. How dorky is that??
There are worse ways to make picks - I'd've totally picked Rowan Road too!
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