Have you noticed that most of our bios start the same way..."Always wanted a horse"..."begged my parents for a pony"

I used to ride the dog. Our German Shepard was a sweetie and at two years old I could manage to climb up on the arm of a big green chair and slide over on his back. He was good for a lap or two around the living room before he would sit down and let me fall off on my head. (Reminds me of the pony I'm riding now.)

Two years later my family spent the winter in Florida. There was a Pony Ride in between our house and the grocery store. After many trips and much begging my Dad stopped and spent the 25 cents it cost to make a little girl's dreams come true. It wasn't just the riding that was such a thrill, it was the feel of the pony's coat and the way she looked right at me with those huge shining eyes. I was hooked.

When my family lived up North, it was a cruel joke that we lived right next to my Uncle's dairy farm. There were lush green pastures and always a spot in the barn where a small pony might have been squeezed in, but I was repeatedly informed that "regulations" said horses and dairy cows couldn't live under the same roof. It sounded like a convenient excuse to me. But...  I waited, and drew piles of horse pictures, and played horse games, and built horse snowmen, and dreamed and saved my allowance to support to the local riding stable, and waited some more. I even went to the barn at milking time in the evening, and brushed the cows, pretending all the while that they were horses. I see now that I was practicing for the real thing.

I was pretty much grown-up and had just about given up on ever having my own horse when a boyfriend offered to buy me a horse for Christmas! The horse was just a little grade pinto gelding but probably one of the nicest horses I have ever owned. I remember that same boyfriend muttering something at the time, "You'll be tired of him in a few weeks! (poor mis-guided fool) Shortly, we had a mare and then we took the mare to be bred.  Then I was given another mare....you know how it goes.

Soon I needed a second job to pay for feed, hay and farrier service .  But, wow did I have fun! There were local trails everywhere and I knew them all.

I spent one summer working for a hack stable but hated the way the horses were treated .I knew I had to find a place where horses were respected.

I do not know if any of you have ever heard of the Hall Of Fame of the Trotter at the historic half-mile track, in Goshen, N.Y.? (Birth place of the Hamiltonian)  We lived about half an hour away and I had no trouble finding work at a Standardbred farm down the road.  I liked the breed immediately. They were high strung yet sensible, very bright and especially affectionate “people oriented” horses.

 The next 18 years are kind of a blur of breeding farms and training tracks, New York Sire Stakes races and the Meadowlands, Clint Galbraith and Niatross. There were long days and endless nights, hot sun and bitter cold, bright lights and driver's colors. We rode a thousand miles on

jog carts, shipped out to race all over 3 states, and felt the unique thrill of flying around the track in training miles with the white rail zipping by at fantastic speed.

I am aware that people have a low opinion of the racetrack. All I can say is that there are stupid people in every business. It is sad that a few rotten eggs get more press and seem to represent the hundreds of hard working, excellent horsemen who love their horses, pamper them and treat them like gold.

I ended up as a manager on a breeding farm/ training facility but in the early '90's found my back giving out and had to give up the life I loved so much. The experience was priceless.  I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

I re-trained and became a dog groomer and pursued that profession for another 12 years, but during all those years we had at least 4 riding horses and still rode whenever possible.

After I retired from racing, we brought home two Standardbreds and adopted another and have really enjoyed riding them in seven different states. They are tireless and dependable and actually know where they are on the trail more often than I do!! Too bad they are getting older now.  But  then... so am I.