Riding The Great's

I have been so touched by articles I've read about racehorse stories I decided I would begin sharing some of my best memories. I've worked with Thoroughbred's my entire life and for me, they reign supreme over all breeds. The privileges of working with great trainers and their horses are many, and I feel so fortunate that I was a part of it. Most of the horses had the best pedigrees money could buy, and many were Champions. Among them I have my favorites, but I’ve also ridden plenty of hard-knocking claiming horses who had little pedigree, but they had heart - and gave you everything they had. And then they gave more. And that is why I love Thoroughbreds so much.

Rangoon Rogue wasn’t a Champion. He was a hard-knocking allowance horse. He was well-bred, being sired by Vice Regent, and stood 16’3 hands. He had a glistening fiery red coat, three white socks, and a blaze down his face. He was gorgeous and we met the day he arrived at the rehabilitation center my ex-husband and I owned. With a minor injury to his suspensory ligament, he needed rest and therapy. Little did I know that the day I met Rangoon would change my life.

Once recovered, the time had come to start him back in training. For the first time in my riding career, the idea of getting on a 5-year-old in-tact horse who had been confined to a stall and hand walking for 6 months wasn’t something I was looking forward to. A month prior, I had my given birth to my son, and my fitness was poor to say the least. My confidence was shaky, but I was the main rider at our farm and the horse needed to be conditioned. I needed a reason to believe why I should continue putting my life in danger on these thousand-pound animals. I was getting older and suddenly had child to think about. I did start him back though, because like great horses who don’t quit, I wouldn’t quit either.

The day came and once saddled; the groom gave me a leg up. Nervously I walked him onto the training track and prepared for some sort of explosive energy. We began our jog, and I was pleasantly surprised by his quiet, professional manner. There we no explosions, but that didn’t keep me from over-reacting to even the smallest, most inconsequential move he made! I didn’t feel like myself at all. I was known for being a fearless rider who rode the tough horses – but that day I felt like an awkward beginner who didn’t belong on a racehorse. Rangoon didn’t seem to care. He ignored my clumsy movements and he behaved like a complete gentleman.

Those months riding Rangoon were pivotal for me. Because of him, my confidence was restored during a time I needed it most. A time when I felt vulnerable and uncertain. He gave me the strength to keep going, and he and I were in the same boat. We were both has-beens trying to make comebacks, and we did.

This story, unfortunately, is bitter-sweet. Though Rangoon had returned to the track, he suffered a career ending injury during a workout. His owner was a kind man who knew how much I loved the horse. He personally made the call to me and gave me the bad news and asked me to pick Rangoon up. The hope was to get him sound to be a riding horse - but was I in for a shock when he gave me Rangoon!

I drove my truck and trailer down to Santa Anita and parked in front of his trainer and my friend – Randy Bradshaw’s barn. I walked down the long-shed row; the horses greeting me with their curious faces poked out of their stalls. Rangoon was in last stall and I looked in to find him dozing in the back corner. I quietly called out to him saying, “Hey handsome. How’s my big guy doing?” He lifted his head, gave a soft nicker, and started towards me. It broke my heart to see him struggle to walk across the stall.

His legs wrapped and supported, he was well prepared for his travel. I walked into his stall and put his halter on. Leading him out very slowly, I stroked his neck and whispered “It’s okay big guy. We’re in no hurry. Let’s take this slow.” Outside the stall, he stopped and looked down the long barn aisle. What happened next still brings tears to my eyes. Though he was hurting, he raised his great neck and with his head held high, walked with as little lameness as he could. He was a proud horse and I think he wanted his stablemates to see him exit with dignity and strength. Once at the trailer, he calmly stepped inside, and we were united again.

During his recovery at the farm, I worked with him on a daily basis. He was well behaved and thoroughly enjoying all of the attention and carrots. While Rangoon was an ideal patient, it was becoming very clear that he would never be sound and pain-free. The kindest thing to do is often the hardest decision you have to make, and that is to consider what is best for the animal. I couldn’t bear to have him suffer or have to endure another 6 months in a 12 x 12 stall, so the painful decision was made to have him humanely euthanized.

The days leading up to our goodbye were crushing, but when it was time, I walked him outside into the sunshine with a bucket of oats and carrots in hand. After being on a limited diet during stall confinement, and knowing how much he loved to eat, I decided that I wanted his last moments to be the best possible. Setting the bucket down, he dipped his nose in and began gobbling the grain – never lifting his head out until he had finished. Tears flowing and stinging my eyes, I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and whispered in his ear. I thanked him for being so kind, and told him how much I loved him. I said I’d never forget him. I never have, and to this day his halter and front shoes are still displayed on a plaque. He is one of the Greats.

Lisa Erickson