John Henry

There is good news on 32-year old legend John Henry. The old fellow’s kidneys appeared to be failing back in September, but as is his custom, John Henry seems to have rallied and is doing well. In the various stories about him that appeared, it came out that apparently he really likes to eat chocolate donuts.

I didn’t know horses could eat chocolate. A champion racehorse who loves chocolate donuts. That is a horse after my own heart.

I’ve considered driving down to the Kentucky Horse Park. I’d really like to see John Henry. It would be the chance to see a living legend. Maybe at the end of the month.

I was the prototypical girl who loved horses. The “Sport of Kings” particularly caught my interest. I especially liked Walter Farley’s books about the Black Stallion and my favorite was one called the Black Stallion’s Courage. My favorite “real horse” was the incomparable, terribly tragic, almost perfect Ruffian.

I haven’t really followed horse racing since Barbaro. Despite following horse racing for years, I had a bad habit of picking the Derby loser; being my choice was assurance that the poor horse would lose … my list of loser picks is long, but distinguished (Bet Twice, Easy Goer, Mr. Frisky, Point Given, you get the picture). Barbaro was the first horse I picked who actually won, so I figured he was going to be special. Alas, Barbaro proved to be special and inspiring — though for a terribly different reason. The saddest words are these: It might have been.

(Oh, how a Cleveland Indians fan really understands those words. Speaking of which, I’m hanging my old-school style “C” cap on the Indians winning the World Series and thereby somehow giving the year 2007 redeeming value. Yes, I like to wear my cap down low over my eyes and yes, I really do have that much hair left after 8 cycles of ABVD. Really, though as Michael says, may the best team win.)