Saturday Mornings - My Idea of Paradise

Some people might say that going to the beach is their favourite
thing to do in the weekend, others might love going to town, and some
people just the love the feeling of sleeping in. I don't. I don't
really like doing any of those things; there's something that I do in
the weekend that makes me count down the sleeps before I can do it all
over again. It's not sun bathing, it's not shopping and it's not
sleeping, it's going "to the track."

Every Saturday morning at about six o'clock, Dad and I get in the car
and go to Riccarton Racecourse. It's there where the fun begins. In the
float carpark we meet Leicester Woods and Duke, the racehorse.
Leicester gets Duke off the float and then hands me the leadrope. I
give him a pat, say hello, then take him round the back of the stables
to his stall. As I clip the chains onto Duke's halter and take off his
bit, he tries to nip me, unsuccessfully.

Dad and Leicester then come round with the saddle, bridle and cloths. I
undo Duke's rugs then help Leicester put on the saddle, Duke tries to
nip again but can't reach us. While we wait for Terry Moseley, Duke's
jockey, we talk to everyone around us about horses, racing, tales of
our lives and the past week's events. Sometimes I'll put Duke's bridle
on early and take him for a walk around the stalls. When we get to one
end, he always likes to have a look out at the track and if there's
another horse in front of us, Duke sets his head and puts on a fast
walk to try and pass this horse, as though he's in a race.

When Terry comes, he does up the girth and then jumps on top. We all
then walk out to the track and watch as Duke trots round the middle,
then goes onto a training track to really work.

It's an amazing feeling, being at the track. These beautiful, powerful
animals with tiny jockeys on top, trying their little hearts out, their
hooves hitting the ground like the sound of thunder. It makes you feel
good inside. "There is something abut the outside of a horse that is
good for the inside of a man " - Sir Winston Churchill
It's a great feeling to know that while everyone else is sleeping in
their warm beds, we can be out there, horses, trainers, spectators and
riders, in the cold morning, doing what we love most.

Duke comes back off track, hardly sweaty, has a quick munch of grass
and then goes back to his stall. Terry and Leicester talk about how he
went and then it's off to the hose to wash off the sweat. Duke is then
scraped dry before I take charge and walk him again to dry him off and
cool him down. Once he is dry, I put him in the roll, which is full of
sawdust. Inside, he rolls, bucks, squeals and peers out over the top.
Once he's finished it's off to the hose again to wash his legs. After
his final rinsing, I get a cloth and wipe the sawdust off his gleaming
coat. He tries to nip me again but after realising that he can't reach
me, settles for his chain instead.

Home time. We put on his rugs and then I take him out the way we came,
saying goodbye to everyone - Trainers, riders, owners, farriers,
helpers. When Duke is on the float and the ramp is up, I'm left facing
the long week ahead before I can come again. I get home and it's only
eight thirty, I've got a long day, no&;#8230; week ahead of me, how
on earth am I going to fill it&;#8230;?