The heat is on as the yearlings take centre stage

By Jack Davison

Ugh – it’s hot, the air is heavy, and so too is my now sweat-soaked t- shirt. Still though, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Being out in the heat is what it’s all about, isn’t it? June is here, the thermometer shows it and so too does that shiny lather of sweat that will become a constant companion throughout the next three months. From dawn to dusk, the days are testing, both physically and mentally. Man, do I look forward to that cleansing and refreshing cold shower after work, not to mention the even more refreshing bud light that is perched proudly in my section of the fridge. The thoughts of that ice- cold brew has dragged me through some hot and heavy afternoons and given me the energy to carry those last few water buckets, wrestle that last syringe of antibiotics into the clamped -shut mouth of that God forsaken foal, and stack those last itchy hay bales with their skin ripping bailing twine.

The last foal of the season emerged on Saturday night, which did not only spark a monstrous celebratory night out but it also spelled the beginning of the yearling preparation for the up and coming sales period. The anticipation is killing me. I have been here before and I’m back for some more. I can’t wait to get stuck into it. So what is it? Maybe it’s the lunging, the hand walking, the grooming, the showing, the endless bandaging or the positive reinforcement (too put it nicely) that I’m looking forward to dishing out. The whole series of activities that go before the sale itself and that culminate so sharply and cruelly in that sales ring, is an epic journey for both man and horse. When the yearling you have worked with day after day, for months on end embarks on his/her final journey under your consignment’s ownership, down the chute, and into the hustling bustling sales complex, it is out of your hands. The sales ring itself is not too dissimilar to the colosseums that I remember reading about in history class. A lot less bloodshed, yes, but the raucousness of the ring infects the galleries no end as various buyers fight for their bit of prized horse flesh. For the groom however, well, you have to wait outside, where all you can do is just sit, wait and hope. Bang! It is not until that hammer hits down hard and the auctioneer casually thanks the buyer for his/her purchase (all going well that is) that you can close the book on that chapter and await a whole new script as the unnamed colt or filly, who may as well be Zenyatta or Sea The Stars to you, leaves your care and delves into the unknown.

In other news after a series of driving scares, which frankly, could probably be otherwise called near death experiences, I have firmly established that my car, and again I say car with a lot of hesitancy and uncertainty, does not handle the soft going. No, she likes it firm- like the road. Let’s hope it doesn’t rain for the next three months then. I also took it upon myself to ‘Pimp my ride’ and she is now sporting a black spray painted horseshoe that stands tall at the front of the bonnet with all the finesse and strength of character that William Wallace displayed, prior to leading his troops into battle in the movie, Braveheart!

By Jack Davison