I received the following email just before this past weekend’s Kentucky Derby…
Hello Patrick. Thanks for your incredible passion and defense of our horse friends. Here is a tribute I wrote on Derby Day 2024 to an OTTB who touched my life deeply but all too briefly. Feel free to use it if you think it can help. It’s a sad but true story.
Christopher Ellsworth
“Derby Day”
Today is Derby Day.
I won’t be watching.
And I won’t be placing a two dollar bet or cheering on a photo finish.
And I sure won’t be drinking any mint juleps.
Instead, I’ll be thinking about Kennecott, a friend of mine who died from racing. He was not one of the 800 or more horses who officially die a track-related death every year. That honor is accorded only to those horses who die within 72 hours of a track injury. Kenny was fortunate enough to survive for three more painful years. But the track got him in the end, as it very often does. There are no statistics for dying like that.
Kennecott was not his registered name. That was Capacitor. I read his lip tattoo and looked it up. It wasn’t his second name either, that one was some vulgar cocktail I’d never heard of and didn’t care to remember. I bought him off a young track horse-flipper who said (with her most pseudo-adult giggle), “I name all my horses after alcohol.”
So I named him Kennecott, which has meaning only to me and seemed more respectful. He wasn’t entirely sound but he had the kindest eye and the most innocent expression. I mean, just looking at him made you want to smile, and he had this thing he did with his tail when he turned his head to look at you. It curled around like a little “hello” wave – so I bought him on the spot. He’d be a gift to my wife. I thought they’d be perfect together, and I hoped to rehab him back to some version of health.
Alas, I made no progress. None. Even after consulting with an excellent rehab specialist to see if I was missing something, we got nowhere. So it was off to the vet for diagnostics. After a full set of spinal radiographs, along with internal and external ultrasounding, the news was grim. His lumbar sacral joint was deteriorating and the disc was disintegrating. Actually, this is fairly common in racehorses. As the good doctor explained, the repetitive, high-intensity flexion of the L/S during racing and training doesn’t do nice things for a two-year-old spine. Pain management was all that was left.
It was springtime a year and a half later. It was beautiful and warm and green. All my geldings were making the best of it, running around and exuding the kind of unencumbered joy that horses are so good at. Except Kenny. He could only stand and watch. And wish. I stood beside him and wished he could join them too. But in that moment I knew – it was time. Six-year-old Thoroughbred geldings don’t stand around and watch all the other horses run and play, not if they can help it.
Another vet visit for Kenny, the last one. This time my trusted local vet came out to the ranch. My wife and I couldn’t even be there for his last moments as we’d contracted Covid and dared not expose our veterinarian/friend. All we could do was watch from the hill above the barn as she finished what horseracing started.
Kennecott remained true to himself all the way through it. He lay down quiet and peaceful, a gentleman to the end. From my perch on high, I saw his beautiful life begin to fade away. And then – the last thing he ever did – Kenny curled his tail and gave us a little wave goodbye.
That goodbye slays me to this day. I can’t forget it. It’s why I won’t be watching the Derby and I won’t be cheering. I’m going to use my voice for the horses instead, the ones you see, and the ones you don’t.
I won’t judge you if you decide to watch them run for those roses but please, spare a thought for Kenny while you’re placing your bet and drinking your mint julep. He deserves that much.
In his final months, Kenny experienced something the track had never given him: peace, kindness, and human compassion. He learned to recognize soft voices and gentle hands. He stood quietly under the sun. Though his body could not be healed, his spirit was comforted. When the time came to end his suffering, Kenny went with dignity.
In this often dark plane we find ourselves in, every once in a while a bit of divinity shines through, sometimes in the form of a horse. Thank you for sharing your experience in such a beautiful way. Love lives on forever, doesn’t it.
Thank you for sharing.
This experience had us crying! Nothing sadder than a horse not being able to run & play when the horse wants to. We were invited to a free pizza house Derby party on Derby day. We said no thank you! We spent the day with our beloved horses all day instead, The economics of racing will do racing in. It will take time. If all the subsidies are eliminated racing will be gone.
Thank you for sharing a story that every horse owner should identify with. Your words painted pictures in my mind of who Kenny was, what he meant to you and what his future should have been — a long, pain-free retirement spent grazing with his herd. Sadly, your words also revealed the painful reality of what Kenny was to the industry. In the racing industry, every horse is valued solely by what they can do to make money for those associated with them. When the potential for income disappears, so do the horses; regardless of what they have sacrificed. Kenny was a sweet soul who deserved so much more, but he will be not be forgotten. 💕
Such a beautiful tribute to this magical brave being. It breaks my heart that you could not be there, by his side as he continued his Journey in another life. Look around for him, as he will be near you often, That tail wave is a precious gift. Cherish it. <3
Maybe we can show the public where the subsidies the racing industry receives actually goes. We here a lot about the jobs created. Could we go to some of these tracks and take pictures of some of the “horseman”. There will be some nicely attired and professional looking. There will be many that look like street people with obvious substance abuse issues. If they ever went into the backside of some of these tracks and drug tested you will find out where you tax dollars through subsidies are going. After pictures are gathered we can vote for “Horseman of the week”.
Thank you for sharing this story of a real horse who suffered immensely at the hands of people who didn’t care about him as a sentient being but only as a commodity.