What a week! They even put on a Winter Olympic Games to celebrate my 72nd
birthday … a day highlighted by a bottle of my favourite whisky and a bread-and-butter
pudding from Wendy, and a wonderful video of greetings made by my dearest
friends in Berlin … and even the horses did their bit!
Over in Sydney, little Zaffirina (of whom we own one hoof) had her first
start of the season. It was at Goulburn, in a field of eleven, over 1200
metres, and for goodness’ sake Zaffi was a warm favourite!
Five days later, it was the turn of Mister B otherwise Dynamite Paul.
Since his surprise qualifying effort at only second time on a race course, he’s
had a wee rest, and this was his first workout of the campaign which will lead
him to his debut in the real races. It was to be er … eventful. Murray was
doing quick turn-arounds, as he had horses in most heats. So having won the
trot heat with Chivasion he zoomed back home (opposite the race course) to leap
into the cart of Mister B, only to find chaos. Mister B had thrown a wobbler,
broken his gear, shed a shoe … why? Flies. Motukarara is a festival of flies. Hateful
itchy tickly things. The poor waiting horse had finally had enough of them, and
lashed out, caught a hoof in a hopple and just about turned his sulky over. So
while the rest of the field warmed up, Wendy and I, up in the stand, knowing
none of this, worriedly waited as Murray whanged on a new shoe … and finally
appeared over the horizon. No time for a warm up. But he got one.
Well, one more ‘rehearsal’ and it will probably be race day. I will see
our feller in a real race before I set off for the Winter Palace at Yamba, and
I think that – barring accidents – he won’t be finishing last!
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