I Hate Horses

Just a little reminder to anyone who is thinking about owning a race horse: Please, for the love of Pete’s sake, don’t give it a retarded name.  I had the unfortunate circumstance of putting together the stats page on a site dealing with race horses recently.  How these hillbillies come up with those names I do not know: Dash For Cash, Dashin For Penny, Second An Ten To Go…I could go on, but why should I?  There were many more utterly lame names that I had to deal with but I don’t even want to think about them now.  What ever happened to Bob or Susie or Peanut?  What’s so hard about having a real name?  What’s funny is that nearly all of them had something to do with money, because people who own these horses love them so much of course.  “I love my race horse!  I love training him and making him happy.”  “So why’d you name him IWantMoneyNow?”  “Well…the horse…likes money…”  Yeah sure.  You don’t care about the animal at all.  The only time you care about the horse is when the smelly beast runs a little faster than other non-loved animals.  I’m sure the horse just loves it, too.  If he’d been given a choice: run wild in the plains all his life free of any stress or be hauled from place to place in an open air trailer at 80 miles an hour to have a small, twiglike man ride him around, I’m sure the horse would have chosen the latter.  Getting continually whipped over and over again every day of your life is great fun I bet.  I should try it sometime.