Yesterday, we decided to let the kids watch the Kentucky Derby. I have a very fond memory of going to a horse race at Keeneland with my dad as a kid. (Today is the 7th anniversary of his death, BTW. It still ranks as #1 on the top 10 list of bad days.) He let me pick horses for him to bet on which I thought was great fun. I seemed to have an uncanny knack for picking good ones…usually I just picked the name I liked best because odds meant nothing to me. For what it’s worth, my pick yesterday was Denis of Cork. I liked the name and the silk was my favorite. (I’ve graduated now…I take into account the color and design of the silk as well as the name!) He came in 3rd.
By now you probably know how the Derby ended. Eight Belles, the lone filly in the group, collapsed after finishing second. And was euthanized right there on the track because she broke both front legs, an injury that a horse cannot recover from. As we watched, the on-track vet told us what happened and I get the inevitable question…”Mommy, what does you-fun-eyes mean?” Oh, crap.
It’s not that we haven’t discussed death in our house. He knows that my father is dead, that my mom’s dogs have died, etc. But the concept of euthanasia is not something I ever wanted to address with a 5 year old. I did the best I could and he was satisfied with my explanation but I feel like I could have done a better job. Somehow horse racing has lost it’s excitement for me in the wake of this tragedy.
