Barbaro's spirit touched us all

By Paul Daugherty
The Cincinnati Enquirer

He went from one-in-a-million racehorse to million-to-one patient in the time it takes to strike a match or snap a finger.

Barbaro was the best racehorse alive and then his right hind leg shattered and his right ankle dislocated a few strides into the Preakness last May 20. After that, he merely became a symbol for all that's good about horses and people.

They put him down Monday. Eight months into a fight almost no one believed they would even attempt, let alone win, his owners decided he'd had enough.

That wasn't the 4-year-old bay colt's call. If it were up to the horse, he'd still be fighting: The laminitis in his left leg, the abscess in his right. The pins stitching his bones, the fiberglass casts steadying his legs, the therapy, the operations. All of it.

One-in-a-million racehorses don't know when to quit. Not even when their odds of recovery are a million to one.

I can't tell you why we become attached to our animals, only that we do. Maybe it's because our animals bring out the best in us. Barbaro certainly did. It's funny how a horse dying can illuminate the living we do as people. But that's what happened.

We push beached whales back into the ocean, we rub detergent into the oil-soaked feathers of seabirds. We'll lie all night by the side of a dog whose arthritis won't allow it any more trips up the stairs. We'll spend eight months trying everything we know, to heal a horse many thought should have been humanely destroyed while still on the track at Pimlico.

These are the times that make us proud to be alive, and grateful to be human. We do these things, and realize how much goodness we possess.

The nobility in the attempt to save Barbaro uplifts us all.

It was a long shot from the start, Steve Cauthen said Monday.

The last Triple Crown winner resides in Walton, Ky. He owns horses. He was personally familiar with the laminitis that invaded Barbaro's left leg last July. Insidious, Cauthen called it.

Cauthen's Triple Crown horse, Affirmed, was put down at age 26, when laminitis showed up in his left foot. The horse was already recovering from a right ankle injury.

He didn't have a leg to stand on, literally, said Cauthen.

But 26 is different than 4. Twenty-six years is a lifetime for a horse; four is a springtime.

As recently as mid-December, the prognosis for Barbaro was guardedly optimistic, and that in itself was a miracle. Horses aren't like people. They can't rest a leg by lying down. Horses weigh too much. They lie down too long, they damage organs.

But by December, Barbaro's shattered right leg was healing nicely and the laminitis in his left leg had been controlled. Barbaro was leaving his intensive care unit for walks.

He had the will to live and the intelligence to let people help him, Cauthen said.

After Barbaro's leg snapped on the track, jockey Edgar Prado was able to keep the horse calm and ease him into an ambulance.

Most horses in that situation freak out and have to be put down immediately, Cauthen said.

Barbaro became America's sweetheart after that. Dr. Dean Richardson devoted his life and talent to the horse; the owners Roy and Gretchen Jackson spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on treatment.

It is easy (and cynical) to say the effort was made because, after winning the Kentucky Derby by the biggest margin in 60 years, Barbaro was worth millions at stud. Those who think that way have never loved an animal.

As Cauthen said, A horse that is that gallant, brave and intelligent, you want to do everything to save.

Dr. Richardson came heartbreakingly close to doing just that. Then Barbaro developed an abscess in the right rear hoof last week, requiring surgery. He ran into the same problem that did in Affirmed. No legs to stand on.

This horse was a hero, said David Switzer, executive director of the Kentucky Thoroughbred Association.

Yes, but no more than those who endeavored to help him. It's a good and just thing, trying to save the life of an animal. Even when it doesn't work, we are ennobled by the trying.

Barbaro was a fighter, Steve Cauthen said. As long as he fought, everyone involved was going to fight, too.

They lost this fight. But in fighting, they gained so much more.