Background: Meeting Zeffie..

Zigzag Dan: AKA Zephyr, Zeffie, Z : A 12 year old Off the Track Thoroughbred. This means to non-horse people that he is an ex-racehorse. Not Kentucky Derby material in the slightest. He started off relatively well, meaning he made it through training and into his first races but "retired" at the age of 3. Good parents, just couldn't make it on the racetrack. That's okay. I found him. Or rather - he found me...

This picture is shortly after I purchased him for the grand price of $2000. His gray color was what brought the price up a little. He was a mess when I got him. He bled from his lungs when he raced (which is probably why he sucked) so that had to be fixed. He was lame in his knee from repetitive stress on undeveloped bones, ligaments and tendons. He was head shy. He was scared to death he was going to be hit. And he was underweight. He "needed groceries" was a common saying. He had to detox off all the drugs he was on, legal and most likely some illegal, all at once, cold turkey. But I am getting ahead of myself..

In 2003 I had just gotten home from Guam. I had been through Basic Training, AIT, and my first duty station.
I had also been through 2 shoulder surgeries for a right shoulder that just did not want to heal. I had so much bone deep pain when I came back that I was quickly seen at the military clinic and then referred to a specialist. I started PT back up and was under the care of an civilian ortho surgeon. Civilian PT and military PT are two entirely different things. Both want the same thing and are after the same goals, they just go about how they get it a lot differently. My physical therapist was pulling her hair out by the time I finally decided to get a second opinion about why my shoulder was not recovering. I was working full time, but still considered light duty, was "on profile" meaning I had certain restrictions and I was unable to complete the all important Army Physical Fitness Test because I was in so much pain. I heard whispers of "malingerer" from other Soldiers and I really can't blame them. I didn't know what was wrong but I kept pushing through. My physical therapist called the ortho doc in Guam at one point and the gist of the conversation was "its your problem now". I was at such a low point, depressed, confused and wracked with pain. I needed an outlet. I decided to go back to horses.

My sister and I learned to ride probably shortly after we learned to walk. Well maybe not that young but we started at a young age. Our first two horses were rescued from knee-deep filth for I think $50 apiece. Our parents had no clue at first about horses. We relied heavily on our horsey neighbor for advice and knowledge. Despite my parents lack of knowledge, my father and grandfather built our two horse barn and the first year we had the horses we had a hurricane and the barn wasn't completed yet so we walked them down to the end of the street where there were a couple of stalls available. Our first two horses were not right for us and once they were healthy again we ended up selling them. But for years my sister and I rode, either the neighbor's horses or my sister leased a few of them. I got out of horses for a time, got involved in ice hockey but I still mucked stalls to be able to ride and I knew I would want one of my own again some day.

I had connections at the local racetrack. I was also cruising through canter.org looking at trainer listings and at pictures. I went to look at a few I had called about. The first was a chestnut mare that pinned her ears and charged at me the second I walked in to her stall. The groom said she had been touchy lately. She also had Storm Cat in her breeding and those can be incredibly talented but also difficult. A gray caught my eye but I didn't know he was for sale so I walked on to another barn. I didn't see anything that screamed "buy me" which is a HUGE feat for me, so I turned around and walked back into the first barn. I caught the gray's eye again and he pricked his ears up. I went over to his stall while I waited for the groom to come back. He was a little head shy but he seemed to love a spot right above his two swirls in between his eyes. He started snoozing. The groom came back and he asked me what I thought about the mare. I turned my back to the gray and while I was talking, he took a big long drink and then dribbled ice cold water down my back. I spun around and he was like "hey". I turned around trying to think about what I was saying and he picked up the hood of my jacket and flipped it over my head. The groom said "he seems to like you". So I got his story. That he was a prospect from Florida but he wasn't doing very well and he wasn't very good in the starting gate. I learned later this meant he couldn't get a gate card. No gate card, no racing. That he most likely would be going to auction the next week or so. I could hardly believe this horse was for sale. I went into his stall, picked up his feet, rubbed on him, took him out, walked him up and down the aisle and told the groom to get the trainer/owner on the phone. Z was mine. Not much of a thorough check and that would come around in time to get me but we had such a connection. He was practically screaming at me to turn around and pay attention to him. I was a little worried about his age at first, he was much younger than what I was looking for but I decided to throw all caution to the wind and I am glad I did.