As I grew up, taking riding lessons and showing at local shows, I became painfully aware of the cliques that exist in the horse universe.

I was never in the "snobby rich girls" clique, with their expensive fancy horses trailered to the shows in expensive fancy trailers, with their shiny new tack and spotless, expensive outfits. They always seemed to perch on their horses instead of riding; and literally seemed to go around with their nose in the air - literally. More often than not, they won all the blue ribbons, and their little friends came in second, and I came in somewhere around third or fourth. Except for a few times when I beat the crap out of some of them - which was satisfying.

 No, I had to work my butt off for what I got. My parents did give me a lot - they bought most of the horses I ever had, and taught lessons on. I started teaching at 19 and earning money to prop up my horse obsession. But my parents went out and bought a older Suburban and livestock trailer to haul me and my sisters and students around to shows in the area.

 Because I was working my butt off and watching every single penny, I didn't get the most popular, expensive show outfits. I got decent outfits - perfectly fine outfits - that I could afford. And so did my sisters. And the horses were in perfectly good used tack.

And we didn't care. We were proud of the fact that we had to work twice as hard for what we got - and I believe it made us into better horsewomen because we focused on our skills and not our appearance. What we did win, we won on our own merit and because of our own hard work and diligence.

 But that doesn't mean I didn't feel the sting of annoyed defeat when, predictably, the girl with the tallest, flashiest, "plastic" looking horses left the ring carrying blue ribbons in their perfect catalog outfits. They didn't mingle with my family, and we certainly didn't feel welcome mingling with their barn troupe.


I suppose in my optimistic outlook on life I assumed that as I grew into my adulthood this kind of thing would  fade away into the past.

But it doesn't.

It really became evident to me tonight as I sat through a meeting of a horse association I joined. Most of the people in the association are clients of my farrier, who breeds and shows champion Paso Fino horses. Most of them own and ride Paso Finos.

 I am the only one I know of with a OTTB in the group. And I have five, currently in my barn.

 My farrier spoke to me. His assistant said hi. Few of the other people in the room greeted us. But it stopped there. As I sat there with my husband, eating our Mexican food, there was talking and joking and laughing and general frivolity all over our heads. It was as if we were invisible. It wasn't the first time I had gone to a meeting either. We've been attending meetings and events with the group for about 6 or 8 months.

Then they started discussing Re Run and getting together with Re Run to do a clinic with some OTTBs and talk about them and re training them and seeing if anyone would be interested in buying OTTBs. To show the public that they "don't just run around in a circle in one direction" like NASCAR, they laughed.

I was floored. I just stared at my husband.

I guess everyone in the group forgot that I had competed one of my OTTBs in a association event held this past fall. My farrier knows I have OTTBS. He knows I have personally gone to Philadelphia and brought back 8 horses and rehabbed them with my own money. And re-trained them all by myself with no outside help.

 And they need to ask an outsider from Re Run to come and tell them that OTTBs don't  "run around in a circle in one direction like NASCAR"?

 If they had asked me, I would have told them.

 If they had expressed interest, I would have shown them.

 If I thought they had cared, I would have let them ride one themselves.

 But no one in the little clique remembers, or if they do, they must figure I really don't qualify, because I'm not Re Run.

 No, I'm not. I do it with my own money. I've gone without, so that the horses have what they need. But maybe that doesn't qualify me to tell them about OTTBs.

 I had one die in my arms..... but I guess that doesn't make me "legit", either.

 I kind of gave up on horse clubs and associations tonight. I kind of gave up a little on horse people around here all together.

 I think I'll just keep it down to my husband, sister, and me; working hard to make a better life for a hand full of OTTBs that we plucked off the track.
 They can bring in their Re Run people to talk to them about it,  and maybe they'll gain a little appreciation for ex-racers.

Maybe.