Poncelet pauses again, and picks up one of the ubiquitous linen towels used for rubbing horses down and hangs it on a rail. At 56, with a bit of black holding out against the gray under his baseball cap, he is a respected groom, given autonomy by his trainer to oversee the horses. He's authorized to tell a vet what dosage of the drug Lasix a horse is to receive, because his trainer knows he'll get it right. He's a craftsman too. I make enough to survive, now, working here.
Pay is about the same though.
He is at work by 5 A.M., getting his horses brushed and bandaged, making sure the dirt and mud are under control. Especially the legs and hooves. You have to keep the dirt off the horse's hooves. Every groom has a trick of the trade, a secret recipe, a sorcery peculiar to him for making the horse go faster. The workers' rec room is a couple of pinball machines in the foyer of the track kitchen.