His form looks impressive on paper, but the fair meet wins generate little money. Rio Hondo steps across the paddock and his desire to run becomes a living thing. Waves of heartache tremble through me. I am no longer part of his life but the Dream quickens. The Odds-board now flashes to read 98 to 1 for Rio Hondo, while liquid cornet notes slip exquisite and noble from the Race Master.
Trainers give the wiry young athletes a boost up and lead the mounts around the winner s circle.
Musical notes from a different melody call the first champion to the assigned pony-horse rider. The splendid procession begins as they are squired back to the starting gate. On the backside, the royal Rio Hondo disappears into obscurity. Memories of his fight for life murmur through my mind and down my back as the starting gate bell rips the gentle fog-filled night and ten magnificent Arabs leap into the mist. The reverberation of hard hooves rumbles against extruded earth.