Ruffian

    (Disclaimer: Animal lovers. This blog recounts a rather gruesome bit of history)

 

    Ruffian.

    What a great horse! What a proud horse! What a superbly winning horse!

     She was the master of the race track. As a three year old filly she had won an absolutely impressive ten races. So like a prize fighter with a 10-0 record. Ruffian put the “males of the circular avenue” to shame. What an outstanding measure of a horse.

     It was inevitable that someone would come up with a head to head challenge. It began as a threesome, but due to some bargaining and legal payoffs, only two horses started the race.

     Ruffian seemed to be equally matched. The name of the other horse escapes me now, but he was “a gifted loser” before the race began. Chances are his real name wasn’t Gifted Loser, however.

    The race was run on the grounds of the famous Belmont Stakes. The two horses were eagerly awaiting the start of the mile and a quarter. The darkening sky seemed to serve as an omen of things to come. Later, there were those in the crowd that spoke of having felt uneasy that day. A few vocal commentators had complained that the distance was too long; that it was just too hard on a horse to run full out over such a difficult distance.

     But the horses seemed “game,” and they were ready to run. The gates popped open, and they were off. Ruffian was immediately in the lead, her jockey coaching her, as she maintained the lead. What happened next was, and is, (for there are videos of the race) hard to watch. The horses had passed the quarter mile marker and were sorely intent on their task at hand. They must have sensed the singularity of their run, since there were only two of them, and the pace was so fantastic.

     In a subsequent statement, Ruffian’s jockey said that the sound was loud and unexpected. It reminded him of the crack of a rifle, or of a piece of celery being broken in two. Ruffian had the lead, and wasn’t relenting… when it all began to fall apart. The jockey felt the horse stumble, and realized the unthinkable. Ruffian had broken one of his rear ankles. It happens in horse racing, and it is always a miserable, but compelling sight to behold.

     This was no common horse. Ruffian was a Queen, with a capital Q! The pain must have been unbearable, but the magnificent horse continued to run! Her gait was confused, and she was no longer running a straight course, and of course, she slowed considerably. But she was still running; on a broken ankle! Her courage and ambition worked against her, as her renewed effort cost her dearly. The ankle bent over on itself and Ruffian found herself virtually running on three hoofs and a nub. It all happened so quickly, and Ruffian maintained the lead ‘til that momentous event.

     Her jockey reigned the horse in; something, for all her pain which confused her. Why, the race wasn’t over. It was too early! But it was over. The rider jumped to the ground and attempted to calm the injured steed. At first Ruffian would have none of it. She saw the challenger gain the lead and go racing past her. Several men ran to her assistance, and what they saw horrified them. The lower leg was red with blood. Ruffian’s one ankle had literally exploded into hundreds of tiny pieces, only the external hide containing it.

     Broken legs and horses don’t mix. More times, than not they have to be “put down.” More times, than not they are put down immediately, right there on the track. But Ruffian was no common horse, and her owner would have none it. A temporary split was put on the lower leg, and she was transported for further treatment.

     Hope against hope they put an air split on her leg, but the wonderful horse fought against it. Though she lay on her side, her instinct kicked in. She began to flail, and do a stationery gallop. Ruffian damaged herself further, and sadly… had to be put to sleep.

     She was a great horse, and had maintained the lead in that final race ‘til her legs failed beneath her. She is buried in the infield of the Belmont Stakes.

     There is a more important race to be run and won. We are vitally engaged in that race. We will never run a more important race. God has called us to excellence, and nothing less will do.

     We may not win every battle, but if we run with patience we will win the war.

“Seeing how we are surrounded by such a great crowd of witnesses, let us strip off everything that hinders us, and the sin that so easily besets us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us.” (Hebrews 12:1, KJV)

 By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "Musings"