rayaso | Idol Week 26, Open Topic: “If It Weren't For My Horse, I Wouldn't Have Spent That Year In College”

I am grateful to karmasoup for her wonderful suggestion for a topic.

A HORSE IS STILL A HORSE, OF COURSE

“Parents are everything,” said Hank Albers, as he stared into Belle’s big brown eyes. “Mine were a mess, but yours were the best.” His parents had bankrupted Albers Racing, one of the premier horse racing stables and home of three Triple Crown winners, including Belle. The horses had brought in enormous fees which his parents, both gamblers, had thrown away.

Now they were in jail, guilty of the oldest horse racing scam – repeatedly selling the same shares of their legendary horses. They had been caught, of course, and later everything was sold in bankruptcy. This left his parents’ bookies unpaid, but that was their problem; their debts would be collected in the prison yard.

Hank watched as Belle was led away, the last of the racehorses. He gave the stable’s keys to the bankruptcy receiver and prepared to leave. His parents had lost everything, even the money Hank had earned for college. He was allowed to keep his clothes, his aging pickup and horse trailer, and Eddie, his horse.

Eddie had never been intended to be a racehorse – his only value was in his novelty. He was the last descendent of the legendary ‘60s television star Mister Ed, the talking horse.

“Too bad you can’t talk,” thought Hank as he loaded Eddie into the trailer.

He needed a temporary place to stay, so he drove to the local Ranchotel (“It’s a Ranch and a Hotel!”) which catered to horses and their owners. He checked them in and then stretched out on the bed, trying to come up with something better.

“I’m eighteen, broke, with a horse,” he thought. “I can’t sell him, but I might have to.”

The next morning, he still had no ideas so he went to check on Eddie in his stall.

“How’d you like to join the circus?” Hank said. “It’d be easy to fake your talking. ‘The World’s Only Talking Horse,’ -- that’d sell tickets.”

“Not on your life,” said Eddie.

When Hank came to, Eddie was poking him with his muzzle.

“Not what I expected,” said Eddie. “You some kind of wimp?”

“You can talk?” said Hank, getting to his feet.

“I can sing, too,” said Eddie, before launching into a soulful “Empty Feedbag Blues.”

“When I get up for breakfast
There's no oats in the bin;
Cause everything is going out,
And nothin's comin' in!”

“Why talk now?” Hank interrupted.

“I didn’t need to,” said Eddie, with a toss of his mane. “I was happy until your parents screwed up.”

“Maybe you could star in a new ‘Mister Ed,’” said Hank. “If they can reboot ‘Charlie’s Angels,’ why not a talking horse?”

“Who’d watch?” said Eddie. “I’ve been thinking and I’ve got a better idea for some money. We’ll start slowly with Part 1.”

A roadhouse out along Route 42 had an open mic on Thursday Nights. Blind Pig Burgers 'N Blues was famous for its cheap drinks, greasy food, and live blues. Happy Hour lasted all night on Thursdays, so by the time the mic opened up, everyone was too drunk to care if the act was good or bad. But when Eddie took the stage, they all sat up as best they could.

Eddie Sings the Blues

Hank could play enough piano to get by and when Eddie finished, the tip jar was full.

After a couple of weeks, they had enough money for Part 2 of Eddie’s plan. The goal was to earn enough to pay for Hank’s college, with money left over to cover Eddie’s stable fees and maybe a pretty little filly for company.

“What’s Part 2?” asked Hank one morning while he combed Eddie’s mane back at the Ranchotel.

“We need big money,” said Eddie as he nuzzled Hank. “It’s time to play the ponies.”

“After my parents’ disaster?” said Hank, frowning. “No chance.”

“Then what’s your idea?” asked Eddie, kicking straw onto Hank’s shoes. “More tips from singing?”

Hank was silent.

“Your parents had no idea how to bet on horses,” said Eddie. “They didn’t know which races were fixed, which horses were running with injuries, which jockeys were drunk. Get me near a racetrack, and I’ll find out.

“Look, horses talk. That’s what all that whinnying’s about – you just have to know the language. Take me to a racetrack and I’ll tell you the winners. You place the bets and when we’ve won enough, we leave. Your parents could never quit, but that’s not us.”

Hank thought about it. They didn’t have much to lose but he hated the idea of gambling. College was expensive and so was owning a horse. He didn’t see this going too far, so maybe it would work.

“Why not place my future in the hooves of a talking horse?” he thought.

Foothill Downs was the nearest big racetrack. Security was tight, but after Hank unloaded Eddie early in the morning, he looked like just another exercise boy as they wandered around.

First Eddie wanted to see the horses warming up for the day’s races. If he saw anything, he wasn’t saying. Next stop was the stables. Eddie just wandered around, listening to the horses.

“I got this race,” whinnied Laser Roller, trying to intimidate the other horses.

“Not with your jockey,” whinnied Lucky Star. “He smells like bad whiskey.”

Lightning King had new horseshoes and the farrier had done a bad job. Rupert’s Dream had a cold.

Eddie kept his eye on a black horse who was off by himself, not saying anything.

“That’s the one,” said Eddie. “Put everything on Satan’s Promise in the 3rd.”

They kept wandering around while Eddie made his picks for two other races, including a trifecta in the last race, as well as picking a few losers so that Hank wouldn’t stand out.

At the end of the day, Hank had about $50,000, enough for another day at a different track. In the next month, Hank and Eddie worked all the major tracks in the state, losing some but winning more. After the Million Dollar Derby at the Meadows, they had enough for their dreams.

One more bet with all their winnings would also pay off Hank’s parents’ bookies.

“I can guarantee it,” said Eddie.

“Not our problem,” said Hank, who had yet to forgive his parents. “We said we’d stop, so we’re stopping.”

Hank enrolled in State A & M, which had an equine major, and he bought a little ranch not too far away with lots of room for Eddie to roam free, plus a filly for company. Eddie took one look at her and sang “Pretty Little Filly.”

Eddie never spoke again, but Hank knew why: there was no need to -- happy horses don’t talk to people.

* * * * *

For the real story on Mister Ed, see “The Quiet Desperation of Mr. Ed” from Season 9: https://rayaso.livejournal.com/1899.html

The Original Mister Ed sings "The Empty Feedbag Blues."

The Empty Feedbag Blues
When I get up for breakfast
There's no oats in the bin;
Cause everything is going out,
And nothin's comin' in!
Believe me when I tell you
I have heard the news:
I got those empty feed bag--
Empty feed bag blues!!
My pretty filly told me
To stay away tonight;
'Cause all that I bring with me
Is a healthy appetite!
Why am I so unlucky?
Me with four horse shoes?
I got those empty feed bag--
Empty feed bag blues.
-- “Mister Ed.” (1961)

Pretty Little Filly
Got a date a little later
when the moon is on the trail
with the cutest triple gaiter
my pretty little filly with the pony tail
Got a bag of oats to call with
Hay I'll bring her by the bale
want to share a double stall with
the pretty little filly with the pony tail
Gee, if she would just agree
she'd be mine today
but no matter when I ask
the answer's always "neigh neigh neigh neigh"
If she'd name that day of wedlock
I would be there without fail
Got the ring made for her fetlock
the pretty little filly with the pony tail!
-- “Mister Ed.” (1961)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

viagra.livejournal.com

Why not place your future in the hooves of a talking horse, indeed? I really enjoyed this; I love silly stuff. And your asides ("It's a Ranch and a Hotel!") are just perfect. Awesome job! :-)

From:

Navigation

Idol Week 26, Open Topic: “If It Weren't For My Horse, I Wouldn't Have Spent That Year In College”

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags