Best mate and pheasant RIP

I really hope the pheasant that shattered my windscreen today enroute to watch Horse Racing at Exeter died quickly, the thing nearly made me late for races, thank goodness it was only 4 miles from my house to the track. It was even more ironic that the bird died less than half a mile from my house.

I made the decision to crack on the racecourse to witness the return of Best Mate in the Haldon Gold Cup. The rest is history one minute he is being pulled up, the next minute he has veered in front the last fence and collasped. We all stood and saw the screens be erected. Here was a national treasure half a mile away underneath the screens. The jockey and Hen Knight walking away, his jolly owner walking away in tears and all of us stuck to our binoculars as the horse ambulance or hearse pulled up neck to the screens. The ambulance pulled away and you could not see a horse walk in. The king was dead. The presentation took place then Vickki Robinson the normally storic friend of mine announced to the crowd that the king had died she was in tears, as were people around me and yes I wiped a tear away from my eyes.

For many it was their first site of a horse that have given millions so much fun through his horse racing and charity work. I cannot explain the air at Haldon, for just a moment life did not seem real, it felt surreal, racing was unimportant. He had died in front of his worshippers rather than an empty paddock. Tonight he will be buried at the last fence, may he rest in peace, unlike the that BLOODY pheasant!