Sydney Weaver’s Pinky returns to racing

The first lesson of horsemanship my dad instilled in me is the one I value most, even almost a decade later. His lesson was, “always listen to your horse. They will tell you everything you need to know”. I like to think when it comes to Pinky, I have always followed this and continue to do so.

After three foals and almost six years away from the racetrack, by following my dad’s words of wisdom and listening to Pinky (Sydney Seelster), I decided her broodmare career had come to an end.

Now came the question, what is next for Pinky? My dad, who had also been Pinky’s trainer, decided to blow the proverbial dust off of her harness and jogger and  bring Pinky out of the field she had spent a great deal of time in as a broodmare and into the barn. Doing so Pinky had something to do and I could jog her when I came home from university at different times throughout the year, allowing us to keep our bond strong. 

Pinky was happy when my dad put her harness on. Her reaction gave us the answer to our question; Pinky wanted to race again. With that, a plan for a comeback is in motion.

When my mom called me and told me the news that my dad was confident Pinky was ready to make a comeback, I admit I was stunned at first, and the idea quickly filled me with excitement. My beloved Pinky was making a return! Our story continued, and Pinky’s racing career was getting a sequel.

As my dad continued to jog Pinky, it became more evident that this is what Pinky wanted; it was clear she was ready to return to the world of racing.

My mom and dad kept me up-to-date with Pinky’s progress via text messages and phone calls. The times I received a text from my mom that contained a photo of Pinky always made my day.

It was not until the day Pinky was ready to qualify that I realized things would be different for me on Race Day. 

Attending university five hours away from home meant being in the paddock with Pinky on Race Day was no longer a guarantee. I can watch her race online, or the replay if I had an evening class when her race was going on; I had done this with Jo, but the thought of doing the same with Pinky felt weird. I had never missed one of Pinky’s races when I raced her from 2013-2015. 

The time we spent together in the paddock before and after her race, would be what I would miss most. Pinky’s return would not be the first time I would have to watch a horse I owned race from afar and in my dorm room. In the early part of 2019, I watched a few races of Pinky’s first foal, And Now Theres You, affectionately called “Jo” race from my university dorm.

For some reason, it felt different. Perhaps it was because “Jo” was a two-year-old, and I had mentally prepared that not being able to go to every single race Jo was in was a reality. I had never considered the idea of having to do the same for Pinky. 

I would not let my feelings hold Pinky back from doing what she loved. Pinky, my best friend, always has been and not allowing to her race because I was at university and cannot be there with her made me feel like I was selfish. I thought about my dad’s advice. I had listened to my horse; Pinky wanted to race. I would not let the distance between us be the reason she could not do what she loved and wanted to do.

My life had changed a lot since Pinky had last raced. Among many things, I moved away to the University, met a lot of new people and also expanded my social media presence and developed new interests. My friends at university and many of my new connections on social media did not come from a harness racing background. I was excited to share my passion for the sport of harness racing and the bond I share with Pinky with them. 

Pinky qualified at Woodbine-Mohawk Park on January 23ʳᵈ. Pinky was back! I was excited about this next chapter. Although Race Day would be different, I was determined to preserve the palpable excitement, nerves and adrenaline rush of Race Day. 

On the day of Pinky’s first race, being far away was tougher on me mentally and emotionally. I felt guilty for not being there. Not only did I miss keeping Pinky company, but I also missed the action that happens on Race Day. I started to think of specific things I would miss: pulling into the barn to pack the trailer and load Pinky before my mom, and I head off to the races in our van. I loved  listening to the sound of the horses’ nicker as I walk into the paddock, the clicking and clanging of sulkies and jog carts as some horses went to warm up before their race while others returned from theirs, the laughter and cheers of other trainers and grooms filled the air with the occasional announcement from the Paddock Office occasionally drowning out the laughter and cheers.

Thinking of the smells had the same effect. I never fully appreciated the aromas of a race paddock until I had to watch Pinky’s debut return to the track from afar. There is something in the way manure, sweat from both horses and their drivers and the occasional hint of soap filled the air that brought me comfort and enjoyment that I never gave much thought to in the past. As I sat in my sterile- feeling dorm room working on an essay until it was time to watch Pinky, these are the things I pondered. 

My mom texted me photos of Pinky in the paddock throughout the night. It seems strange, but I was able to envision the smells and sounds that went with what the images depicted with ease. 

I logged onto the live stream of Pinky’s upcoming race. I had a couple of races to spare, but I did not want to miss her big debut. I continued working on an assignment that was due in a few days, to pass the time until it was time for Pinky’s race. I was nervous about Pinky’s race that I could not concentrate on the work in front of me, and I quickly pieced together. I was not going to accomplish much with my nerves as they were, and it would be wise to wait until after Pinky had raced. 

I did not have to wait long. 

I listened to the post parade waiting to see a glimpse of Pinky. A couple of horses were featured, then it was Pinky’s turn. Pinky’s return became both real and surreal at the moment she was introduced on camera. Pinky looked as good as she ever did on the track in her pink tack. 

As the camera showed the horses behind the gate, my nerves reached their peak, as the wings of the gate let the horses go, “it was showtime,” I thought to myself. I cheered, quietly at first because I did not want to disrupt or scare my roommate with how loud I could scream for Pinky. But as the field grew closer to the wire, I could not help but to get excited and louder, managing to scare my roommate accidentally.

Pinky did not win that start, but she gave her best effort, and it was an impressive first race back, considering the amount of time she had been away from the racetrack. I was very proud of her.

Now instead of returning to the paddock to see Pinky and get his thoughts on how Pinky did and what driver Scott Wray had to say of how Pinky was during the race, I had to wait until my parents had a convenient time to call me with all the post-race details.

I had just finished grabbing a snack when my cell phone rang. It was my parents calling to inform me on how the race went and how the rest of the night. My dad also detailed what his plan was for Pinky going forward. I always like getting phone calls from home, but that call was extra special. I hung up the phone feeling torn, on the one hand, I was grateful that technology allowed me to watch Pinky’s race and enabled my parents to call me, but on the other hand, it made me sad because it was then I realized just how much I missed Pinky. 

I hoped that one day soon, Pinky would be racing one night during one of my visits home. 

When I came home for Christmas Break or the mid-semester breaks in November and February, seeing Pinky is what I look forward to most. 

Every time I walk into the barn after being away for a while, I feel refreshed, and I feel a wave of new life wash over my soul. Perhaps it is the change of scenery or the change of pace that life has in the barn. While at university, between attending lectures, doing research and working to meet deadlines to submit assignments on time, I am rarely present in the moment. That changes when I am at the barn. At the barn, whatever I have to think about when it comes to completing assignments fades to the back of my mind. Instead, I focus on the present, enjoy the atmosphere that surrounds me, and I give my full attention to Pinky.  

Each time I come home and spend hours with Pinky in the barn, it gets harder to say goodbye on the last visit before I return to Ottawa. She is my favourite hello and hardest goodbye. 

That is why deciding to remain in Ottawa over the summer to take a summer course and explore the national capital, giving up spending my summer at home with Pinky, was an extremely difficult one and one I did not make lightly. With Pinky back racing, it made me second guess and feel regretful for that decision. I was giving up spending Race Day with her for another four months.

 This sport has taught me that sometimes you are presented with a decision that may not be the preferred choice, but it is a choice that one has to accept and make the best of the circumstance. I prepared to continue supporting my best friend from a distance. 

But fate had other plans. 

Towards the end of March, as the COVID-19 pandemic was on the rise in Canada and around the world, my university monitored the situation closely. They decided to cancel all in-class learning for the summer and move class online. They recommended that all students that could go home do so at the soonest possible date. I was devastated. I was looking forward to my summer adventures. But, over the years another life lesson this sport has taught me is, there are highs, and there are lows, and to be successful you have to accept you will experience a fair share of both, but you must also be willing and able to find a positive in both.

So as I packed my already minimalist life into boxes on the short few days notice that I had, I focused on finding the positive which was coming home to Pinky. 

The COVID-19 pandemic had also brought racing to a sudden halt. I was excited to be able to spend time with Pinky at the barn, and I hoped racing would return before I returned to school as classes were going to be online until the new year. 

When I first came home, I was technically still in school for three more weeks. So, I waited to take a trip to the barn until classes were officially over; because I knew if I went to see Pinky once for a “quick visit” I would want to go frequently and would lose interest and motivation for finishing my remaining assignments. Although having Pinky closer and not seeing her was tough, being able to get updates from dad the moment he came home from the barn was delightful, rather than having to wait until our schedules coordinated, and he was able to call.  

The day after I handed in my last assignment, I spent most of the day with Pinky. To see her again felt incredible! My heart filled with joy. I spoiled her with carrots that day.  

 I believe everything happens for a reason, and once again, this proved to be true. If it were not for the unexpected circumstances that were caused by COVID-19, I would not have had a reason to come home, and I would not have had the opportunity to spend my summer with Pinky.

Every time I visit Pinky, and she blows a puff of warm breath on my face, or pieces of carrot I am feeding her fall on my shoe,  of the advice my dad gave me all those years ago. I think to myself, Pinky, in her way, is telling me, “ your summer break is time for you and me to spend together.” I listened to my horse, and I am glad I did because she told me everything I needed to know.

And the story continues…

by Sydney Weaver, for Harnesslink