2nd Series Chronicles of a broke horse trainer "Charlie and Beaner"

nights. He proceeded to explain to me that if he couldn’t get a tack room near the horses then he was going to set up a cot right in front of our stall and that is where he would sleep. We couldn’t get a tack room with just one horse at the track, so he slept on a cot in front of the horse stall. From then on, I never questioned his sleeping arrangements.

The other thing you had to accept about Charlie was that where he went, Beaner went. His sleeping arrangements consisted of his army cot in a tack room with about a 13-inch TV at the end of the cot. When the horses were bedded down for the night, Charlie would break out a six pack of beer, lay back on the cot and watch TV while he depleted the six pack. He kept a little dish beside the cot in which he would pour a teaspoon or so of beer for Beaner. This would continue until they both ran of beer and fell asleep. Without fail, Charlie would be up no later than five o’clock the next morning feeding horses and preparing for the training schedule of the day. Beaner, after a belly full of beer the night before would remain on the cot with the TV left on for him and watch TV through presumably blurry eyes until he chose to venture out of the tack room. By the time training for the morning was done, Beaner was ready for some real food and him and Charlie would proceed with their daily routine. As I stated earlier, Charlie was as good at reading and diagnosing a problem with a horse as anyone I had ever worked with. His one fault was that he was not very forthcoming with his diagnosis. I was reputed to be pretty good at diagnosing problems in the front legs and shoulder of a horse but there were times that problems in the backend totally baffled me. On numerous occasions I would walk a horse up and down the shed row trying to find a lameness with Charlie sitting on a bale of hay casually observing. Out of pure frustration I would finally say “Charlie, do you see anything in this horse?” The answer was usually something to the order of “I was wondering when you were ever going to a sk. The first time you walked him down the shed row, it was obvious that is the right hock.” I guess you could say he was a “silent partner” or maybe he just wanted to make sure that he received proper recognition for his diagnosis.

After about eight years of a more on than off partnership Charlie’s wanderlust got the best of him and he left for Louisiana. He had worked there some years before and in fact, that is where he got his limp. He had been in a bad car wreck while working in Louisiana and had a rod placed in his right thigh bone. As it turned out the right leg was slightly shorter than the left leg