KING CHANTICLEER

He struted, he floated, he flashed; he was such a three year old SHOW OFF. The breeder gave him two names before she approved of Chanticleer. A bright, shiny penny-red chestnut with white socks and golden mane and tail. He was...noticeable.
I had not gone to the sale to buy a Saddlebred stallion. I had gone to learn how to bid and what to look for in a young stallion. I had watched my teacher question the attending Vet and the Farrier, whom she knew and approved of in general.
My next door neighbor had decided to have mercy on me and take me by the hand and walk me through the never-never land of: purchasing horses.
Bee was very practical; she had been in the business of keeping and breeding Arabian mares; she was kind and an excellent teacher.
She zonked out over this 'chicken' colt! He was exactly what I should be looking for! I should buy him today, if possible! Not above four-thousand because there wasn't more than that in his breeding fees, registration and application futurity fees. The Vet said he was sound; the Farrier said he had maybe been lightly quicked and might be a bit off on one foot...but Bee excused that, foals frequently had small problems and this horse had such a pedigree that he was worth that much of an investment.
I countered with: where would he go until my barn was built (remembering my husband's last statement about being careful about the money going into an asset, we were supposed to lose money, but just the right amount!)--Bee would take him into her barn if I would breed one of her mares next year. OK.
Would she teach me about breeding? She would send me to the right person , a friend of hers. OK
She would also introduce me to the girl who had him for sale, this person knew the Saddlebred people...OK.
So, I decided that I would buy this colt and give him to Bee, if she wanted him; in exchange for her help and guidance since I had met her...ah, so innocent, I really thought that was a gift she would love.

The bidding started slowly, it crept up to two hundred dollars; Bee and I consulted in whispers...she couldn't figure out what was going on ; I , of course, had no clue. She assured me that this little horse was a steal at the price we had mentioned.
So, I bid four hundred dollars thinking to move things along; and--I had bought a Stallion!
I told her of my idea to gift him to her; she didn't discount a partnership. I offered to let the Seller keep her colt, which she had invested over two thousand dollars into, she said absolutely not--a sale was a sale--she begged me to show him in the Refional Futurity; I agreed that would be done.
I paid for him; then went to actually see him.
He was jumping and leaping about in his stall; he rushed to the door when he saw us and I realized how big he was...big and...active.
Bee said she would have to take the top off the trailer and we would be down tomorrow to pick him up.
All arranged. We went home. Bee was very happy, I tried to be.

I have an eternal picture in my mind of loading Chanti after putting on goggles. equipment which Bee had brought and insisted upon using because of the open trailer, nothing should be permitted to strike his eyes. He sort of leaped into the trailer, found the open spot to stick his head up ; we leaped into the truck and hit the road. Every time I looked back at him, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the whole adventure, turning his head--flashing the goggles, grabbing a bite of hay and sticking his head straight up into the wind. Every once in awhile he would scream a whinny.
What had I done? What HAD I done? WHAT had I done?
This was my husband's idea: that I should enter the horse breeding business, pay for my needed training, build the necessary facilities, teach my daughters to ride and help with the chores and turn the whole of it into a tax-loss business--HE was responsible for this whole idea!
Every time I looked at that Rooster of a Horse, thoughts careened into my head: he didn't say I could have fun, he has no idea I love this adventure, how can I loose money using THIS horse?
And Bee kept shaking her head and saying things like: you STOLE him! If things keep going like this, everything you touch will turn to GOLD! What a great start-up stud!
I knew I was in trouble.