Barbaro

I'm not a huge fan of horse races, but the TV happened to be on the channel that was showing the Kentucky Derby one day in early May, so I watched. It doesn't take much to suck me into a sporting event.

Angela's Mom was in town that weekend and we were sitting in the living room talking while the race was on, so we weren't glued or anything. But as the horses neared the finish line we all stopped talking and listened to the announcers bring the horses around the final curve. It was exciting! Some people can work up tears in thirty seconds during a Hallmark commercial. I get instant tears during sporting events. Game-winning touchdowns, walk-off home runs, a buzzer-beating shot in Game 7 of a playoff series from a ten-point underdog...show me any of that and I'm a blubbering pile of goo. Anyway, the Kentucky Derby announcers were entralled with this 3-year old horse named Barbaro. They showed Barbaro's owner in the stands with his wife and daughter as Barbaro came down the final stretch, and I immediately became a fan and wanted Barbaro to win. He did. The bonnet-wearing crowd went ape crazy. And I wiped a tear away and quickly went to the refrigerator to get a beer so no one would know I was crying over a horse race.

I wasn't able to watch the Preakness, but the Barbaro spell had been sufficiently cast, so when I heard his name the morning after the Preakness on ESPN in the same breath with "tragic" and "life-threatening injury," my heart sank. As soon as Angela got up I hit rewind on Tivo so she could see the highlights of the broken leg, and all of the chaos that ensued. Poor Barbaro.

So like millions of others, I've been seeking out daily Barbaro updates since that day. God answers prayers for horses, right? I think so. I've been lifting up a few lately. Once I heard the doctor say, "Barbaro needs a miracle," I started praying. Alrighty then, let's get God to serve one up! It's odd that it took the word "miracle" to flip on the light in my head and get me to pray, but at least I'm on it now.

Barbaro is far too alert, frisky, and alive to be ailing. It just shouldn't be. It seems to me that this pesky laminitis infection should be an easy thing for God to cure, since God can obvoiusly handle things like leprosy, blindness, and cancer. But then what do I know. The vets obvoiusly believe differently because they've been steadily issuing doom and gloom. But I say keep changing his casts, let the laminitis-destroyed hoof have six months to grow back, and watch Barbaro heal. I'm choosing to believe God for a big Barbaro miracle.

Sports and animals...two of my favorite things. I'm hopelessly devoted. Hang in there Barbaro.