Handsome One

Most people never see elderly horses. 

You see us on racecourses, ridden and whipped across finish lines before our bones have stopped growing. You see us collapsing on tracks, our injuries explained away or hidden behind screens. You might even see us at sales yards, or as names on betting slips. 

But you never see what comes after because for most of us, there is no “after”. Our lives so often end young, either on track or shortly after, or in slaughter pipelines long before age has a chance to touch us. 

But I was one of the lucky few. 

After racing in the US, I was surrendered to a sanctuary instead of ending up who knows where. Here, for the first time in my life, I was allowed something most animals are denied: the chance to grow old. 

This is so rare and so special, that I was featured in a photography series called Allowed to Grow Old. Isa Leshko photographed my greying face, my body softer and slower than it was once.  

I was no longer valuable to the racing industry, but people everywhere said I looked beautiful in my photo. They said it was refreshing to see an elderly horse with time etched across his body instead of violence. 

Now that I’m 33, I know old age is a privilege most horses are denied. 

Growing old should not be remarkable. But in the racing world, it is. 

My name is Handsome One and I am someone.