Milk Horse

Corre Como el Viento was born on a chilly morning in the month of March. His mother was a milk horse, as were her mother and her mother before that. Trudging along from house to house delivering milk to the children. Waiting for Elmer, the elderly snow hair man. A few days after his birth, she resumed her role between the throngs of the milk cart. Corre was hungry. She returned about noon. “Where did you go? Why did you leave before it became light?” He asked her after she filled his belly with her milk.

She stroked him with her nose and smiled. “I have a very honorable profession. I am a milk horse.”
“What is a milk horse?” He burped. How she could give away her milk and still have enough left for him?

“The master milks the cows. He bottles the milk and then he and I bring it to the children.”
“What do the children do with it? Do they drink it like I do?” Corre asked. He blinked, his eyelids becoming heavy. His mother lay down on the straw bed the master provided for her and her colt. Snuggling up by her side, he listened to the beating of her heart.

“Yes, they drink it. It helps them grew to be big. She said. “Now go to sleep, little one.” She lay her neck on his back to protect Corre from the cold. Closing his eyes, he dreamed. In his dream, he stood on a hill. Below him was a circle. People were walking around. In a few minutes, seven horses led by seven men came to the edge of the circle. Suddenly Corre was one horse being led onto the track. He turned his head and saw a rider on his back. A small man in a shining white suit and a small cap. He had a set of glasses positioned above his eyes. He leaned down and whispered in Corre’s ear. “You are the best horse here. Hold back and run with them. I’ll tell you when to fly.” He patted the horse on the neck. They and the riders were loaded into a long cage big enough for all seven horses. The horse beside him did a double take. “Hey fellows, look, it’s the milk horse.”

“We bring milk to the children.” Corre said. “What do you do?”
”We raceeeee.” The other horse shouted. The gates opened, and he was gone.

Despite Corre’s efforts to keep up, dirt from the other horses filled his mouth, his eyes, and clogged his nose. Soon they were thundering down the backstretch. Corre could barely keep up. The man on his back leaned over and shouted in his ear. “Now Corre’s, show them what you can do.” the young horse felt a burst of energy surge through him. Soon he felt as if he was flying. His hooves were a blur. He passed the sixth horse the fifth the fourth and was closing in on the first horse when he woke up. His hooves running fast going no where. Corre woke up and realized his mother had left. He lay in the warmth where she had Layen. He thought about the dream. Could he be a racehorse?

Corre wandered out of the barn and into the pasture. He watched the sunrise. In his heart, he made the determination to become a racehorse. He ran around the field. Huffing and puffing, he came to a halt by the fence. A huge bull looked up. He smiled. Despite the reputation of bulls being nasty and mean, Lou was pretty mild-mannered.

“Well, hello there, young feller. You must be Maggie’s colt?” He and Corre touched noses.

“My mommy pulls the milk cart.” Corre said. His spindly legs unsteady after his run.

“Yup, that’s Maggie alright. Been doing that for years, at least as long as I’ve been here. Names Lou, by the way.”

My mommy said my name is Corre. ”“Ah, a Spanish name. Corre Como el Viento. Means runs like the wind.” The old bull said, nodding his head.

“Runs like the wind? But I can’t run like the wind. I can barely stand up.” Corre said.

The old bull laughed. “But you will, my young friend. You will. Tell you what, I will help you.”
“You will.” Oh, that would be great. But how will you do that? “ Corre said.

“I will meet you here each morning. And I will give you pointers from the great race horses I have known.” Lou smiled. “We will make your name fit.”Corre smiled.

And so they did. Each morning, just after daylight, they met at the fence.

The first morning, Lou had him walk in a circle. When he returned, Lou said, “Now do it again.”” Can I run?” Corre said, eager to show Lou what he could do.”
”Not yet. Now, as you walk, look for holes and dips in the ground.” Corre walked the circle, noting dips and holes. Once more, he returned to the fence.

“One more time. But this time you find a smooth path level and good to run on.” This time Corre drug his feet. This was getting boring. Lou smiled at the colt. Coming even with the bull. Corre said. “Now what wou…”
”Go.” Lou bellowed.

Corre stared at him, expecting further instructions.

“Go go,go.” Corre ran his tail straight out behind him. It felt good. He breathed deep of the meadow air, the sun warmed his back, he stirred up a bunch of butterflies. Corre stumbled, hitting a hole he had forgotten about. He limped back over to the fence.

Lou smiled. “Found a hole, huh?”

“Yes, I got off the path.” Corre said, hanging his head.

“Wanta quit.” Lou said.

“No.” Corre almost shouted.

“Good. Then do it again.” Lou said, smiling. The old bull knew that if he could build up the colt’s spirit, it would be more valuable to him than being the fastest horse on the track.

So Corre did it again and again and again until his mother came home. The next day, he met the bull at the fence and every morning during the summer. Corre kept running until he exhausted himself. The young horse loved running. He did not know if he was fast or slow.

Yet the old bull knew. He watched the young horse with a critical eye. The old milkman knew. With his arms on the gate to the pasture, Elmer watched and smiled. On the milk route, he talked to his horse. Maggie listened and dreamed. Her son, the racehorse.

In the spring, when Corre was a year old, Elmer placed him on the milk cart. He smiled as he thought about what he was going to do. One farm he visited two times a week was HIllbare Acres. He delivered milk and sometimes cream. Corre hated the slow pace. He wanted to run. To fly as he had in the pasture. Yet Lou and his mother urged him to go slow. “If you upset the milk cart, you will lose the milk and the children will cry.”

So Corre tried to enjoy the morning. He looked at the fields, at other horses plowing, others carrying riders. Coming up the lane to HIllbare Acres, his ears perked up. On a track in one field, a beautiful filly ran. Seeing Corre, she smiled at him and picked up speed. Corre‘s feet itched. He danced in place.

“Easy fella, don’t give yourself away.” Elmer whispered. Something was going on and Corre wasn’t sure what it was. The rider brought the filly to the fence of the track.

“Morning Elmer. New horse?” Ken Philps said. The owner of HIllbare Acres Ken said. Ken inherited the farm from his father.

“Maggie’s youngster.” Elmer said, patting Corre on the neck. “Thought I’d try him out on the milk cart,” Corre danced in place. “Wants to run.”
”This is Seira. Tell you what,” Ken said, rubbing his chin. “Unharness him and let him run around the track with her.” Ken laughed. “Wear him out.”
” You sure.” Elmer said.

“Sure, give him a run for his money or hay,” Ken said. He called to a small man over by the barn. “Bob, put a saddle on this horse.”

Mucking out the stable, Bob was glad for a little relief. Ten minutes later, Corre was standing beside the filly. Elmer leaned over and whispered in Corre’s ear. “Show them what you can do, Lightning.”

Corre ears came forward. Lightening? He called me Lightning. Corre thought.

Ken leaned over the fence, a white cloth in his hand. “Go.” He shouted, bringing the cloth down. In his mind Corre heard Lou shouting, “Go.”

“Boy, this is fun, isn’t it?” Corre said, matching the filly. Corre ran shoulder to shoulder. They entered the backstretch.

“This is a race, handsome. We see who can cross the finish line first.” Seira said.

“Oh, ok I guess I better do that. “Corre pulled away. He came around the last turn, flying. Several lengths ahead of Seira.

Ken stood with his mouth open. Corre thundered a crossed the finish line.

He came back and smiled at Seira. “Boy, that was fun.”

Breathing hard, Seira just looked at him. “Yeah?”

Ken turned to Elmer. “You fooled me.”
Elmer smiled. “Nope, this is Maggie’s colt.”

“I’ll buy him from you. We’ll train him and enter him in the Derby.” Ken said.

“Well, now.” Elmer said, rubbing his chin. “I don’t know. I’m kinda fond of this young fella.”

“I’ll give you fifty thousand. “Ken said.

“I could sure use the money, but he’d miss his mamma.” Elmer said. “I was thinking of retiring.”

“We’ll bring him over every once in a while for a visit.” Ken said, determined to have the horse.

So, this is part of the story of how Corre Como el Viento, renamed Lightning Strikes, became the triple crown winner. The rest is documented in the annals of history. Maggie and Lou knew it all along. How a milk horse could become a triple crown winner.