The new year (and new decade) got off to a rough start. On January 7th, in broad daylight, while we were at lunch in Clayton (a very safe part of St. Louis), my car was broken into parked on the street (DeMun). The rear passenger window was smashed, and my backpack and Jane’s purse were stolen.
Window gone 
Broken glass
Our friend, with whom we had spent less than an hour at lunch, during which short time the crime occurred, pointed out to me how stupid we were to leave the backpack and purse in the car. Admittedly so, but I have been operating this way for over 60 years without a problem, until now. I’m sure that friend would still say I am stupid, but had only been lucky.
Jane had her wallet in her pocket, but her car key fob and her checkbook were in her purse. Since Harry was planning to pay for lunch, everything was in my backpack – wallet with a lot of cash (we had recently been on a trip to New York), all but one of my credit cards (five), two pairs of prescription glasses, driver’s license, check book. And so many things that cannot be replaced – journals of trips taken, my favorite bandana that has been on all our river trips, and my sense of the basic decency of people. All gone.
As problems go, this was a very insignificant one, but made quite an impact. I won’t go into all the details, but it was a new experience and an unpleasant one.
And, problems coming in clusters, we had sad news from Michele Smith that Largo had lost sight in his remaining “good” eye. The humane course was the difficult, but right choice, to put him down.
Largo was born into racing royalty at Calumet, in Lexington, Kentucky in 2002. He was by Quiet American, whose son, Real Quiet, almost won the Triple Crown, winning the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness and losing the Belmont by a mere 4 inches. So Largo, who was given the unfortunate name of Maxi Max, seemed destined for Grade 1 racing glory. He did win a couple of races, but soon was given away, as a five year old who had not really excelled.
A friend bought him as a sale prospect and sent him to me to start him jumping, and he was a natural. From the very first, Largo thought going over obstacles was fun and made perfect sense. He was a joyful character, I loved him, and bought him myself.
We did a bit of eventing…
Largo’s first competition 
Largo at Catalpa
and some horse showing, and clinics with George Morris…
Largo was a delight, but his feet were a nightmare. It was a constant battle to keep shoes on his weak, shelly hooves. This is not unheard of with Thoroughbreds, as everyone knows. But Largo, who was better than most in so many ways, was worse than most when it came to feet. “No foot, no horse” was driven home. We tried everything, from supplements to casts. Eventually, we were told (by the fourth horseshoer we enlisted) that Largo could not live out on grass twelve hours a day if we wanted to ride him.
Largo and Bart 
Largo and Oisin
So, we donated him to William Woods University, where life would be stimulating with plenty of activity, where he would have a useful and appreciated existence, and where turnout would be limited to sand. It was, thanks to Michele Smith, a perfect home for him, and he was very happy and beloved by all, as he had been here…
Harry on Largo 
Nancy on Largo 
Jane on Pilgrim, Hillary on Largo
Alas, last summer, Largo lost sight in one eye. They adapted at WWU – he wore a blinder on his “bad” eye to prevent shadows from startling him. All was well. But then, the other eye went bad.
In the end, Largo had a great life. He was always a happy horse, he had many adventures, and was loved by countless riders, who will remember him with love. I am among them. So long, Largo Star…
Sorry the start of 2020 was so rough. Better days to come!
I just read this, it’s a lovely story. I wish there were a blog, as good as yours Anne, that would do nothing but share stories such as Largo’s. I am convinced many exist. The OTTB’s “afterlife” once leaving the track may be circuitous, sometimes happier and more direct, but we hear so many sad stories. A blog about the “afterlife” and the galloping through the last gate of the lucky ones might insure more stories such as Largo’s. Stories that say, Yes! Good things happen, and Yes! it can be done!