People watching American Pharoah take his exercise at Belmont Park on Thursday morning could not help noticing that he had a friend with him. It happened to be a 6-year-old gelding named Smokey, who has been serving as general companion and calmer of nerves for American Pharoah during the horse’s potentially stress-filled attempt to become the first Triple Crown winner since 1978.
“He’s a sweetheart,” said Bob Baffert, American Pharoah’s trainer, who took time out from a prerace news conference Thursday to field some Smokey-related questions. “We call him bombproof.”
Smokey first caught Baffert’s eye in a horse catalog as Baffert searched for a laid-back, friendly horse to soothe the possible jitters not just of American Pharoah, but also of the other horses he trains. “Bob studies horse catalogs like you or I would study a shoe catalog,” said Baffert’s wife, Jill.
Speaking of Smokey, she added: “He’s never gotten upset or agitated.”
A lot of barns use companion ponies, or barn ponies, to provide steadying presences for nervy thoroughbreds that, like most high-maintenance creatures, do better with buddies who are less demanding then they are themselves (there is room for only one diva in a stall).
But sometimes other species will do just fine. “Some horses don’t necessarily want other horses,” Jill Baffert said.
A thoroughbred at Belmont named Strong Impact, for instance, keeps company with a pig named Charlie. On Thursday, the two could be found together in Strong Impact’s stall: one tall, shiny and alert, the other obese, muddy and asleep, a massive heap of porcine flesh spread out in the straw. Despite his resemblance to an overinflated pink zeppelin, Charlie seemed like a soothing presence, a giant snoring security blanket for a high-strung horse. Cheered up by the prospect of food, Charlie woke up at one point and ate some snacks alongside Strong Impact, their heads side by side.
The horse and the pig had an unusual start to their friendship. A few years ago, Charlie went looking for an equine companion, as if searching in Match.com’s “Pigs Seeking Horses” section.
“The pig went into every stall in the barn and all the horses were kicking and biting him, but Strong Impact didn’t do anything,” said Andres Garcia, the day watchman for Strong Impact and the other horses trained by Bruce Brown at Belmont. Indeed, over time, Strong Impact began to adjust to the reality that there was a pig sleeping next to him every day.
Like an old married couple, the two have developed a rapport depending more on proximity, comfort and routine than on, say, scintillating new experiences.
When Strong Impact travels for work, for instance, Charlie stays home, pining for him; when Charlie is outside his stall — among other things, he takes care of his toileting needs away from the barn — Strong Impact tries to herd him back inside.
“The horse worries when Charlie isn’t in the stall,” Garcia said.
Meanwhile, in a nearby barn, the horses in the care of the trainer Mike Maker are soothed by Fudgie, a goat, who sleeps in his own stall and functions as a consistent, stabilizing presence. He also likes to eat paper.
“He’s such a charmer,” said Lorita Lindemann, an assistant trainer. “Fudgie! Get out of her purse. We get almost no work done because we’re fussing with him.”
It is unclear why so many horses have particular goat friends, but Andrew Lakeman, a trainer at Belmont, said their fiery demeanors are complemented by the goats’ placidity. “Fillies in particular are very nervous, and the goats are good to them,” he said.
Why? “I don’t know why it is, but they get along,” said Tim Otano, a New York Racing Association transporter. “I’ve transported many horses with goats.”
Typically, the horse goes first and the goat follows.
“Sometimes the goats can be a little overprotective of the horses,” Otano said. “If you’re not careful, you’ll get chased around.”
Lisa Jackson, a spokeswoman for the Kentucky Horse Park, said that Rambling Willie, a racing champion who retired there some years ago, always went around with a goat named (as if he had a choice) Billy. “He didn’t necessarily care so much for him,” she said of Rambling Willie’s attitude toward Billy. “But God forbid anyone else should mess with his goat.” The two are buried together.
Some people believe, Jackson said, that the phrase “getting one’s goat” comes from horse racing.
“If your opponent’s horse was attached to his little goat and you wanted him not to do well, you would go in and steal the goat,” Jackson related. “Then the horse wouldn’t do well because he’s fretting and worrying about his little friend.”
Another famous horse at Kentucky Horse Park, John Henry, was known for being ornery and bad-tempered. One day, the horse was discovered standing stock still in his stall, raising the concerns of his trainer.
It turned out that a baby bird had fallen from a nest in the rafters above John Henry’s stall, Jackson said. “He was standing over it to protect it, and he stood over it for hours and he didn’t move until the trainer came and put the baby bird in its nest,” she said. (The bird was O.K.) “That mother had been nesting in that stall for years. Apparently, he knew that bird.”