Yes, that was the name of the horse.  Don't ask me why, o.k.? This is already my second attempt to blog about ?him? and all the etceteras.  [Just deleted my first attempt.]

There was a horse, you see -- I mean a real actual living horse not a writer's fantasy metaphor.  [And me, though time has dampened my both enthusiasm and access, I might still "moughtily" prefer the real animal horses (for too many reasons) to the metaphors....]

This horse was trained for horse racing ... i.e. (evidemment) this horse was raised to compete for the making of money for the horse's owner.  [A guy who ran a repaint-your-motor-vehicle company which -- as my repainted those days Toyota pick-up truck can testify -- did o.k. work and any way was well known in those parts those days.]

So how -- all those many years since the last I'd ever thought of going to the horse races (for which my one tutor -- a fellow music student in our music student days whose family took her to the horse races regularly -- told me the important thing was to WEAR A BIG HAT!) .... How did I happen to know about this particular horse?

Well, through a "horse trader", of course ... only now I'm talking metaphor, so the story gets a bit too complicated for a single blog.

So, as I said this is "Part 1", I'd best wind this down ?'for the nonce'? except ...

well, no, I'm not going to spoil the story before I even start writing it. ;-)

"to be continued"