Up here in horsie heaven

By Barbaro
Martyr

Dear fans,

I write to you once again on the anniversary of my big win in the Kentucky Derby. Can you believe two years have passed since then? Lots of exciting things have happened in my life since then, and I have been enjoying my time in Horse Heaven.

The newest development has been the arrival of a lovely lady in my life. I haven’t known Eight Belles for long, but already I feel a very strong connection. She’s a little younger, of course, but her energy and beauty has brought me great joy. We’re already talking about a life together, perhaps with runs through the endless Horse Heaven pastures, sipping from the gold-rimmed troughs that are filled with mint julep, and maybe even starting a family.

(I kind of missed out on all the fun breeding that was supposed to happen after winning the derby, and now I finally have my chance. Since, you know, there’s no gravity here, it’s kind of cooler than on Earth, anyway).

Otherwise, things are pretty much the same in Horse Heaven. I’ve been supping diligently on my personal salt lick, which remains the size of a 1971 Buick Skylark despite my many fervent lickings. I like to have friendly races with other past Derby winners, gliding effortlessly through the scientifically-perfected field turf. It looks like real grass (and TASTES like real grass), but it’s actually synthetic! Can you believe that?

I never have to sleep, so that gives me ample time to catch up on my favorite football team, the Indianapolis Colts, and play a little fantasy football. Since we are granted omniscience here in Horse Heaven – and since you damn well better believe he’s on my fantasy team AND my real team – I can tell you whole heartedly that Marvin Harrison is innocent.

Also, I pee liberally.

I have been reading the Earth-bound newspapers since last Saturday’s race, and I see PETA is already calling for heads to roll. Eight Belles and I share a laugh about that a lot. I’m pretty sure they’re the only organization in the world that actually gets noticed every time they say something, just because what they have to say is so hilariously off base. The only way to make the crazy guy on the street corner stop begging for change is to ignore him. I wonder why America hasn’t done the same thing with PETA.

Seriously, if PETA hadn’t gotten everyone to think that animals had equal rights, maybe my long, agonizing drawn-out death would have been a little shorter. But that’s all water under the bridge. I’m in Horse Heaven now, and it rocks. Just the other day, I was talking to Secretariat about how crazy PETA was, and we both agreed that we could totally go for a gyro with pita bread.

Eight Belles says hi to everyone back home, and wants you to know that she wishes she could have won the race and made a statement for girl power everywhere. Keep your letters coming, little children!

Love,
Barbaro