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Description
ROLLOVER NOW YAY

She was growing up into a stunning horse. Not a stunner in terms of colour, being a dull shade of bay, but one where personality, build and reputation were concerned. She stood at just over 16 hands with shoes, and was rapidly filling out into a fine young mare. Her eyes shone with enthusiasm and attitude. She was pushy, and a pain to anyone who couldn’t take it, but to those she respected she was a sweetheart. She also had a voice, and she knew how to use it, belting out long and demanding whinnies every time someone walked past her door or she felt it was time for food; banging the door loudly. She adored attention, although she always had to have it her way, pressing herself into you and using you as a scratching post. As for her reputation – well, what could we say? She was a proven Group 1 horse who was frequently winning over distance with gas left in the tank. In most races she signed up for she was sent off as favourite and already this season she’d shown a glimpse of what she could really do. Graham wanted to race her in some high levels this season, see how she fared against the best the country and indeed the world could offer. The Coronation Cup, a 1m 4f race, showcased some fantastic horses that would give her a run for her money, although we had faith in her ability. Originally with their hearts in their mouths the staff took her up to Epsom and proceeded to watch her morning workouts with growing confidence.

The morning of the race was foggy and damp, the track officials checking the grass with worried looks. The races that ran before the Cup were on soft ground with lots of cut in the soil, the horses digging their heels in in a bid to gain the upper hand. De Vere watched horse after horse flash past the finish line, and then it was his turn. He wheeled from his position outside the jockey’s room and went to fetch his hat and goggles, and then to find Graham, who was waiting stoically outside the weighing room with the tack. ‘Would you hurry up, Freddie? You’ve got five minutes, no more. Go, go, go!’

She came out of the tunnel glowing like a star; the grooms had done a fantastic job. She stood still and calm as she was tacked up and the crowd clamoured behind the rails, but her ears were pricked and her tail swished anxiously. Freddie hopped up on her and smoothly took control, cantering her up to the stalls with a no nonsense air. He was nervous too, Graham could see it. He hadn’t ridden in anything like this before. Alex, too, who was sitting in the owner’s enclosure with Eliza squirming next to him, saw it too and his eyes narrowed slightly. With a nervous jockey, they couldn’t afford anything to go wrong.

Thankfully, Paps loaded without a fuss, keeping one ear trained on her jockey. Her hide shone through the bars of the gate, her nostrils flared. A heartbeat was all the time they had before the bell rang; and they sprang from the gates like the devil himself was after them, tearing around the slight left hand turn and settling behind the pacesetter, a brilliant chestnut colt. Paps took up fifth place, floundering on the soft ground like a swan attempting to gain enough speed for flight. Her tail flagged out behind her as she dug her heels in and gradually gained ground on her competitors. Every stride took her closer, as her sixteen odd hands and her elastic stride gave her the edge. Freddie flashed a cheeky smile at the former forth place jockey as they barrelled past them, before returning to the matter at hand and giving Paps a shake of the reins. The poles flashed by more quickly despite a rumble in her throat that extended into an unhealthy sounding snort with every breath. He tried to slow her up, even rising in his stirrups, but she ignored him and took the bit between her teeth. She wanted to show the crowd and indeed the whole of the country that she wasn’t going to be beaten by a mere breathing problem.

Paper Money valiantly overtook the third place horse, followed swiftly by the next. The leader however was a highly respected distance horse who liked to take up the pace early and follow it through, by the name of French Respect. His bay hide bunched and shone in front of their eyes, and it didn’t get any closer. Freddie felt Pap’s breathing become more laboured and she gurgled as she strained for every centimetre, yet still Respect held his place, a half stride in front. They flew past the wire and Freddie drew his mount up quickly, walking her towards Graham with a worried expression.

‘Her breathing’s not right,’ his face was pale and sweaty. She still gurgled as she caught her breath, and Graham nodded.

‘I can hear. It sounds to me like a little bit of DDSP, but that’s odd because she’s never had it before...I’m going to call the vet over.’

He returned with the vet and he listened to her breathing and placed a stethoscope to her chest. They waited with her in the stable, until she swallowed a few times, and the noise stopped. At that the vet patted her shoulder gently and removed his stethoscope. ‘She’ll be fine now, hopefully it’s not recurrent since she’s never had it before and as you said, there’s no record of it in her lineage. Bit of bad luck, that’s all. Congratulations on the race, though. She’s a special horse to keep trying even with DDSP, that’s for sure.’ He left with a smile and a wave.
--
When she returned to work at a fast pace, the breathing problems kept recurring. She would reach a fantastic pace, keep it up for a while, then suddenly cough or gurgle and the speed would fizzle out. She soon lost the fire that used to be present in her eyes. It shrunk with every strained breath and it was decided that she’d had her time on the track.
Word was sent out that she was retiring to become a broodmare, and her racing bridle was hung up for good.

Information

Name: Paper Money
Barn Name: Paps
Gender: Mare
Height: Projected 16.3hh
Color: Light Dun Bay
Eyes: Brown
Markings/Build: One sock on LH, one half pastern on RH. Tall yet muscular build, adequate for distance. Neck is rather thick.
Breed: Thoroughbred
Lineage: Foundation
Discipline: Flat Racing
Genes: Ee/Aa
Temperament: Paps knows when she can get away with things. You will often be bombarded by her massive frame as she rams into you in hope of a treat, yet show her who's boss and she'll soon respect you. She has a quick mind that can come across as cheeky, which she is when she's just pinched a whole packet of polos from your back pocket and eaten them, wrappings and all. She can also have a fiery temper though, so beware days when she's mareish.
For Stud/Lease: OPEN, realistic thoroughbreds only. See journal for more information.

Racing Stats

Season Stats
Season: 4 year old
Total Wins: 7 starts 6/1/-
Grouped Stakes Wins: 6
Season Earnings so far(in UK currency): £855,456
Racing Style: Stalker (sometimes frontrunner), miler
Titles:

Lifetime Stats

Career Wins: 20 starts--12/3/-
Grouped Stakes Wins: 6
Lifetime Earnings (in UK currency): £1,021,703
Racing Style: Stalker (sometimes frontrunner), miler
Titles: Cartier Top Stayer

---

So yep this means that Paps is up for brood! My second ever HARPG horse is gonna have babiesssss! I am so excited right now.

You may have noticed a bit of a style change here, I've been trying to make my lines more varied but I kind of failed. Sorry! I hope she looks suitably pretty for your studs, though!

Art & Character (C) me

Description
ROLLOVER NOW YAY

She was growing up into a stunning horse. Not a stunner in terms of colour, being a dull shade of bay, but one where personality, build and reputation were concerned. She stood at just over 16 hands with shoes, and was rapidly filling out into a fine young mare. Her eyes shone with enthusiasm and attitude. She was pushy, and a pain to anyone who couldn’t take it, but to those she respected she was a sweetheart. She also had a voice, and she knew how to use it, belting out long and demanding whinnies every time someone walked past her door or she felt it was time for food; banging the door loudly. She adored attention, although she always had to have it her way, pressing herself into you and using you as a scratching post. As for her reputation – well, what could we say? She was a proven Group 1 horse who was frequently winning over distance with gas left in the tank. In most races she signed up for she was sent off as favourite and already this season she’d shown a glimpse of what she could really do. Graham wanted to race her in some high levels this season, see how she fared against the best the country and indeed the world could offer. The Coronation Cup, a 1m 4f race, showcased some fantastic horses that would give her a run for her money, although we had faith in her ability. Originally with their hearts in their mouths the staff took her up to Epsom and proceeded to watch her morning workouts with growing confidence.

The morning of the race was foggy and damp, the track officials checking the grass with worried looks. The races that ran before the Cup were on soft ground with lots of cut in the soil, the horses digging their heels in in a bid to gain the upper hand. De Vere watched horse after horse flash past the finish line, and then it was his turn. He wheeled from his position outside the jockey’s room and went to fetch his hat and goggles, and then to find Graham, who was waiting stoically outside the weighing room with the tack. ‘Would you hurry up, Freddie? You’ve got five minutes, no more. Go, go, go!’

She came out of the tunnel glowing like a star; the grooms had done a fantastic job. She stood still and calm as she was tacked up and the crowd clamoured behind the rails, but her ears were pricked and her tail swished anxiously. Freddie hopped up on her and smoothly took control, cantering her up to the stalls with a no nonsense air. He was nervous too, Graham could see it. He hadn’t ridden in anything like this before. Alex, too, who was sitting in the owner’s enclosure with Eliza squirming next to him, saw it too and his eyes narrowed slightly. With a nervous jockey, they couldn’t afford anything to go wrong.

Thankfully, Paps loaded without a fuss, keeping one ear trained on her jockey. Her hide shone through the bars of the gate, her nostrils flared. A heartbeat was all the time they had before the bell rang; and they sprang from the gates like the devil himself was after them, tearing around the slight left hand turn and settling behind the pacesetter, a brilliant chestnut colt. Paps took up fifth place, floundering on the soft ground like a swan attempting to gain enough speed for flight. Her tail flagged out behind her as she dug her heels in and gradually gained ground on her competitors. Every stride took her closer, as her sixteen odd hands and her elastic stride gave her the edge. Freddie flashed a cheeky smile at the former forth place jockey as they barrelled past them, before returning to the matter at hand and giving Paps a shake of the reins. The poles flashed by more quickly despite a rumble in her throat that extended into an unhealthy sounding snort with every breath. He tried to slow her up, even rising in his stirrups, but she ignored him and took the bit between her teeth. She wanted to show the crowd and indeed the whole of the country that she wasn’t going to be beaten by a mere breathing problem.

Paper Money valiantly overtook the third place horse, followed swiftly by the next. The leader however was a highly respected distance horse who liked to take up the pace early and follow it through, by the name of French Respect. His bay hide bunched and shone in front of their eyes, and it didn’t get any closer. Freddie felt Pap’s breathing become more laboured and she gurgled as she strained for every centimetre, yet still Respect held his place, a half stride in front. They flew past the wire and Freddie drew his mount up quickly, walking her towards Graham with a worried expression.

‘Her breathing’s not right,’ his face was pale and sweaty. She still gurgled as she caught her breath, and Graham nodded.

‘I can hear. It sounds to me like a little bit of DDSP, but that’s odd because she’s never had it before...I’m going to call the vet over.’

He returned with the vet and he listened to her breathing and placed a stethoscope to her chest. They waited with her in the stable, until she swallowed a few times, and the noise stopped. At that the vet patted her shoulder gently and removed his stethoscope. ‘She’ll be fine now, hopefully it’s not recurrent since she’s never had it before and as you said, there’s no record of it in her lineage. Bit of bad luck, that’s all. Congratulations on the race, though. She’s a special horse to keep trying even with DDSP, that’s for sure.’ He left with a smile and a wave.
--
When she returned to work at a fast pace, the breathing problems kept recurring. She would reach a fantastic pace, keep it up for a while, then suddenly cough or gurgle and the speed would fizzle out. She soon lost the fire that used to be present in her eyes. It shrunk with every strained breath and it was decided that she’d had her time on the track.
Word was sent out that she was retiring to become a broodmare, and her racing bridle was hung up for good.

Information

Name: Paper Money
Barn Name: Paps
Gender: Mare
Height: Projected 16.3hh
Color: Light Dun Bay
Eyes: Brown
Markings/Build: One sock on LH, one half pastern on RH. Tall yet muscular build, adequate for distance. Neck is rather thick.
Breed: Thoroughbred
Lineage: Foundation
Discipline: Flat Racing
Genes: Ee/Aa
Temperament: Paps knows when she can get away with things. You will often be bombarded by her massive frame as she rams into you in hope of a treat, yet show her who's boss and she'll soon respect you. She has a quick mind that can come across as cheeky, which she is when she's just pinched a whole packet of polos from your back pocket and eaten them, wrappings and all. She can also have a fiery temper though, so beware days when she's mareish.
For Stud/Lease: OPEN, realistic thoroughbreds only. See journal for more information.

Racing Stats

Season Stats
Season: 4 year old
Total Wins: 7 starts 6/1/-
Grouped Stakes Wins: 6
Season Earnings so far(in UK currency): £855,456
Racing Style: Stalker (sometimes frontrunner), miler
Titles:

Lifetime Stats

Career Wins: 20 starts--12/3/-
Grouped Stakes Wins: 6
Lifetime Earnings (in UK currency): £1,021,703
Racing Style: Stalker (sometimes frontrunner), miler
Titles: Cartier Top Stayer

---

So yep this means that Paps is up for brood! My second ever HARPG horse is gonna have babiesssss! I am so excited right now.

You may have noticed a bit of a style change here, I've been trying to make my lines more varied but I kind of failed. Sorry! I hope she looks suitably pretty for your studs, though!

Art & Character (C) me