By Susan Kayne
For Capital Region Independent Media
Dear Reader,
In the spirit of Anna Sewell’s timeless classic, “Black Beauty,” I invite you to step into the world of Marrazano, a beautiful Thoroughbred whose journey from the lush pastures of Kentucky to the sanctuary of Unbridled is a poignant reminder of the often-hidden realities behind the glamorous facade of horse racing.
Born in the spring of 2016, Marrazano, affectionately known as Mazzy, was the product of a celebrated lineage. Her sire, Verrazano, a multiple graded stakes winner, and her dam, She’s A Wow, a stunning yearling herself, imbued Mazzy with the promise of greatness. Like Black Beauty, her early days were filled with the tender care of her mother and the boundless joy of youth, racing through the verdant fields of her birthplace.
But as with Beauty, Mazzy’s idyllic early life was short-lived. At the tender age of two, she was thrust into the high-stakes world of competitive racing. Let us now hear from Mazzy herself in an excerpt from her incredible journey.
MAZZY’S STORY
“As a young filly, I had dreams of my own—dreams of frolicking freely in the lush pastures, of feeling the wind in my mane as I raced alongside my friends. But the reality of the racetrack was a far cry from those innocent yearnings.
The first time they put the bit in my mouth and the blinkers over my eyes, I felt a surge of panic. The equipment was foreign, restrictive, and it dulled my senses, leaving me feeling vulnerable and disoriented. I couldn’t understand why they would want to take away my natural ability to see and respond to the world around me.
When the starting gate flew open, the noise was deafening. The crowd’s roar, the pounding of hooves, the snorting of the other horses—it was an assault on my senses. I ran because I had to, because the other horses were running and the jockey on my back demanded it. But it wasn’t the joyful, free-spirited race I had once imagined.
With each stride, the bit cut into the sensitive corners of my mouth, a constant painful reminder of the control they had over me. The blinkers kept me focused straight ahead, but they also made me feel trapped, unable to see the world around me. I couldn’t read the other horses’ body language, couldn’t anticipate their movements. It was like racing blind, and it was terrifying.
As the races went on, the pressure only increased. The expectations of my handlers, the demand for speed at all costs—it took a toll on my body and my spirit. I could feel the unnatural pounding on my delicate legs, the strain on my muscles and joints. I knew, deep down, that this wasn’t what I was meant for. Horses weren’t designed to race like this, with equipment that inhibited our natural instincts and movement.
But I didn’t have a choice. I was a racehorse, and this was my life. I learned to endure the pain, the fear, and the stress. I ran because I had to, because it was all I knew. But in those moments on the track, I felt a profound longing for the freedom I had once known, for the simple joy of running on my own terms.
By the time I reached Louisiana Downs in August 2021, the instability that had been building within me finally gave way. Pulled up mid-race, I was vanned off in agony, my racing career cut short by the very industry that had once celebrated my potential.
From there, my life spiraled into a nightmare. No longer a promising investment, I was shuffled from auction to auction, each step taking me further from the track and closer to the grim fate of the slaughter pipeline. The indignities I suffered during this time are almost too painful to recount. Starved, beaten and neglected, I became a mere shadow of my former self. By the time I ended up in a livestock lot in Shirley, Arkansas, I was broken in both body and spirit, my once-regal face now marred and disfigured.
But even in my darkest moments, a flicker of hope remained. And on July 4, 2023, that hope burst into a brilliant flame as Unbridled Sanctuary saved me from the brink of despair. Stepping off the trailer and into the welcoming embrace of the sanctuary, I felt a profound sense of relief wash over me. Here, at last, was a place where I could heal, where I could learn to trust again.
Life at Unbridled is a world away from the chaos and cruelty of the racing industry. Here, I am surrounded by gentle hands and kind voices, by caregivers who understand the depths of my pain and the scars that lie beneath my skin. Each day brings new opportunities for healing, from the nourishing food and regular care to the innovative therapies that soothe my weary body.
As I reflect on my journey, I am filled with gratitude for the second chance at life that Unbridled has given me. Here, I am learning to trust again, to open my heart to the possibility of a future filled with love and respect. And while the scars of my past will always be a part of me, they no longer define me. Instead, I am defined by the resilience of my spirit, by the unbreakable bonds I have formed with my fellow survivors, and by the knowledge that I am finally home.
Looking back, I realize that the racing industry had stolen something precious from me—my agency, my natural way of being. They had taken a beautiful, instinctive act and turned it into something mechanical, something that served their interests rather than mine. The dreams whispered in my ears as a foal were not dreams of the racetrack, but of a life lived as a horse, unburdened by the expectations and cruelties of human ambition.
Thank you, dear reader, for bearing witness to my story. Your support of sanctuaries like Unbridled is a beacon of hope for horses like me—horses who have been cast aside by an industry that values profit over compassion. Together, we can build a world in which every horse is treated with the dignity and respect they so richly deserve.”
Mazzy’s story, though heartbreaking, is a testament to the incredible resilience of these majestic creatures and the transformative power of sanctuaries like Unbridled. Her journey reminds us of the urgent need for change within the racing industry, for a paradigm shift that prioritizes the well-being of horses above all else.
As we reflect on Mazzy’s experiences and those of countless other Thoroughbreds, let us remember that we have the power to make a difference. By supporting organizations like Unbridled, we can give voice to the voiceless and hope to the forgotten. We can be the change we wish to see in the world, the champions these horses so desperately need.
This summer, visit Unbridled Sanctuary, meet Mazzy in person, and learn how you can use your voice to create a future in which every horse has the chance to thrive, to know the joy of being loved and respected for the magnificent beings they are.
Susan Kayne is the founder and president of Unbridled Sanctuary, an equine rescue on the border of Albany County and Greenville.
