Diminished Body, Persevering Spirit

The first few weeks of Barbaro's stay were extremely hectic at New Bolton, one of the two top equine clinics in the country, as television trucks filled the parking lot and reporters camped for days in the hospital lobby.

"It took some getting used to," said Kasey McCafferty, 27, a nurse in the neo-natal intensive care unit. "When you came in the driveway, you had to show your ID. We've had other big stories, but nothing that continued on for so long."

Even now, the hospital lobby remains crowded with giant get-well cards covered with children's signatures. Care packages arrive daily with cookies, chocolates and treats for the staff and carrots for their famous patient.

"It's kind of odd because we've gotten used to it now, but it's very surreal," said Liberty Getman, a third-year resident physician who fills in for Richardson when he is elsewhere. "You can't go anywhere wearing a New Bolton shirt. You can't go to the grocery store or anywhere without being stopped and asked how he is. When you leave here, it becomes more obvious."

The intensive care unit has eight stalls with wooden doors and cinderblock walls. Five are used for neo-natal care in the spring, when most thoroughbred foals are delivered, and Richardson said "it is totally jam-packed" at that time. Now, however, in the fall, it is cool and quiet. Barbaro has his own stall in a corner.

The building has a carefully monitored room temperature and people must wear designated scrubs and coveralls and dip their shoes in a disinfectant wash upon entering and exiting.

Richardson or, more often, Getman, checks on Barbaro each day at 6 a.m. to see how he got through the night and to change his bandages. Four times a day, nurses feed him alfalfa, grass, hay and grain enriched with supplements. They monitor vital signs twice daily and give him antibiotics for his left foot, which, though not infected, remains an open wound.

Barbaro is groomed every day and receives visitors, his extended human family. Gretchen Jackson brings freshly cut grass from her nearby farm in West Grove. Trainer Michael Matz visits regularly. Richardson occasionally allows Matz into the stall to groom Barbaro and apply front bandages. Matz wraps the legs just as he did when the horse was an undefeated 3-year-old with Triple Crown potential. Edgar Prado, his jockey, makes it down from New York from time to time.

The highlight of the horse's day comes when Richardson leads him outdoors to graze.

At night, the lights are dimmed and Barbaro and the other I.C.U. residents receive periodic checks. The Derby winner rarely stirs, Richardson said. "He's a good sleeper."

A Model Patient, Mostly

Like many top-class racehorses, Barbaro is alert and inquisitive. On a recent afternoon, he flirted with a cow penned at the hospital. Barbaro only backed away when his new playmate attempted to administer a slobbering bovine lick to his face.

"He has a lot of personality," Richardson said. "Sometimes he's a firebrand, jumping up and down and trying to rip your head off, and sometimes he's very sweet. He's very complete."