Ever since Dexter was born, he has been picked on because he is a half-breed and dreams of becoming a great race horse. Everyone knows that only thoroughbreds can race, but against all odds, a kind trainer sees something in Dexter that he does not see in the other colts and trains him to race. Dexter has the speed, but can he come to terms with who he is and believe in himself enough to win?
The first installment of the Dexter series, this book chronicles Dexter's early life, his struggle to come to terms with who he is, and his battle against the Racing Commission for his right to race.
Dexter was born on a late spring morning in the last stable down Sycamore Lane. The early morning sunshine poured through the stable window and warmed the shivering black colt as his mother nuzzled him. He struggled to get to his feet but fell back down.
“You can do it,” his mother Morning Glory encouraged him. She nudged his rump with her dark brown nose as he tried again. Dexter rose unsteadily to his feet and took a step. He took one more before his legs gave out and he fell again. After a few more tries Dexter was able to stand and walk on his own.
Later that afternoon Dexter and his mother were able to go out in the pasture. Dexter saw other colts romping in the pasture. They were laughing and playing.
“I’m going to be just like Deft Gordon!” he heard one of them shout with glee and ran very fast. Dexter decided to join them and approached the three colts playing tag. They were a lot older and bigger than he was.
“I’m Dexter,” he said to the brown colt. The colts stopped playing and looked at Dexter.
“I’m Flash, the best of the best,” the brown colt said.
“Can I play with you?” he asked Flash.
“We’re not going to play with you, half-breed!” the colt snorted. All three colts turned and ran away laughing.
Dexter was confused. He didn’t know why they didn’t want to play with him. Determined, Dexter decided to join a different group of colts who were running between their mothers’ legs. When they saw him coming, they too ran away laughing, calling him a half-breed too.
Dexter started to cry. He didn’t know what a half-breed was, or why they wouldn’t play with one. Tears rolling down his soft black cheeks, Dexter ambled to the side of the pond. He lay down and peered in at his reflection. Dexter didn’t think he looked any different from the other colts, but he couldn’t tell for sure. His coal black coat was short and soft, just like theirs. His tail was short and fluffy, his dark eyes were bright although hidden behind his tears, he had two socks on his hind legs, and a white star on his forehead. As far as Dexter could tell, he looked no different than the other colts.