This was how every day of Danny’s life began; every day that is except Labor Day. Whenever he started a new job he always told his boss, “I’ll work every day except Labor Day, but I needs my holiday.” None of his employers understood why Labor Day was “his” holiday; actually, it seemed little reward for all the long, hard hours he spent at their barn.

   But Danny loved his work. He loved to “rub” a horse, to feel the tendons and bones of their legs, checking for any swelling or heat and apply the liniments and poultices he had learn to make from recipes developed long ago; likewise, on race day he would neatly braid the mane and have the horse’s coat glisten to accent the checkerboard pattern he had brushed over their hindquarters and remain hopefull he would stand in the winner’s circle showing off the results of the work he was so well known for that trainers sought him out to take care of their horses on race day. The owners knew him too and when they came to the barn Danny would make sure he had on a worn white tee shirt and paints pockets pulled out all full of holes as he did his “Ain’t doing no good, boss” routine, which along with his downtrodden look always got him at least a couple of dollars.