"I told myself at the beginning that I wouldn't get attached, but you just can't help it."

ANIMAL SCIENCE Wishes Were Horses Tessa, a five-month-old bay Arabian filly, stands slightly skittish in the white-fenced arena as the bidding for her begins. She's still just a baby, though her velvet red-brown back is already chest high on Lisa Goodrich, the young woman holding her reins--a UC Davis intern who has cared for the foal since birth. Lisa looks equally anxious. The auctioneer starts the bidding at $250. The price quickly reaches $500 in UC Davis' annual horse auction as several folks on the bleachers contend for her. "500, now 525; 500, now 525; 500, now 525--there 525! 525, now 550, five-and-a-quarter, now 550--I think you should!--525, 550--there 550!" chants the auctioneer. Lisa scowls, her brow wrinkling as she squints in the sun and frowns toward the crowd. Lisa wants the white-blazed weanling more than she wants anything else right now. So she's asked her father to bid for her--in a contest that is rapidly approaching Lisa's top dollar. She plans to spend no more than $650. Tessa lifts her head, tossing her nose in Lisa's direction; the little horse has become just as attached to her caregiver as Lisa is to her. Lisa Goodrich is one of three foal managers who, as part of a six-month animal-science internship, has cared for the 16 foals born this year and last to the mares at the UC Davis horse barn. Lisa and fellow interns Cheri Glassick and Yana Kageorgis have been midwives and moms to their equine charges. They spent many a long night awaiting the arrival of the new babies. They spent countless hours during winter and spring quarters grooming, exercising and training their equine infants daily. Before long the foals were like puppy dogs--following their foster moms and whinnying for them when they leave their sight. The internship program was begun five years ago to give students hands-on training in horse management. Students are not paid, but they do receive credit and experience that proves valuable if they pursue--as they often do--a career in the horse industry or a veterinary degree. Lisa, in fact, will soon be working at a horse breeding facility; she was hired on the spot during a job interview after describing her internship experience. Today, though, she concludes the internship by helping sell the foals. The annual auction, the culmination of the program, is part of the learning experience and a means to help fund the program. The foal managers handle all the details themselves, everything from advertising the event to hiring the auctioneer to showing the animals in the ring. But it's a bittersweet experience for all. The managers invariably become closely attached to their charges, and it's not uncommon, says Ken Taylor, horse barn supervisor, for the interns to bid on their favorite. Last year a Thoroughbred went for more than any foal had gone for before at the auction--$2,400--a price driven high in part, say the interns, by a bidding war involving one of that year's foal managers. Before this year's auction Lisa had made it clear that she wouldn't pay any more than $650 for Tessa. Not only did she not have that much money, this Arabian "wasn't worth more than that," she said with determined stoicism. It was clear Lisa would not let her heart rule her head; it was equally clear that losing Tessa would break her heart. "I told myself at the beginning that I wouldn't get attached, but you just can't help it," she said. She wasn't alone. The two other foal managers also planned to buy their favorites. Cheri had grown particularly attached to a quarterhorse named Jasmine. Born only a month before the auction, Jasmine will be sold next year. Cheri, who will then be in law school in Southern California (hoping eventually to focus on equine law), plans to return to buy her. Yana's favorite was Piggy, an Arabian yearling on the block this year. And, so, auction day. Yana, who holds Piggy in the arena, has her grandparents handle the bidding. And though the price quickly goes beyond her savings, Yana's grandparents keep on going with their own money--no doubt caught up in the excitement and reluctant to disappoint their granddaughter. The price tops $500, but Yana gets her foal. Then it's Lisa and Tessa's turn. "550 and now 575 to buy; 550, now 575, OK 575!" as the bidding becomes a contest between Lisa's father and a young man in a baseball cap. "And now 600; 600, 625 to buy; there 625! 625, now 650; 625, now 650; OK, 650!" and the young man has top bid. "650, now 675, come on now, 675; 650, now 675." Lisa gives her dad a raised-brow look that's part exasperation, part desperation--pleading. And he holds up his bid card. "675!, now 700; 675, now 700; 675 one time, 700? any more? 700? 700? Sold at 675!"--to Lisa.