Celebre D’Allen Died So You Could Place a Bet

Another Grand National. Another dead horse.  

This year it was Celebre D’Allen - a 13-year-old who led the field with three fences to go, before his body gave out, his lungs gave in, and he collapsed. He was walked off the track by vets, spent the night under observation, and then quietly died.  

Cue the press release parade.  

“He received the very best treatment.”  

“He was much-loved.”  

“He was a wonderful horse.”  

He’s now a corpse.  

Let’s be clear: this wasn’t an accident. It was inevitable.

Celebre D’Allen “had no more to give.” That’s not a metaphor. He literally had nothing left, and they made him keep going. His jockey was banned for 10 days - not for riding in a race that kills horses, but for not hiding it better.  

This is how the industry works. They push animals to exhaustion and beyond. Then they tell us how “gutted” they are when those animals die. And the public? They shrug and place their bets for next year.  

This isn’t sport. It’s slaughter in slow motion.

The racing industry loves the language of care. “Best possible treatment.” “Loved member of the team.” “Thorough vet checks.” All designed to give the illusion of concern while masking the reality: horses are property. Tools. Disposable assets in a game of risk and return.  

The British Horseracing Authority says Celebre D’Allen passed multiple checks to ensure he was “fit to race.” Maybe he was fit - until they ran him to death.  

What kind of system proudly boasts about all the safety checks that didn’t stop an animal from dying?  

What happened to Celebre D’Allen wasn’t a fluke. It was the cost of doing business.

The Grand National isn’t some harmless tradition - it’s an endurance gauntlet designed to break bodies. Every year, horses fall. Every year, some don’t get back up.  

Then come the headlines. The tributes. The noise. And then the silence. Until next year.  

If a horse collapses and dies, but the betting slips pay out - did anyone even notice?

This is how moral anaesthesia works. Drown the death in euphemisms. Dress up exploitation in ceremony. Talk about love while profiting from someone’s destruction.  

And if anyone dares to challenge it? Cue the outrage. “Horses love to run!” “They’re bred for it!” “They’re treated like kings!”  

Really? Kings aren’t whipped for slowing down. Kings aren’t banned from retiring. Kings don’t die mid-race and get replaced by the next disposable body.  

Celebre D’Allen didn’t die doing what he loved. He died because people loved what he did.  

This is animal use, plain and simple.

Horses don’t race themselves. They don’t line up at the starting gate for fun. They are broken, trained, controlled, and pushed. They don’t sign contracts. They don’t opt in.  

And when they collapse, people mourn the loss of a good horse - not the injustice of the system that killed him.  

Because that’s the real trick. We don’t talk about responsibility. We talk about misfortune.  

We don’t ask whether the Grand National should exist. We ask who’s tipped to win next year.  

This isn’t grief. It’s gaslighting.

The racing industry talks about “improving safety.” But safety for whom? Certainly not for the horses who never make it home.  

They say they’ve made progress. But if the goal is to stop horses dying, and horses are still dying, then what kind of “progress” is that?  

No one is entitled to someone else’s life for entertainment. Not if it’s dressed up as tradition. Not if it’s televised. Not if there’s a trophy at the end.  

Horse racing needs to end - not be reformed, not made ‘kinder’, but abolished.

Because until it does, horses like Celebre D’Allen will keep collapsing. Vets will keep trying. Stables will keep posting tributes. And bodies will keep piling up behind the curtain of the “sport of kings.”  

And people will keep calling it sad. Instead of calling it what it is. Unjust. Deliberate. And deadly.

Want to stop this? Stop funding it. Stop betting. Stop watching. Speak up. Demand abolition. Because Celebre D’Allen didn’t need better luck - he needed freedom.