Thus far, the Taylors seem largely unimpressed with the boxcar numbers. "I like money," says Mickey, "because that's the way you keep score. But all I want is my cowboy boots, a shirt, jeans and a coat for winter." Karen had been driving a pickup truck, but her grandmother felt it wasn't right for the owner of Seattle Slew to have such shabby transportation. So she gave Karen a new car. Rather, a new car for Karen. It's a 1967 white Mercury with 84,663 miles on it. Despite his country-boy oratory, Mickey is driving a leased Cadillac around the East. He got thoroughly lost in it in Baltimore after the Preakness. He finally drove into a fire station, hopped out and extended his hand to a bewildered fireman. "Hi, I'm the owner of Seattle Slew," he said. "I'll give you 50 Slew bumper stickers if you'll tell me how to get out of here."
So the laughter goes on. Somebody recalls the time the phone rang at the Hill house and a caller, not knowing that Jim is strictly a racehorse vet, told Sally tearfully that "my turtle's eyes are swollen shut." Sally asked Jim what to do and he said, "Flush him down the toilet and buy another turtle." Which really underlines what the Hills and Taylors know well. They very likely will never be able to find and buy another Seattle Slew, and so it's important to live these days to the hilt. Nobody can accuse Mickey Lucky & Co. of doing any less.