Following my remarkable gambling success of last weekend, where Khulood carried my cash all the way to 19th place (out of 19 runners) in the 1000 Guineas, I fled to Wales this week, where I found myself betting on a horse in the middle of the Brecon Beacons. If a horse can stand on the tarmac outside a restaurant for over half an hour without moving a muscle, it seems reasonable to bet a friend a tenner that it's stuffed. Well I thought so anyway. Of course, within 10 seconds of shaking on the deal, the horse strolled off. Which just goes to show you don't always get your money back when you bet on a non-runner.