After all the nuisance calls, I could own 0.04 per cent of a racehorse for £55

Sean O'Grady has never seen horse flesh so finely diced before, this side of Belgian butcher's shop

Activists condemn the 'cruel' treatment of horses no longer able to race (Getty)

Well, the nuisance calls keep coming, don't they. The last one I got was from "the incident helpline", who tried to imply that they were calling on behalf of an insurance company named Motor Investigations – which, if it is anything, is not an insurance company.

Usually, as I have written before, I regard it as a private pleasure and public duty to keep these callers on the phone for as long as possible. But this one actually got on my nerves so much that I couldn't endure more than about 10 minutes before I put my mobile in a drawer.

It's much less blunt than putting the phone down, and it leaves them with the possibility that the connection's gone wrong – a sort of face-saving measure, though why I should be so solicitous, I'm not sure.

Last week I suggested to one of them – this was again a speculative call about "the road traffic accident you had" – that, contrary to her claim she was contacting me on behalf of an insurer, this was in fact a "random cold call". "Yes, well I suppose it is. Now can I ask you some questions?"

Such was the refreshing honesty, I almost wanted to skip down the garden path with her to my "allocated" £2,500 worth of damages. But I couldn't be bothered.

I also couldn't be bothered to follow up an advert in a rival paper I found the other day. In among the ads for "life- changing bathrooms" and car canopies, I was struck by the headline: "NOW YOU CAN BECOME A RACEHORSE OWNER".

Now I wouldn't want to disparage this "superb deal", as it was described – and, to be fair, nowhere is it called an "investment" and nor are any glittering returns suggested. The offer is for one share – representing 0.04 per cent of the nag – for £55.

You also get a proportionate share of any prize money, plus a monthly newsletter "for the duration of the syndicate". Part-ownership of a horse is not new, but I'd never seen the horse flesh so finely diced before, this side of Belgian butcher's shop.

According to its website, the maximum number of shares that can be purchased by one person is 250 – stated as 10 per cent of the value of the horse, which will set you back £13,750. I have no idea whether a notional value of £137,500, presumably, should be attached to "Moabit" the horse being sold off in bits.

The website says: "Moabit is a very good-looking son of Azamour and has won his last two starts in France. A very athletic and eye-catching individual, Moabit should be sent juvenile hurdling this winter". It means absolutely nothing to me.

Unlike cold calling, which I feel well acquainted with, Moabit is a stranger to me. Even so, I wish him, and his fractional owners, well.