“Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together, mass hysteria!” --Dr. Peter Venkman Okay, so it won’t be quite that crazy. Bill Murray’s droll parapsychologist from “Ghostbusters” was warning New York officials of what might follow in the wake of a supernatural invasion. He wasn’t far wrong, but it was a movie. Still, the prospect of Monday’s total solar eclipse that will span the continental United States already has triggered wholesale migrations, and the darkening skies that afternoon could stimulate strange behaviors in both man and beast. If total eclipse anecdotes can be believed, birds will screech and then fall silent, cows will head for the barn, and bats will take flight into the false night. In superstitious cultures, pregnant women are hidden to protect the unborn, and wells are covered in fear of poisonous rain. “After this, men can believe anything, expect anything,” wrote the Greek poet Archilochus in the wake of the total eclipse of 647 B.C. “Don’t any of you be surprised in future if land beasts change places with dolphins and go to live in their salty pastures, and get to like the sounding waves of the sea more than the land, while the dolphins prefer the mountains.” Mr. Archilochus, meet Dr. Venkman. As every schoolchild knows, Thoroughbred racing owes its origin story to the total eclipse of April 1, 1724, when the English mare Spilletta gave birth to a colt as the moon obscured the sun over Cranbourne Lodge in Berkshire. The foal was named Eclipse, and Eclipse is not only the common ancestor of about 99 percent of the breed, he is also the inspiration for the awards that celebrate the champions of the North American sport. The total eclipse of 2017 will make U.S. landfall Monday morning about 9 a.m. on the Oregon coast. Marie Jones – who owned or bred Eclipse Award winners Lemhi Gold, Tiffany Lass, Speightstown, and Ashado with her late husband, Aaron – has opened her coastal cottage near the town of Yachats to friends who will be peering through the early clouds for a glimpse of the sun’s corona. Jones lives in Eugene, located about 20 miles south of the 70-mile wide “path of totality.” “From what I hear, the roads will be overwhelmed with cars, and gas will be scarce,” Jones said. “I thought it best to stay home and use my special binoculars to view the eclipse. I’ll never forget the one I experienced as a child in Maine. My mother warned me, in no uncertain terms, ‘Do not look at the sun.’ ” Forest fires in eastern Oregon and Idaho have thrown a wrench into the eclipse viewing plans of both pilgrims and residents. Asked if he was making the trip to his parents’ home in Caldwell, Idaho, just south of the path of totality, Gary Stevens replied, “Hell, no. Mom said the smoke from the fires is so bad she doesn’t think anybody will see it.” Then again, Stevens already has an Eclipse. Onward the eclipse will march, sun and moon locked in their celestial embrace, eastward to Wyoming where Perry and Denise Martin will have a front-row seat from their home in Alpine, hard by the Snake River. Once the shadow passes, neighbors might want to drop by to admire the stack of Eclipse Awards won by the Martins’ benefactor, California Chrome. The duration of the eclipse process lasts well over two hours, while the length of totality – when the sun is fully obscured – varies with viewpoints within the path. For instance, Grand Island, Neb., home of Fonner Park Racetrack, lies smack in the middle of the path of totality. The eclipsing of the sun begins at 11:34 a.m., Central Daylight Time, and will last nearly three hours, including a totality of 2 minutes and 37 seconds. Kentucky Downs, located in the notch of Kentucky that chips into the border of northern Tennessee, is another track in the heart of the path. Its short, rich meet does not start until Sept. 2, but that did not stop track chief Corey Johnsen and Michael Blowen of Old Friends Equine – winner of a Special Eclipse Award – from leveraging the eclipse to their benefit. “We’ll be asking for $10 per car to park and experience the eclipse, and that $10 will be donated to the support of the Old Friends annex here,” Johnsen said. “There will be concessions, viewing glasses, and a chance to meet the horses. And, of course, our Players Club will be open to anyone who would like to take a look.” Among the Old Friends retirees at Kentucky Downs are stakes winners Ball Four, Thornfield, Lusty Latin, and Tour of the Cat, all proud descendents of Eclipse. The eclipse will say goodbye to the United States at Charleston, S.C., a year-round tourist destination that is embracing the phenomenon with commercial vigor, offering events with names like The Blackout Bash, Sip the Eclipse, and a comedy night called “The Dork Side of the Moon.” Then there’s the rest of us, for whom life goes on, eclipse or not. South of giddy Charleston, at Rose Hill Plantation near Hilton Head, retired Hall of Fame jockey Eddie Maple is concerned with more practical matters as manager of the development’s equestrian center. “Do we put the horses in the barn?” Maple wondered. “Are you not supposed to let them look up? I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out.”