Everything appears normal, exactly as it should be. "Come here Johann," says Ollie and a blond mass of long-haired German Shepherd pads dutifully to his master. Such is Johann's mass that he looks like a Charolais bullock lying there in Ollie's lap, but that incongruity is lost on Lehane as he looks at the trail the dog has left behind him in his search for comfort.

The rug in front of the fireplace has wrinkled up in places under the powerful paws, causing some miniscule bulges.

"See those bubbles. If I tried to walk on them, I could very easily fall flat on my face," Ollie says so matter of factly that the realisation hits home with an almost physical jolt.

Ollie Lehane, 54, appears exactly the same. Deeply tanned, debonair, gregarious, looking at the world and the people in it with a sceptical eye, and yet revelling in its possibilities. The sort of guy who is so easy to warm to. The sort of guy whose style others can only dream of emulating. The sort of guy that this should never have happened to.

Except that's too easy. Motor neurone disease is an ailment that should never happen to anyone and `should' is an even more meaningless word in this context than it usually is. Cruelly haphazard in who it affects, even more cruel is how it leaves the mind and the spirit intact, while concentrating its energies on muscle and sinew. Ollie was diagnosed four months ago. "It comes in various forms of severity," he says before his eyes flash with defiant bravado: "And I've got it 24 carat."

Style. Ollie has it in spades. Always has, but never more so than now. Tomorrow morning, he and his partner, Florence, fly to Paris to watch their horse, Oscar Schindler, take on the best in Europe in the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, the classic race in which the giant Oscar was an unlucky third last year.

A rumpled rug may now be an obstacle at home, but the hustle and bustle of Longchamp will be a conscious pleasure.

"I remember last year, we couldn't get into the parade ring because we had no badges and it was only because a journalist told the fellas at the gate that we owned one of the runners that we were finally left in. "The guy at the gate then said if we still had no badge, and the horse won, he wouldn't leave us in to the winner's enclosure! I tell you, if the horse wins on Sunday, I'll vault over the f***ing rails!" he grins.

Style. There's no other way to describe the battling attitude of a man whose condition has worsened in the last three weeks, but which didn't stop him dominating the Curragh parade ring 14 days ago when Oscar Schindler returned after winning his second Irish St Leger. There's also no other way to describe his graciousness in welcoming what he could so understandably have regarded as a parasitic hack. Johann may have a bark to deter a fleet, but the only bite in his owner is his aggressively-positive attitude towards his illness.

"I have no problem talking about it. It's best to," he says as he remembers the first slight weakness he felt in his left arm last January. "I just thought it was a pulled muscle or a trapped nerve at first, but later I was referred and after a month, I was told I had motor neurone. Up to then, not for one moment did I think it was something serious."

He and Florence agree that the first four weeks were the hardest as they desperately tried to come to terms with the news. A keen sportsman and very handy golfer, it's only comparatively recently that his illness has started to impinge on his lifestyle.

"The last three weeks have been bad. I can't really walk unaided and it's getting more difficult to speak clearly," Ollie says as he draws on a cigarette. The matterof-fact tone with which he says it only helps the pulse quicken to the genuine grandeur of his fight, to the determination of a brave man. A man of the world and a realist but also a man with hope.

"Whether I get a miracle or not, I believe there are miracles out there and I've applied for one. What I'm fighting for now is time so that a cure for this thing might come along. You could say there's more chance of Oscar Schindler winning the Arc, but I might bring up the double yet," he smiles.

In that fight, the importance of positive thinking and morale is hard to overestimate, which means it's hard to overestimate the importance of Oscar Schindler. Ollie admits the second Leger was a great boost, but he had won that before. The Arc provides some unfinished business.

Oscar Schindler was palpably unlucky last year, being baulked early in the race, dropping back to last and then accelerating spectacularly off a slow pace to just fail to catch Pilsudski for second. Afterwards, Cash Asmussen, whose quiet subtlety in the saddle seemingly leaves him permanently open to criticism, was hammered, yet again, for lying too far out of his ground. Therefore, it was a surprise to many to see the Texan reappointed for this year's Arc ride, taking over from Stephen Craine.

That, however, is to ignore the hardheaded business sense with which Lehane built up a successful amusement arcade business which allowed him to semiretire at 50 after starting his working life as a bank clerk in branches as far flung as Abbeyfeale and Cootehill.

In so far as it can, logic must apply in racing as well as in business. The cost of failure and the rewards of victory at this level demand it.

"I spoke to Asmussen about Oscar Schindler as soon as he lost the ride on Helissio. My attitude is when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Cash Asmussen rides around Longchamp everyday and just as in business, you have to go for the best available. My trainer Kevin Prendergast and I discussed it and he agreed that with only one bite at the cherry, we had to do it," Lehane says before rewinding the videotape of last year's Arc to explain why he was one of the few not criticise Asmussen then.

"I have no problem with Cash and at the end of the day, I pay the bills. The easiest thing in the world is to blame jockeys, but I don't think he gave the horse a bad ride last year. "He was drawn 11 of 16 and after a furlong and a half, his race was over after he got baulked and lost his position. What else was he supposed to do having been told to give the horse a chance? What beat him was the lack of pace from Helissio in the lead. Signs on, Helissio and Pilsudski were the first two throughout the race," he concludes.

Once everything is in place, though, the important thing is to enjoy the experience. As befits a man who knows how to enjoy himself, Oscar Schindler has given Lehane many a memorable day at the racecourse.

"I know I talk a lot of business about racing, but a lot of times, I don't end up acting like that. The heart ends up ruling the head. The one thing I do know is that when it was justified, then we celebrated. I can never understand owners who think winning is like picking apples. It's just not that easy and when it happens, you must enjoy yourself," he says.

One occasion when the opportunity didn't present itself was when Lehane went against his own instincts and allowed Oscar Schindler to be sent for the Melbourne Cup, instead of the Breeders Cup after last year's gallant Arc effort. Now he dismisses the adventure, and the £83,000 it cost him, with: "It was a team effort, but the expedition was badly prepared. We should have been aware that certain facilities weren't available there."

The beauty of tomorrow's expedition is that Oscar's tilt is totally self-financing after his Leger win. Not so beautiful for his owner is the quality of opposition - it is frighteningly stiff, but Oscar looks well worth his place amongst them.

"I know nothing about Peintre Celebre, but you have to respect Helissio, who looks unbeatable in France. If he's allowed dictate from the front, he'll win, but who'll take him on. I'm surprised the Arabs haven't put in a pacemaker for Swain who, on last year's form, is more or less level with us and Pilsudski.

"Having said that, our horse has genuinely never been better. He did a piece of work on Tuesday that was his best ever. Cash thinks he'll win this time - if he's the same horse as last year - and my trainer thinks he's even better than that. If we get a bit of rain and are drawn 1 to 6, then it will come as no surprise to me if he wins. Maybe that's just romancing, but I do believe that," he concludes.

And belief is the strongest weapon in Ollie Lehane's armoury right now. Belief and hope, both of which are obvious in his excited eyes and defiant set of the head. He knows what he can expect on Monday and what he can do about it, but for tomorrow, Ollie's priority is his horse.

"It would be such a boost if he won. It would be absolutely incredible. If he does, I might try running down the track myself," he smiles.

Something to look forward to. Ollie will be following the tracks of a brave racehorse, but those tracks will only be embellished by the presence of an even-braver man.