For the Love of Horses

I can’t quite recall from where my love of horses sprang. Perhaps it is from Anna Sewell's Black Beauty. The beloved Black Beauty was a hero with a voice of his own. Remember those horrible days pulling the carriage through London? Remember being sold from one bad owner to the next. I think this book more than any other made me believe that horses are part human. A way of thinking that I have to remember to shake off from time to time to help understand my horses better.

Perhaps my love came from some other source for I distinctly remember spending an exorbant amount of time drawing horses. Large sheets of paper were filled with pencil drawings of flowing manes and tails. Hooves slashed the air and powerful necks arched seemingly anxious to escape their paper traps.

Great joy was found the day I visited my best friends house to find my horse drawings plastering her walls with “drawn by My Best Friend” next to it. Sadly a year later she and her family packed their bags and moved to Minnesota. That, in itself, was difficult to deal with. Imagine my jealousy when a couple years later my dear pen pal wrote to say they were moving again to a ranch! With horses! By now I had made new friends, but still thought of her often, and I was certain she had easily made new friends and their new friendships were sealed on the backs of the horses they rode.

I remember dreaming, praying and yearning for a horse. If I had a horse perhaps I could ride away from my pesky brothers. A horse would listen to my secrets while I spent hours brushing and braiding his mane and tail. Shortly after begging my parents for a horse, I got a cat, and a wonderful cat he was at that!! After much consideration he was adorned with the name Ebenezer Snicklefritz. With the attainment of a cat, reality sunk in that while I was living at home, a horse would not be possible. My father had too many bad memories of mean spirited draft horses. Surprisingly his is not the only memory of mean draft horses, so I am sure there is more than one middle aged woman who was refused a horse as a child due to drafts.

My life continued on with high school, college and work. Eventually I met and married The Man. During this time I came to realize that farm life would more than likely be where I was happiest. I remember helping chase sheep at a friend’s house (and loving it). I also remember one of the first times I visited The Man’s farm being sent outside to help get the bull up and away from the building. This I have often wondered about. When it comes down to it, I think he was having a laugh at my expense. I completely trusted that he would not send me on a dangerous mission and I eagerly high tailed it out the back door and tugged on the 2000 lb animal to convince him to stand up. Once we had married and moved to The Man’s hometown my love of animals grew to include the bovine species. It was from these gentle giants that I learned to farm.

It didn't matter if the chore was rounding up the cattle, cleaning the barn or making fences, I was in love again with the rural life. Calving to this day is still the most exciting part of my year. I eagerly await the arrival of our first calves and will spend hours outside in mid March with a bred heifer while she experiences her first labor and transition into cow-dom.

About 6 years into our marriage a neighbor lady who heard of my love of horses suggested that perhaps I would be interested in her old Arabian Yugo. Yugo was a patient old gelding that her two children had out grown. After little convincing she brought him over one fine fall day. He quickly settled into our cow farm and seemed to actually enjoy the cattle. Yugo would follow them around the field for companionship, but always stayed far enough away to not seem too entwined in their lifestyle. A year or so later N started riding lessons with a lady a couple miles away.

As the years have progressed and horses have come in and out of our lives a few have been stamped on my heart as special. Yugo, of course, as he was the first. He was also SO patient with me. Many were the times I would put on his bridle only to find it was in his eye. Or other times I would cinch up his saddle to find the stirrup stuck in the strap on the other side. Through it all he remained patient and steadfast. He taught both of my daughters to ride and love horses.

Kelzon is another horse that will always stay in my heart. He snuck his way in though, when I wasn’t paying attention. “Angry Old Man” became an endearment over the years. He hated being brushed, and he hated being caught. One day I spent about half an hour trying to convince him to let me catch him. The other horses were loaded and time was ticking away on the clock. We were off to another horse show, but Kelzon was distinctly telling me NOT TODAY. After trying to convince him with a can of oats that he really was not trying to catch him, I threw the can at him and yelled “You *in horse!” only to turn around and see the neighbor boy standing in the corral waiting to work with his fair steer. His comment? “Wow, I didn’t know Mrs. C knew words like that!” Thus was our Kelzon, never wanting to be caught, but once caught he would go above and beyond for our children. He went from taking top of the classes he entered one year to taking the bottom the next year. Why? Because he adjusted himself to my daughter, she needed to go slower, so HE went slower. As he was suffering his final day here with us I took some comfort that my voice was able to calm his pain for a while. As he left us my final actions were a kiss on the nose and a thank you for his service. A hug would have only made him angry, after all – he wasn’t that type of horse.

The latest horse to enter my heart is Gunner. Gunner’s life perhaps started out not as blessed as some. He was a PMU baby. The ranch where he hails from tries to raise quality Quarter Horses while collecting urine from their impregnated mares to use in medicines. We obtained Gunner from a young girl who I suspect found him too much to ride. That fall N rode him on trails and at the trainers and they seemed to be getting along fine. When spring rolled around the trouble began. Gunner was extremely sensitive in his back. After we took him to the trainers as scheduled she noticed he was “off” in his right rear leg. After some blood work and testing Gunner was found to have contracted EPM. After some tears and debate we decided to treat him for the disease. It has now been a year and a half since we treated him and he has definitely become my baby. While he seems to have recovered from the disease, he is still weak in his rear leg. His sensitivity to things could also be a side effect of the disease. I began working with him last summer and he and I developed a tentative trust of each other. On the ground he is the in your pocket horse that is all lovey dovey. The catch is you need to be in familiar surroundings. Step outside of his world and he becomes a big baby. This year we will continue to work on his strength in the hopes he will become the horse we bought him to be. If he doesn’t develop into that horse, he will continue to be my baby.

The good news is he definitely has the ability to learn as you can see from the picture at top he has learned to give me hugs. He has also learned to teach. He has taught me that he will only give me a hug if I give him a peppermint!

So now, as I had always dreamed I have my horse. In fact I am blessed to have horsES! It is my sincere hope that they will continue to bless my life as long as I am allowed to be here.