Rain, rain GO AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!

In the words of Scarlett O'Hara, "As God is my witness, my next place WILL have an indoor arena!!"

So the blog has once again gone dormant. Really I am so sick of rain. A friend of mine told me the farmers around here have to get corn in before Memorial Day or they can forget it. One things for sure, they'll have a real nice wheat crop this year!

I'm at the point now, that when the weather is good Dino must work. As of this writing, we have just over 4-weeks until our first show. I was really hoping to go Training Level, so that we can canter, but our canter needs a ton of work. I don't know, I guess if I really want to show we'll have to do Intro. Not like there aren't other shows happening this summer, pretty much every weekend until early October there's a show somewhere. What's so important here, this show is being held where my trainer is based. Its familiar territory and I believe a good experience for Dino.

All in all, Dino is good. Great in fact. His grouchiness has faded for the most part and he's a fairly agreeably fellow. I'm really not sure what the deal is...I have added a bit of alfalfa to his diet, so maybe that helps with his tummy. I have noticed when he's in work, his stall walking is not as bad and he doesn't touch his manure. Hopefully when this bit of rain passes, we'll have good enough weather again to start back to work.

A sad bit of news, as my last entry had to do with her, I had the vet out last week to pull a coggins on Dino and check Angel. What is typical in a lot of older horses, they sometimes don't handle winter very well, especially the hard keepers. Unfortunately for us, we had an unusually long and hard winter. It was very cold and we got a ton of snow. Back in October, I changed Angel's grain to a grain with a low starch and sugar concentrate, foolishly thinking her metabolism had slowed down enough that she could maintain weight and receive enough nutrients on hay and this grain alone. I was feeding her the recommended amount and supplementing it with oats, she started to loose weight. Then she started to go off her hay, she would eat what she wanted and scatter the rest in her stall. We got to the point of letting Angel go through the hay and whatever bale she started eating was the one we'd feed her. We had a 80% success rate. So then we called my old hay guy who deals strictly with alfalfa hay and got a few bales. She ate and ate all of it! When we mixed in the alfalfa with the timothy, she not so neatly sorted it and ate the alfalfa, so clearly there was something about the old hay she didn't like. But she still wasn't gaining weight, so I switched her back to her old grain and added a fat supplement to her feed. She started to gain weight, but not enough and seemed to hit a plateau.

This has been going on long enough and I needed some answers, but I didn't want the answer I was about to get. My vet has diagnosed Angel with a heart condition, specifically aortic regurgitation and he has assured me that Angel is NOT in any pain. There are no signs of immediate cardiac failure, but we don't have a time frame. As for my options, I really don't have many options outside of blood work & a possible echo. I have to be realistic, she's an older horse with soundness issues. It breaks my heart that I have to look at this from a financial standpoint, I love this girl so much, but I have to do what is right by her and still consider my other two horses. Currently she's developing edema's on the bottom of her belly, she's not maintaining weight, with any exercise she does cough, but (good news) there is NO fever. Right now we are taking it one day at a time.

Dino and Angel, September 14, 2010.

14-years....and counting!

Angel has never lost her inquisitive nature.

It was Spring 1997. I had graduated high school early and my days were filled with horses and riding. I'd been horseless for about 8-months, my junior career was over and it was time to move on, so I was back to catching rides on whatever came along. I had thought I had found a nice Hanoverian gelding the previous winter, but his owner's were firm in the price, which was too much, and my trainer said, "We'll find you something, just have patience..."

On March 24, 1997, a truck load of horses arrived from South Carolina. I remember the date because (one) they were a week late, one of the horses was a steeplechaser and his owner wanted one more race, and (two) this steeplechaser was renamed Oscar with the show name Academy Award - it was the night of the Oscars when they did finally arrive.

I knew one of the six horses on the van was for me, but I wasn't sure which one yet. I was secretly hoping it was Harley. He was this big bay gelding, just built like a hog and he had the most enduring personality. Every opportunity I got, I was taking care of him. After more than a month had passed, all but three horses were spoken for: Harley, Andrea and Aaron. Andrea was a young-green-grade filly. You couldn't tack her up in the cross-ties, you tacked her up in the arena, you had to lunge her before you rode, and you had to make a moving mount-up. Otherwise this filly would EXPLODE and she had a buck on her that no one stayed on! Aaron was a BIG imposing mare, very curious and inquisitive. She had the most amazing eyes and this beautiful dished face. I would hang on the fence and watch other riders school her, her jump was always flawless. I saw her take a 5' vertical with a foot to spare and it never mattered the size of the jump, her jump was always the same. She would boldly gallop to the base of the jump, spring up catlike with her knees to her nose and crack her back over the jump. She was just so round, not too many riders were able to stay with her. One day, during a home show, I was asked to turn her out in one of the back grass paddocks. I couldn't get over her size and how attentive she was, I was definitely smitten.

A few days after the home show, head trainer, Polly, told me to go get Andrea and my friend, Katie, to go get Aaron and be ready to ride in the outdoor. We were both probably nervous, I knew Andrea's reputation and by this time she had earned the nickname 'Bucking' Andrea. Katie was a good rider, so I can't imagine what she'd have to worry about. But then out of the blue, Polly came by and stood watching us get ready. She announced that she had changed her mind, I was to ride Aaron and Katie was to ride Andrea. "Whew," I thought, but then I remembered how bold Aaron was and her concussion forming jump. I was not going to win that day.

Katie and I joined the next lesson, and at the end of the hour Polly came out to check on us. I'll never forget what she said, "That one [Aaron] will like Kelly's soft hands, they'll be good together." I was ecstatic!! The date was April 28, 1997.

I had my new horse and now it was time for a new name, we had been calling her 'Aaron' because she came from Grand Prix rider Aaron Vale's farm in South Carolina. (Similarly, 'Andrea' was named for Aaron's business partner, Andrea King.) I was NOT going to call her a 'boy's' name, so at first I thought Sasha because she was so sassy over fences. I was also a big fan of Fox's Kindred: The Embraced, where one of the characters, a red-head, was named Sasha. However, the name just didn't feel right and instead I just kept calling her 'Mare'. Just a few days after I got 'Mare', I had a particularly bad jumping lesson, "It's like learning how to jump all over again....", I cried. Then it hit me, I learned how to jump on an old American Quarter Horse buckskin, named Angel (see below), and so 'Aaron' who became 'Mare' was officially christened...Angel.

Angel, an American Quarter Horse mare.

It wasn't long before Angel lived up to her new name. We were always short on taller-bigger horses in the lesson program, so I had agreed to Angel being used from time to time for the adult riders. I was not at the ring to witness this, but from what I was told, they were jumping a line of combinations and the rider became off-balance. So Angel stopped, but in doing so, somehow, got her reins caught on the jump standard pulling the jump onto herself. Angel didn't freak out, bolt, spook, panic, etc., she just stood there like a statue while my trainer walked up and untangled her. After the lesson my trainer, Beth, came up to me all smiles telling me what had happened.

This trademark in her personality has continued over the years. There was the time we were hauling to a show and her foot mysteriously became wedged under the manger in the trailer. We had to use a sledgehammer to get her free, and she didn't freak out. When people go to horse shows, they typically stay away from the loud speakers. They crackle, hiss, are loud, and basically they spook a lot of horses, not Angel; we could park right underneath one and they never bothered her. Best part was, no one else was ever parked next to us! Another time was when I had my accident, no one saw me fall and Angel got me help. A few months after my accident, I was getting on Angel bareback when I over-estimated my strength and actually leaped over her back. Instead of my falling to the ground, I had my hand still on the reins, Angel pulled back sharply keeping me upright and then lowered her head so that her head caught me in the chest.

If I hadn't decided on the name 'Angel', I think Cat would have been just as good. In all my life with horses, I have never seen such an accident prone animal...and one that has lived to tell about, too!

1. She tore her left front tendon.
2. She had a reaction to a bad rhino flu shot.
3. Said reaction^^ caused her to founder so badly she seedy toed.
4. She fell through an ice covered pond.
5. She fell into a 6' ditch, with me on her!
6. She got loose once and caught in a rope - major rope burn.
7. She slipped on ice and broke her knees open.
8. She jumped the pasture fence, landed on asphalt and re-broke open her knees.
9. She got her foot stuck under the manger on the way to a horse show.
10. She's colicked twice.
11. Has been cast once in her stall,
12. While rehabbing her took her swimming; she reared up and cracked her head on the ceiling.
13. Another time while backing out the horse trailer she slipped and cracked her head again.
14. Got stung in the eye and nearly lost said eye.
15. Accidentally stepped on her lead rope, reared up and slipped on the grass injuring her sacroiliac joint in her back. (Which has ended her career and almost her life.)

Angel doesn't let those little things bother her too much. She still gets free-range when turned out, we seriously don't pasture her just turn her loose in the yard. She rarely leaves the property and comes galloping when called. Recently she was up by the side of the garage and I called her to the back, she turned picked up a canter and jumped the corner of the back patio, a good six feet wide corner. But she didn't miss a stride, she was simply in her glory. When she was younger and I would leave the jumps up in the pasture, it was not uncommon to see her out there jumping on her own -- completely freestyle. People can say racehorses don't love to run or are not born to run, but I disagree. All you have to do is watch Angel jump something and you know that she truly loves it, so why can't racehorses love running?

Angel freestyle jumping.

One of the things I always considered myself lucky was, you couldn't tell when Angel was in season, as in ovulating. I've heard stories and I've witnessed mares that are purely witchy when in season. All they care about is not what you want them to care about and because they don't pay attention to the handler they are easily spooked and can kick out or bite. Under-saddle, I've heard its not even worth your time trying to ride them, you just can't gain their attention long enough to get any work done. Angel was never a moody mare in the sense of being nasty to ride, she was all business all the time. I just couldn't go changing my mind on distances or expecting her to carry me if we chipped in while jumping. In fact, to this day, the only way you know when she's in season is by her frequent 'potty' breaks.

On the ground was a different matter, as I've said before, Angel is truly an independent horse and has little use for humans or Dino and Sancho for that matter. She's still not moody, just a tough cookie and she truly has mellowed with age. Except when it come to blanketing. She will still nail you (or me, in this case) if you mess with her blanket. The last time my farrier was out he touched Angel's blanket up by the withers. Immediately Angel's eyes narrowed and her ears went flat back. Don't know what it is, but I think everytime she has bitten me it was over blanketing.

Even with all those injuries, freak accidents, and personality quirks, I look at Angel now and remember all the good times, 14-years worth. We know each other better than anyone, there are no secrets between us - just raw thoughts, emotions with no self interest; its a pure relationship. I look at her now and I still see this beautiful-amazing creature. This creature that is so smart, sometimes too smart for her own good, you show her something once and she'll do it herself the first chance she gets. What I don't see is this broken down animal, which is the reality. I remember in her 'glory' days she was so big that she wore an 80/82" blanket, and now her in twilight years she wears a 75". Her girth was a 52" and now she could probably wear a 48". I have to constantly remind myself now that I can no longer live in the past and rehash what was, instead I have to live in the present and cherish what time I have left with my Angel. And really, isn't that what's all about? Always being in the present and appreciative of what you have?

Angel and I enjoying some quality time.

As for 'Andrea', my friend, Katie, leased her for that summer and gave her the show name: Russian Roulette. Horse-people really do have a sick twisted sense of humor, don't they? When Angel was out for an injury and Katie had gone home for a few days, it was I who got to keep Andrea in work. As I had already mentioned, she had a buck no one could stay on....well that's not exactly true. She never got me off, she tried though, boy did she try, but I stayed on and I was the only rider to have ever done so.

Ahhh, to be young and stupid again, with a touch of stickability. :P

Someone is NOT going to make it through winter, probably me

FOR SALE: 23-year-old spirited (read: PSYCHOTIC) Paso Fino gelding. Has performance record, neck reins, jumps, goes 2nd/3rd level dressage, crosses water - quickly if you don't want to get wet, and is road safe - even knows his way home! Can be a the nervous type; especially if you ask him think.

Last Saturday morning I had the scare of my life, and nearly a heart attack! I turned horses out while I was doing stalls and getting their breakfast ready. Fast forward 30-minutes and I go to bring them in, I open the side door and come face-to-face with a wide open pasture gate, "On no!", I thought.

I turn around just in time to see Sancho galloping across the backyard, afraid another horse would come barreling around the corner I approached with trepidation and peered around. I could see Angel out in a field, digging through snow for grass, and immediately felt a little better that she hadn't joined Sancho in his wild gallop. Then out of the corner of my eye, I see something running down the road, "OH NO, DINO!!" With my heart simultaneously in my throat and my stomach I started to walk across the barn drive to retrieve Angel when I notice Dino was really next to her, hidden from view by the trailer, out in the field digging through snow for grass. "Oh, thank you Lord," I thought and probably even said out loud.

I was now in a conundrum. Do I catch Sancho, who was still running around and risk Angel and Dino joining him. Do I go for Angel, who I would have a 50/50 shot of actually catching, but if she took off Dino would also for sure. Or Dino who has never been loose like this... I stood there contemplating for a few seconds before deciding Dino it was and who had a look on his face that said, "This is too much fun!"

Angel also had a look, "You will never guess what I just showed Dino...oh wait, I bet you can." However, it wasn't Angel's look that concerned me, it was the gleam in her eye. I've seen it many times before, the one that says: "Try me."

I adverted my eyes and calmly walked up to Dino, took hold of his halter (thank God I left those on!) and started walking back to the barn, but then I thought better of it and turned around grabbed Angel's halter as well. I could just see in my mind's eye, Angel taking off to join Sancho and setting Dino off in the process. So I had Dino on my right, Angel on my left and Sancho still running around like a damn fool. I immediately thought, "You, I am going to kill."

I get Angel safely back into her (locked) stall and while in Dino's stall Sancho comes FLYING into the barn, making a beeline for his stall. Once inside, he's snorting and shaking and really there is nothing I can do. If I raise my voice to him, he'll just get that much more upset. So I calmly walked over to his stall, removed his halter, closed and LOCKED his stall door.

Sancho is a...peculiar...horse. Not the brightest light bulb and can really test one's patience. I got him when he was 11-years-old and according to his owner transfer papers, I'm his fifth owner. Basically he was changing hands every other year. And I get why. I really-really-REALLY do. I am sometimes amazed that I've held on to him for more than half his life, and at this point I know I'm in for the long haul.

A really long haul. I just need to recite the Rider's Prayer more often, especially the line "Dearest Creator grant me patience..." Maybe even tattoo it on my body.

OR better yet, his body.

Letter to My Horses

(L to R: Angel, Dino, & Sancho. Taken Nov 10, 2009)

Dear Angel, Sancho, and Dino,

Happy New Year! I wish to take a few minutes to get something off my chest. I love you all very much, and I truly cherish your presence in my life. I would never wish to criticize you in any way. However, there are a few trivial details regarding our relationship that I think might bear your consideration.

First of all, I am already aware that horses can run faster than I can. I do not need you to demonstrate that fact each time I come to get you in the pasture. Please remember that I work long and hard to earn the money to keep you in the style to which you have become accustomed. In return, Dino, I think you should at least pretend to be glad to see me, even when I'm carrying a bridle instead of treats.

It should be fairly obvious to you that I am a human being who walks on only two legs. I do not resemble a scratching post, Angel. Do not think that, when you rub your head against me with 1,000+ pounds of force behind it, I believe that it wasn't your intention to send me flying. I am also aware that stomping on my toes while you are pushing me around is nothing but adding injury to insult.

I understand I cannot expect any of you to cover your nose when you sneeze, but it would be appreciated if you did not inhale large amounts of dirt and manure prior to aiming your sneezes at my face and shirt. Also, if you have recently filled your mouth's with water you do not intend to drink, please let it all dribble from your mouth BEFORE you put your head on my shoulder or over my head. In addition, while I know you despise your deworming medication, Angel, my intentions in giving it to you are good, and I really do not think I should be rewarded by having you spit half of it back out onto my shirt.

Sometimes, I get the feeling that Sancho you are confused about the appropriate roles you should play in various situations. One small bit of advice: Your stone-wall imitation, Sancho, should be used when I am mounting and your speed-walker imitation when I suggest that we proceed on our way, not vice-versa. Please also understand that jumping is meant to be a mutual endeavor. By "mutual", I mean that we are supposed to go over the jump together. You were purchased to be a mount, not a catapult.

I know the world is a scary place when your eyes are on the sides of your head, but I did spend a significant amount of money to buy the three of you, and I have every intention of protecting my investment. Therefore, please consider the following when you are choosing the appropriate behavior for a particular situation:

When I put your halter on you, attach one end of a lead rope to the halter, and tie the other end of the lead rope to a post or rail or whatever, I am indicating a desire for you to remain in that locale, Angel. I would also like the halter, lead rope, post, etc., to remain intact. While I admit that things like sudden loud noises can be startling, I do not consider them to be acceptable excuses for repeatedly snapping expensive new lead ropes (or halters or posts) so that you can run madly around the barn area creating havoc in your wake. Such behavior is not conducive to achieving that important goal that I know we both share --- decreasing the number of times the vet comes out to visit you.

By the same token, the barn aisle was not designed for the running of the Kentucky Derby, Dino, and is not meant to serve as a racetrack. Dragging me down the aisle, or across a field for that matter, by leaps and bounds is not how "leading" is supposed to work. Pulling loose and running off is also discouraged (although I admit it does allow you to run faster).

My Dear Sancho, I assure you that blowing pieces of paper do not eat horses. While I realize you are very athletic, I do not need a demonstration of your ability to jump 25 feet sideways from a standing start while swapping ends in midair, nor am I interested in your ability to emulate both a racehorse and a bucking bronco while escaping said piece of paper. Also, if the paper were truly a danger, it would be the height of unkindness to dump me on the ground in front of it as a sacrificial offering to expedite your escape.

Also, when I ask you to cross a small stream, you may safely assume that said stream does not contain crocodiles, sharks, or piranhas, nor will it be likely to drown you. (I have actually seen horses swimming, so I know it can be done.) I expect you to be prepared to comply with the occasional request to wade across some small body of water. Since I would like to be dry when we reach the other side of the stream, deciding to roll when we're halfway across is not encouraged behavior.

I give you my solemn oath, Angel, that the trailer is nothing but an alternate means of transportation for distances too long for walking. It is not a lion's den or a dragon's maw, nor will it magically transform into such. It is made for horses, and I promise you that you will indeed fit into your assigned space. Please also bear in mind that I generally operate on a schedule, and wherever we're going, I would really like to get there today.

For the last time, I do not intend to abandon any of you to a barren, friendless existence. If I put you in a turn-out pen, I promise that no predators will eat you, and I will come back in due time to return you to your stall. It is not necessary to run in circles, whinny pathetically, threaten to jump the fence, or paw at the gate. Neither your stable mates nor I will have left the premises. The other horses standing peacefully in adjacent pens amply demonstrate that it is possible to enjoy being turned out for exercise.

In order to reassure you, my dear horses, I have posted the following message on your stall doors:

"Notice to People Who Complain About My Horses"

1. I like my horses a lot better than I like people who complain about them.
2. To you, they're an animal; to me, they are a big, hairy, four-legged child --- and you know what they say about coming between a mother and her children.
3. Their stalls are their castle, and you are expected to treat them as the royalty they think they are.
4. If you don't want them to steal your carrots, don't walk by them with the carrots sticking out of your pockets.
5. Horses are better than husbands or kids. They eat grass, don't smoke or drink, don't expect an allowance, don't voluntarily get their body parts pierced, don't hog the remote, don't waste the whole weekend watching football with their friends, don't talk back to you, don't compare you unfavorably with their friends' owners, don't keep you awake with their snoring --- and no horse ever left the toilet seat up after going to the bathroom.
   

Finally, in closing, my strong and gentle companions, I would like to point out that, whatever might happen between horses and their people, we humans will always love you. In fact, our bonds with you help create new bonds among ourselves, even with total strangers. Wherever there are horses, there will be "horse people," and for the blessings you bestow upon us, I thank you.

Sincerely,
Your "Human"

(Footnote: this is a modified version of an email that was passed around a year or two ago. I am unaware of who the original author is, but who ever did, Thank You.)

Our vet drives a porsche. See horse for details.

(This little ditty is available from Back in the Saddle.)

I feel like I should own this (or own up to it) and display it proudly on my front door step.

Angel is quite frankly the most accident prone animal that has ever lived...and lived to tell about it, too! I've had her nearly 13 years and this is just a sampling of what she's done:

1. She tore her left front tendon.
2. She had a reaction to a bad rhino flu shot.
3. Said reaction^^ caused her to founder so badly she seedy toed.
4. She fell through an ice covered pond.
5. She fell into a ditch, with me on her!
6. She got loose once and caught in a rope - major rope burn.
7. She slipped on ice and broke her knees open.
8. She jumped the pasture fence, landed on asphalt and re-broke open her knees.
9. She got her foot stuck under the manger (the wall at the front of a horse trailer), on the way to a horse show.
10. She's colicked twice.
11. Been cast once in her stall.
12. At one point while rehabbing took her swimming, she reared up and cracked her head on the ceiling.
13. Another time while backing out the horse trailer she slipped and cracked her head again.
14. Got stung in the eye and nearly lost said eye.
15. Last March she suffered a sacroiliac injury to her back, which has promptly put her into full retirement.

Who does these things? I've had Sancho for 10+ years and I can only think of the one time when he needed the vet.

Angel's most recent vet emergency occurred on July 14, 2009. I had gone down to the barn to feed at 7:30AM and who meets me at the barn door? Angel. Let me say, my heart went straight to my stomach. Apparently she had been out all night and ate a 60# bale of hay and 25#'s of grain. Immediately I called the vet and of course they don't start answering their phones until 8am, and I knew I couldn't waste a second so I called Lee, my neighbor.

"Hi, quick question, if a horse is possibly foundering, you want to hose their feet with cold water, right?" (I honestly couldn't remember if that was true or a myth. I had started to prior to calling Lee and got to thinking if it was a myth, I could be doing permanent damage.)

"Well they say the best thing to do is stand them in a stream or in deep wet mud that covers their hooves. Why?"
.
.
.
Before I could do anything, my vet called me back and told me to have Angel stand in a tub of water and add ice if I could. Dr H made it out around 11:30, checked her feet (cool), checked for a digital pulse (none), checked her heart rate (normal if not below normal), and checked her hind gut (good). He then had me put her back in her stall while he put her under so that he could pass a 5' hose through her nose and into her stomach where he then pumped her full of mineral oil. And putting her under did nothing to stop her from throwing a full on hissy fit. Typical, just let me say, TYPICAL. Even Dr H had to look at me and say, "Are you serious?" I just apologized - profusely. Nothing liked being slammed into walls and dragged around a stall by a drugged up, pissed off Thoroughbred mare. You would even think that acting out so strongly would take energy away from her and make her more relaxed and sleepy. Nope.

Since July Angel's been good (*knock on wood*). She doesn't kick her stall walls nearly as much as she used to, actually I think her arthritis makes it too difficult and painful for her. While I hate to see her stiff and sore, I am grateful for the peace and quiet that has fallen over my barn.

My only problem lies in her sacroiliac injury (SI). There are days that she gets around great and appears to be 100% sound, and there are other days that she hurts so bad she won't come out of her stall. I worry that the day will come where she'll lie down and won't be able to get up...I have visions of putting her down in her stall and then wrapping chains around her legs so the tractor can drag her to her grave. I fear one day she'll have another bout of ataxia, and this time she'll get hurt or maybe hurt someone else. And I worry that I'm being selfish in keeping her around, that it would be best - kinder - too just put her down and be done with it. I then find myself looking for signs from her that it has all become too much, she doesn't have any more fight in her and she's ready. Yet when I look in her eyes, they are bright and inquisitive, full of life. At feedings she eats everything up and she always looks for more. But I still wonder, who am I keeping her around for?

I had made a promise to myself originally: that if Angel was not better by the end of October, then I would put her down before winter and the ground froze. But I reneged, telling myself she was getting better, putting on weight even. I then made myself a new promise: I'll put her down when we move next year, at the new farm. This way she won't be left behind and I'll plant a Honeycrisp apple tree over her - my favorite type of apple for my favorite horse. Knowing myself, I'll probably find another reason on why she shouldn't be put down then, too.

To be perfectly honest, I want the easy way out: for her to go to sleep, under a beautiful tree, and feel no pain or fear. The reality is much harsher.

Putting a horse down is not like putting a dog, cat or any other animal down. There is no stainless steel table they lie on while getting the injection, held tightly by their owners. There is no slowing of respiration and heartbeat, no general ceasing of life. Instead its violent. The first shot is of phenytoin, to help control seizures. The second is a lethal dose of pentobarbital. Death is quick, within 30seconds, and again violent. The horse doesn't lie down and quietly go to sleep. No. Instead they drop to your feet, sometimes rearing up before collapsing, and convulsing before going rigid. One moment your standing at your horse's head, holding their lead rope while lovingly stroking their face as you tell them how much you love them. The next thing you know is they've dropped with enough force to shake the ground and the only thing you've still got is that lousy lead rope in your hands.

I don't care what anyone says, if you've never owned a horse you don't know what this is like. And I've owned dogs, cats, guinea pigs, and fish; it's not the same pain as losing a horse. I don't want to go through this with Angel, but I know I have to be there for her, in her last moments, as she has always been for me.

My Story

I started riding in 1980, my Uncle John had a pony for my cousins and I was always hoisted up onto Star's back. The story is that I was literally bitten by the horse bug, as in one day Star bit me and I giggled.












Fast-forward four years and I'm watching the 1984 Summer Olympics from Los Angles. After watching Abdullah and Conrad Homfeld help the United States capture our first gold in showjumping, I turned to my Dad and said, "THAT'S what I want to do..." It had simply amazed me that horses and people could work together and defy the odds and obtain such gratification. Within a month my Dad signed me up for professional riding lessons at Fox Meadow Farm in Temperance, Michigan. I remained there for nearly 15-years riding and showing Hunter/Jumpers. (As a side note, from March 1991 to June 1991 I did take additional lessons in Classical Dressage with John Kneeper. In August 2007, I returned to Dressage and it has remained my discipline of choice.)

Sometime around 1987 I got my first Thoroughbred, Ears, whom my parents leased him for me as a Children's Hunter mount. I loved Ears, absolutely LOVED him and every memory I have of him is precious to me, and I firmly believe it is because of my connection with Ears that has led me to my life long love of Thoroughbreds. After Ears there were plenty of other Thoroughbreds: Mickey, Odie, Dusty, Brownie, Romero, Lyndie, Phantom, Mocha, etc. Every single one of them had been an off the track Thoroughbred (OTTB).

Now this is not to say I never rode any other breed of horse, I rode my fair share of Quarter Horses, Paints, various crosses and some European Warmbloods. It is my opinion that there is nothing nicer than a well-bred and well-trained Hanoverian, a true powerhouse over fences. Next to Thoroughbreds, I absolutely love Paso Fino horses. Talk about a fun and versatile breed!

After Fox Meadow Farm, I worked for more than a year on a Paso Fino breeding farm handling stallions and riding. I then moved on to a Standardbred racing stable where I cared for 13 actively racing horses, I was there less than a year before returning to my roots and working for another Hunter/Jumper barn.













Currently I own a 19-year-old Thoroughbred mare named Angel. I got her in April of 1997 while at Fox Meadow Farm from Grand Prix rider Aaron Vale. If Angel were a cat she would have exceeded her nine lives years ago...but that's a totally different entry. So I'll just add that in March of this year, she had a freak accident that led to a sacroiliac injury (where her spine and pelvis meet) which resulted in severe ataxia (she couldn't stand up unassisted). Eight months have now passed and she has good days and bad days, and I am in a constant battle of whether or not I should just put her down. In good conscious I cannot. She maintains (has gained even) weight, is bright eyed and shows a great deal of interest in her surroundings. Until those things change, I will keep her around.













I also own a 22-year-old Paso Fino gelding, Sancho - or Señor Sancho. He's my boi. I got him in June of 1999 from a lady in Texas, actually he survived a trailer accident and wasn't really thought to heal beyond being a pasture ornament so I got him for next to nothing. His life before me had him as a show horse, a breeding stallion, and a trail mount. With me he has continued to be a show and trail horse, a parade mount, and he has also dabbled in dressage - he schools 2nd and 3rd level movements. For the last two years, we have been selected to Ride with the Best at Equine Affaire in Columbus, Ohio.

Given the advanced ages of my horses, I started to casually look for a new mount two years ago. After Angel's accident in March I started to take my search more serious. By October I had looked at five or so horses as prospects, but each time I had dragged my feet and lost out. I just didn't feel any spark that made me think, "THIS is the one...", and knew in my heart that when I found the one I would instinctively know.

And then I made a casual trip to Kentucky that would change everything.