Author: Kelly Hurd (Page 1 of 2)

Spirit and Jackie Carroll

Spirit was 5 months old approx when he came with his mother and 133 other horses from the Navajo reservation.  They travelled in cattle trucks to Hennessey OK, where he and the others were put on scrub land and allowed to fend for themselves.

Out of the 135 horses 35 died, including Spirit’s mother.  We found him just barely hanging on still attached to her udder and the vet said that she had been dead about 2 weeks.  This was in November of 2002.

He and 6 other horses were taken to a vet’s farm and the others went to a deputy sherrif’s land near Hinton.

I helped take care of the ones at the vet when he and the others were taken there.  To begin with he wanted to kill any human that came anywhere close to him, can’t blame him.  He was terrified of nylon jackets, so I gave him one and he tore it into little pieces.  It took a lot of patience and trust from both of us to let me get close enough to him to let him know I was not going to hurt him intentionally.  He was gelded on the farm and had all his shots.

About a year later Spirit and I became family.  I moved him to a place that I rented, and within 3 days Spirit had laminits which inevitably went to full founder of both his front feet.  The vet and I went through all the normal things, was it the feed?  No.  Was it the hay?  No.  Eventually after talking to different vets and schools we found out that Spirit founders on STRESS.  He lived in this place with 3 friends a paint mini horse, a female donkey who took care of the mini and a son of one of the starving horses.

During this time Spirit, being Spirit colicked 3 times.  The last time I told him, if he had had enough just to go, I would miss him and understand.  To my horror, he had the unmitigated cheek to stop breathing.  It seemed like hours, but his pasture buddy came and bit him on the bottom, Spirit gasp and stood up just as the vet came in.  Whew!!

We were there for about a year when my Mother died.  I did not know that she and Daddy had put money away for me to have a farm of my own. So we moved.  Spirit, Miss Mable – donkey, Patches – mini, and Denny the other horse.  I was terrified that the move would stress him and the founder would get worse.  He did very well and seemed to be happy in the 40 acres that he could roam around at will.

Spirit is afraid of the dark, so there is a night light in the barn and he is also claustrophobic, so there aren’t any stalls in the barn – it is open and airy.

Once down here, with Spirit still not feeling well, I got rid of Denny as he was too rough, and it was causing problems.  My farrier worked with me weekly padding, trimming and anything else he could come up with to help Spirit.  Eventually I gave up – Spirit didn’t.  He plodded along in pain, not about to give up at all.  So I put my thinking had on and clicked on Barbaro on the internet, found a vet up at Penn State and wrote to him about Spirit.  He emailed me back and told me that we needed xrays for his legs to see what was going on.  Ha!  Now find a vet who will come out and do it in the barn – Spirit couldn’t travel.  Eventually I found one and he came, took the pictures and sent them to Penn State.  The diagnosis was severe founder with some bone loss.  Now the farrier and I had to get Spirit to stand still whilst we drew his feet.  That was a laugh try to get him to stand still on poster board.  The farrier is a quick artist and after a lot of treats and ‘I love you’ to Spirit, he did it.

Now the only thing that could help Spirit was a deep digital flexor tenotomy.  Reading up on it didn’t make me very happy as they kept saying that the horses didn’t last very long.  Talking to the vet, he said that those were very sick horses and this was the last resort.  Luckily Spirit was healthy.  What I didn’t know is that they had only given him a 25% chance to make it – no one told me!

The surgery was done in the barn with both vet and farrier working on his feet, a very sleepy horse got to his feet and the look in his eyes was ‘Wow’  this feels great.  He has come a long way from that surgery 3 years ago.  He has arthritis in his hips from using his back end for support when his front feet hurt so much.  He is on supplements for joint problems and he has days when he hurts.  I nearly lost him this past summer as he cannot tolerate heat.  But my buddy again, would not give up and we worked through it.  The first cool day he was prancing around making up for doing very little in the summer.

Patches died a year ago, he was still a baby and I panicked thinking the stress would start another founder attack.  The big horse took it in his stride.  He still has Miss Mable, and Eyore a mini donkey, Mouse a mini horse and PeeWee a micro mini horse.  So he thinks he is the only big horse in the whole wide world!  He now loves everyone that comes, well almost everyone.  He like the others can never be ridden, they are all rescues with something wrong with them, but he is my friend, my confident, my soul mate and the best buddy one could ask for.

Spirit is 9 years old.  He made it even though the vet didn’t give him much of a chance.  He is as stubborn as his mother and has a mind of his own.  He and his friends have the run of the field and barn, and a small shed which we call the sweat lodge.

Jennifer Maddox & Darlin’ Sportin’ Jenny

First time I saw Jenny, Vickie Ives from Karma Farms was pointing out two horses that she would like me to help her train. The way Jenny looked at me was as if to say, “What are you looking at, punk?!” I smiled and said I wanted to work that one.

I bought Darlin’ Sportin’ Jenny myself when I was 12. My dad made the mistake of calling me randomly one day to tell me that if I raise half the money he will match it. I was training Jenny at the time so I immediately thought of her. I was so determined to own her that I raised $1,250 in six months that dad had to match for a total of $2,500. I would bring bags of pennies even to pay for her. Tommi told me later her mom would take my bags of pennies to the bank, and with a smile and a laugh she would tell the startled bank teller that a child was buying a horse. I remember the day I bought her. My hand shook as I signed my name. I remember wondering if my name written in my cursive looked grown up enough to own a horse. As soon as she was legally mine I dashed out of Vickie’s house, ran down the hill, and threw my arms around a startled three year old mare that was still learning about the love of a twelve year old girl.

She and I have accomplished many titles together. Jenny is a Reserve National Champion and Regional Champion in NATRC with her scores always in the 90’s. It is always funny when a 13.1hh Spanish Mustang passes a bunch of Thoroughbreds and Arabians and they cannot keep up after their riders have talked my little mustang down. Same thing has happened with Quarter Horses in pole bending; she has won me money in Dallas at play days. She has also won many first, especially in pleasure class, in Tejas shows, including Adult Champion with me. She is now even a Dam of Champions in HOA when her foal, Chimaira, won halter champion in her age group at the AIHR/HOA National Show. However, I think our greatest accomplishments are the times when she has touched others’ lives.

Jenny and I volunteered at Great Results Equine Assisted Therapy Center for two years. We daily helped mentally and physically handicapped students cope with their disabilities. Jenny is a very hyper horse that I normally would not let children ride but she changes for the handicapped. She adapts for each person. She seems to understand her job and takes it very seriously. Jenny demands to nuzzle each child when they mount up. If they are in a wheelchair she places her face in their lap. The two students I will never forget are Ben and Dylan. Ben is a little boy that says very little and has cerebral palsy and autism. His chances of walking like an average child were slim. After a month of having him ride Jenny I did not show up to the therapy center for two weeks due to school. When I came back I saw a wonderful sight. As I walked Jenny out of her stall Ben saw her and did not walk to her, but ran. His mother couldn’t even keep up! He stopped a few feet from Jenny. She reached out and nuzzled his cheek while he smiled. Dylan was a little eight year old boy with autism too but his was very severe, non-verbal autism. Jenny would prance with Dylan to make him laugh. She loved that boy. When teaching the children to get the horse to move, we tell them to say go! and to tap the horse’s mane. Though he had never spoken a word we had hope. One day he spoke his first word to my little horse. He told her to Go! Everyone nearby started crying tears of joy and I gave Jenny one of the most love-filled hugs I have ever given her. Unfortunately, Jenny has been fired from her job after two years. During my first two months of college I was working two jobs and just did not have the time to go to the center to volunteer. During that time Jenny thought I had abandoned her. She went off her feed, and gradually became depressed and angry. Eventually no one could open her stall door without her charging them. I got the call to come get her. She was very angry at me and the world it seemed. I took her straight to the farm and rode her as fast as she wanted to go and for as long as she wanted to. After that she was her normal self.

I now have her living with me again. She is happy and content. I use her to teach riding lessons. Due to her size compared to me I do not compete her as much as I did before. I have thought of selling her but I do not think I ever will. We are, I guess you can say, kindred spirits. As an early teenager I was going down a dark path and she saved my life. Now we get to work together to help other people change their lives. Because of her I am getting a bachelors in Equine Studies and a Masters in Counseling so I can use horses to counsel abused children and at-risk youth. I hope that when I start my dream career she will be there with me; working together just like we have all these years.

“My Wild Blue Roan” (Even if he did turn out to be a Gray)

By Lona Patton

Near a place they call Adobe Town,

an HMA located in Wyoming.

Nineteen hundred ninety six, was the year at hand

On the 27th day of March

Our herd was happy grazing, out there upon the land.

One cold morning, behind Willow Peak,

Was the day in which they took me,

They found us grazing, by a spring.

Two-legged’s came and caught us

at our home by Willow Creek!

They chased us like a mountain lion

and forced us in a cage.

this cage, they called a corral.

That put us all into a rage!

I saw a bird, flying without wings,

and it made an awful loud roaring sound!

It flew above our heads, there was chaos all around.

I saw two-legs sitting up upon the backs

of my relatives and distant brothers,

they came running up behind us,

with things held in their hands,

yelling things at all of us

that we couldn’t understand!

They chased us with some scary things,

tied onto some long sticks …

They waved and shook them at us,these sticks held in their hands!

They scared us so bad, our hearts did pound!

Our hooves echoed, like the sound of a thousand drums,

beating loudly on the surface

of a cold hard ground!

They closed us in- just as I turned,

to look for a place I could flee,

When suddenly I realized

that my freedom would no longer be, ”

“Oh Lord, my creator…”

“What will become of me!?”

~~~~~~~~~~

He stood within the holding pens,

waiting for a strange new home.

A home he really didn’t want.

He wanted to be free!

I could see the longing in his eyes.

but if he was going to survive, he somehow knew it had to be.

How he longed to be free again

to run wild with his majestic band!

Back with the only family that he has ever known,

to play and run, back in the desert sand.

His heart, how it ache’d, to run wild and free again,

in the back country of Wyoming,

Back to Adobe Town and the Willow Creek

The home that he now misses, and the

Meadowlarks that sing!

He stood there staring back at me …

with big warm, dark eyes that sparkled as the sunlight kissed them gently.

Did I just witness a spark, a glimmer of hope, of growing curiosity?

I watch him now, watching me, I pray for his comfort,

and then I add,

“Dear Lord Above, Please listen to my prayer,

will you help him learn to trust me,

help me show him that I care,

somehow help me to let him know, if you would kindly guide me.

That he could find an honest friend,

if only he’d except me?”

“In return this is my promise, I’ll give him a good home,

I know that he can never be

again wild or free to roam,

I’ll do my best to give him all that I can afford.

The best feed that I can find, a shelter, and good water,

this I promise Lord.

But most of all dear Lord above

I will give to him a home

that’s filled with compassion,

care and lots of love.

~~~~~~~~~~

With gentle hands I’ll try to teach,

the wondrous things you’ve taught me.

Please bless us both with patient, understanding minds.

I know that you will guide me.

“I thank you Lord,

for everything that you have given me.

I ask you now my Dearest Lord

If you’ll help this little mustang

to find a place down deep inside

to give to this two-legged,

a chance to win his heart and trust,

that with me he can confide.

Amen.”

Then softly I begin speak, “Beautiful wild blue roan,

with a crescent moon and a tiny star, kissed by your desert home.

Touched by the sun and Red Desert moon,

So lovely and so beautiful, like a dreamy moonlit dance,

You move about so gracefully, hold up your head and prance.

Would you possibly consider

living at my home?

Although you’re body

may not be free, I’ll let you’re spirit soar …

like an eagle flying high, if you wish for it to be.

I’ll let your spirit be free and wild as it was meant to be.

Wild and beautiful blue roan… Moon Dancer Mine,

would you possibly consider, living at my home with me?

Come join us and become a part of my family.

With a nod and a nicker, his frightened and unsure answer

echoed in the month of May crisp Wyoming air.

Yes he would come home with me!

He needs and wants a family to share.

~~~~~~~~~~

Welcome home my wild one!

Welcome home my friend …

Adopted May 18

1996

Part 2

I’m standing here at my new home

where I will reside,

inside of a corral, with a two-leg also inside.

Should I run or should I stand?

Oh Lord! She touched me with her hand!

I run …

quietly she follows,

I run some more …

yet still she is there,

not really chasing, but following me, slow.

I look for an escape,

Oh my creator, where can I go?

There is nowhere!

Still, I run …

I’m tired of running, she will not go away!

“Blue roan, you can trust me”

I then hear her say.

So I stop, turn and face her

and quietly I stare,

She stops too,

waiting, looking back and standing there.

What does she want?! What should I do?

Then softly she speaks to me…

“Blue roan, I promise not to hurt you”

Within me something stirs,

my mind spins in a whirl!

As I find myself approaching

this two legged girl.

I want to run! But instead, I stand.

She touches me, as she reaches out her hand.

My heart, it jumps and quivers

but still I do not flee.

Her hand is soft and gentle,

somehow it comforts me.

My body, how it quivers..

uncontrolably.

~~~~~~~~~~

She reaches out again,

as she pets down my neck,

I can’t take it, it’s too much!

she is scaring me

with her every touch!

I have to run! I cannot stay!

My fear,

it will not go away.

Once again, she follows me,

quietly and slow,

I run and as I try to flee.

I feel there’s something’s different,

in my mind – I know,

There is now a new feeling

deep inside of me.

Away from her I find myself

feeling more afraid and lonely.

Again I stop and face her,

again, she stops to …

quietly, she waits there.

What am I supposed to do?

Slowly I walk back to her.

She speaks to me

with a kind, soft whisper …

“Everything is going to be O.K.

just wait and you will see.”

She touches my muzzle ever so softly,

then turns…and quietly,

she just walks away.

Then looking back

she says to me …

as she brings to me some hay,

“We’ll finish this, my new friend …

on another day.”

~~~~~~~~~~

He’s at a new home now,

no longer free.

Yet he knew somehow,

this was meant to be.

It was a long and lonely ride home,

Nothing would ever again be the same.

Never again, to be free to roam.

He soon fell asleep…the Great Spirit came,

as a vision in his dream,

saying “chunkwakan, horse …

do not weep. Your new home

will not bring you any shame.”

“Go now, meta’ kola, go now my friend,

My prayers with you I will send.”

“And when you are afraid,

just look up to the sky,

you’ll find me here waiting …

for your spirit to fly.”

“So walk the good trail,

and be not afraid.”

“Your two-leg is gentle, I know she’ll be kind,

If you give her your heart, I think you will find …

she will also give hers, and a true friendship

will start.”

“Akita Ma’niyo… observe all as you go,

If you’ll just trust in her,

somehow this I know…

Keep yourself willing to learn and forgive.

When you open your heart, you begin to live,

Then open your mind …

and soon you will see,

Your spirit is still wild and free.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Good morning my wild blue roan,

I hope you had a good night.

It’s a wonderful day… you won’t be alone,

you’re such a beautiful sight!

Well hello to you too! Your nicker’s so sweet.

I’ve a feeling today…that our two hearts will meet.

I know you are scared,

heck, I am too.

But I think we’ll be friends

before this day is through.

I’m brushing you now,

I hope it feels nice.

I’m sorry you lost your freedom,

I know it was a sacrifice.

But I’m happy you’re here,

now sharing my home…

allowing me to stand so near.

It’s time, I see

to give you a name.

I’ve thought long and hard

on what it should be.

I look at your face and there I do see …

gentle eyes looking right back at me.

For the cresent moon with a tiny star,

as if they were put there

from the heaven afar.

I know now, what your name should be.

Moon Dancer ~ Wacipi Wi

A friend, you are mine, ~ Metawa.

Yes, that’s what it should be …

Moon Dancer Mine,

Metawa Wacipi Wi.

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 3

A few years have gone by

and it wasn’t so bad,

it has proven to be

even a better home then I had.

Though I am no longer wild and free

My spirit is, I still run and play,

But what is even better for me

is she brings me my water, my grain, my hay.

No more do I search for water each day,

across miles of earth …

only to end in dismay,

my water tank is full …

and fresh every day.

For me she has

much love and pride,

my heritage

she does not try to hide.

Although she was told

how crazy I’d be,

she tells the whole world

how much she loves me.

She says I’m a mustang

with pride in her voice,

she could have had any horse,

but picked me, she says,

by her own choice.

She loves me a lot

this much I know,

when it’s cold outside

with three feet of snow,

I no longer shiver

and shake in the cold,

my two-leg she gave me

a warm place I could go.

~~~~~~~~~~

She brushes the mud

and the dirt off his back,

then she scratches him

with just the right knack.

She pets him soft and gentle you see,

as she whispers “Metawa …

you’re still somewhat free,

and I’m so glad you’re here

living with me.”

His spirit’s not broken as some said it would be

his heart is not heavy, it’s as light as can be.

Even though he now lives

in captivity.

Sometimes he misses roaming the land,

running and playing in the Red Desert sand,

drinking cold water from the Willow Creek spring

as he listened to the meadowlarks sing.

Then he remembers the long cold winter months

pawing through the snow, searching for a blade of grass,

as he shivered with cold, and waited for the winter to pass.

He’s now thankful to be living at his new home,

as green grasses he finds in the pasture he roams,

he still listens to the beautiful sound

of the meadowlarks

and the birds that abound.

Then he thanks his creator

our Lord up above,

for his home that is filled

with compassion and love.

He looks up to the sky,

and there he does see …

like the clouds that float by,

his spirit is still wild and free.

~~~~~~~~~~

They said I could never ever break you,

They said I should send you off to be glue.

They never believed

you could be gentle or true,

They could not see what I saw in you.

I am ever so happy now,

with you here with me,

my mustang, my friend, forever to be.

When I walk out my door,

you’re there by the gate

anxiously waiting for me …

without any hate.

You love me too, this much I know,

with all of the gentleness to me that you show.

When I bring out your saddle,

your always there waiting

and ready to go …

to ride by the river in the tall grass,

up in the hills, or in a meadow,

Whenever we travel to a horse show,

You’re willing and able

to give me all that you know,

and when we are done, and ready to leave,

I wear ribbons with pride, pinned to my sleeve.

You’ve won ribbons, and plaques

and awards just for me,

I want to shout…so the whole world can see,

though you were born wild and free …

You’re as gentle and kind

as any horse can be,

if they’d open their heart …

then open their mind,

I know that they would see

what a wonderful horse a mustang can be!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re my beautiful mustang

and my wonderful friend.

I vowed to the Lord

to Him, the credits I’d send.

Thank you Lord for guiding me,

give the best home I could

to Metawa Wacipi Wi

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dedicated and Written for me by my owner … Lona Patton

For all the wild horses roaming free today

and not knowing what tomarrow will bring.

~~~ The End ~~~

Getting to Know the Horses of the AIHR – Unwritten, aka Rhett

by Nanci Falley

If anyone had asked me in the Spring of 2010, what would I wish for if I had three wishes, I would have answered, “World peace, an end to hunger, a decent supply of hay for the year or cheaper feed prices.”  I would not have said, “another horse.” I had horses, all of whom I cherished and they were enough.  I also had donkeys, cats, dogs, chickens, geese, ducks, a pot bellied pig and a peacock, many of whom were rescues.  I definitely did not need nor was I looking for another horse.  At age 71 I was slowing down as far as taking in horses went.  (The term ‘never say never” comes to mind here.)

The AIHR hosts an annual Open House in April each year and in 2010 I was expecting my friends, Vickie Ives and Laura Christensen who were coming for the celebration from east Texas and bringing with them two horses, a 2 year old colt, Jack Sparrow, and Laura’s gelding, Heyoka. Jack Sparrow had been sold to Scott Nelis who was coming to the Open House to pick his colt up.  Vik and Laura arrived around 10 pm on Friday evening with horses in tow.  We unloaded them and put them into adjoining pens.  After that we went to the house for a visit before going to bed.

Rhett’s first night home at Rancho San Francisco. The next morning I got up early and went down to the barn to feed my brood.  There I was met by a very agitated Jack Sparrow who was nickering and pawing at the wall of the barn.  He was intent on getting my attention.  At first I thought he was just hungry, but it was more than that.  He demanded my attention and I could not, would not respond as he was promised to someone else.  So I ignored him and went about my morning chores.

He persisted, banging on the wall and nickering loudly for nearly an hour.  At that time Vik came down to the barn to feed the two horses, and I went over to greet her when she exclaimed, This is not Jack Sparrow! This is Unwritten!  How could this have happened?  True, this colt and Jack Sparrow were similar in age, size and color, but as long time and experienced horse people neither Vik nor her trainer Jerry could understand the “mistake.” When things quieted down after more laughter and exclamations and a call to Scott to tell him not to bring his trailer – they would meet up at a later date for Jack Sparrow’s delivery, I knew I had to talk to Vik.

By this time I had decided that Unwritten had engineered this whole event.  He had gotten himself to exactly where he knew he was destined to be, and that was with me.  No doubt about it, and I had to agree with him so I sat down with Vik and asked her if he could be mine.  Thankfully she was agreeable, and so Unwritten, call name Rhett, found his forever home.  He went back to east Texas for a time so he could have more training and be gelded.  I showed him at the 2010 AIHR National Show and at the 2011 National he really outdid himself by winning his halter class and was Reserve Champion O Indian Horse at Halter.  The amazing Rowdy Yates was Grand Champion O at Halter, so we were in very good company!

I am pleased to say that Rhett is now home with me on my ranch near Lockhart (south of Austin in central Texas) and thriving.  He is one of the sweetest horses I have ever been privileged to have in my life and I am beyond grateful to be his friend and partner.

Here is a poem that he and I wrote together:

He arrived by mistake (or so they said)

He was the wrong colt (or so they said)

But the expressive brown eyes used different words.

No mistake am I (so he said to me)

No mistake the trip across Texas (so he said to me)

I am yours– forever (so he said to me)

Getting to Know the Horses of the AIHR – Wanna Fly

When I met Fly, I knew I loved this horse. Of course I love all horses, but Fly was different. I felt we had something special between us, and I never wanted that to change.

The first time I rode Fly, I immediately noticed his amazingly smooth walk and trot. About a couple months later, I went to my second show, and I rode Fly, and it was his first show. He behaved so well. He never thought of acting a fool, and was perfect. We placed pretty darn good for my second show, and his first! We got 4th, 5th, and 6th, for different competitions.

Then I moved to Northwest Arkansas with my parents, and thought I would never see Fly again. I ended up visiting Texas again on Labor day weekend, and I went on a trail ride, but I didn’t know who I was riding. When we got to Karma Farms, I saw Vickie with a horse that looked like Fly, but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to sound stupid. My mom asked Vickie if it was Fly, and it was! I was so happy. On the trail ride I had a blast and I wish it could have lasted even longer.

After the ride in Texas I came back to Arkansas and started taking lessons in Dressage. After I rode Fly onLabor day weekend, I posted on Facebook about wanting to get a horse of my own. Laura, Fly’s owner, mentioned calling her about Fly. That night I begged my parents to call her. Then they told me to go upstairs and they talked and told me that I was most likely getting Fly.

A month later, we went back to Texas and picked up Fly. I was so happy, and glad it worked out! On the ride home, which was six hours, I made my parents stop and I checked on Fly every forty minutes. When we arrived at the place I took Dressage lessons, and also boarded horses, we took Fly to a paddock and I walked him around and let him graze on the green grass, and let him munch on some hay.

A week later, I started riding Fly at Manuel Farm. After we got a lot of practice and lessons, we went into the arena and rode, and got a break from the round pen. We started trotting and cantering.

After a month of being at Manuel, we went on our first trail ride and we both really enjoyed it. Then we started going on road rides, which was on a quiet dirt road.

Now, about five months later, we have been working hard, and started Dressage in English tack! Even though Fly is a trail horse by trade, he is doing wonderful in Dressage!

I honestly don’t know what I would do without Fly right now, we have taught each other so much, and gone through many things, but have always managed to stay together, and now forever!

Written By: Ashton Smith

SCARLET NATION

My Angel Horse

I raised my Appaloosa mare, Scarlet Nation, from a foal.  She had been born a solid colored filly in a world that only wanted spots.  I got her as a three month old and about the size and color of a large Irish Setter, hence her name.  In her youth she was a sparky devil, spooking and whirling, playing and bucking.  She was never mean about it, just high spirited.  Together, we did trail riding and competitive endurance riding both of which take a lot of time in the saddle.  As she grew and matured we bonded and tested each other daily.

At the time I was active duty Air Force and July 4, 1991 I left to serve in Desert Storm.  I spent over three months as the Chief Dispatcher in Vehicle Operations in Dhahran, Saudi Arabia.  While we were definitely a rear line unit, we supported the brave fighters that lived in the tents and the tanks.  I saw no action except in the vehicle yard and behind my desk.

However, part of my job was to inspect vehicles that came back from the desert.  No one knew what they had been exposed to as we had no way of testing them. Then, of course, there was the oil well smoke that blew in daily from Kuwait in the north.  It came down on us like pea soup.  There were days that the men couldn’t see to drive to do their jobs.  It was insidious, grey, oily and we breathed it constantly.  And the omnipresent desert sand was everywhere.  We drank it in our water, we ate it in our food and we wore it with our clothes.  It got into every crevice and orifice of our bodies.

When I finally returned from Saudi in October of 91, I seemed fine for several months.  Then the following fall, there seemed to be a virus going through the veterans of the conflict.  I was diagnosed in August with pneumonia.  That seemed to be ‘the moment’ my life changed.  Later, I decided to take the early out in the drawdown of 1994. I left the military with a small disability for sinusitis, but I still felt pretty good overall.

This put me back into the civilian work force in my mid forties still making me a viable commodity.   I took a job with a small city as a police dispatcher.  My second year there I was exposed to pepper spray and developed a case of sinus and inner ear problems.  I went to a civilian doctor who asked me how long I’d had asthma.

Needless to say, I was shocked.  I’d always been very healthy and active and had never been diagnosed in the military.  This was new.  I gave him copies of my military health records and he was able to pinpoint its development.  During the last 14 years, I’ve been hospitalized many times with bronchitis, pneumonia, and acute asthma attacks.  Once, I stopped breathing in the ambulance and awoke 28 hours later in the Emergency Room.

When I returned to civilian life I had been looking forward to trail riding and competing in Endurance Racing on Scarlet.  We had done a few rides in the twenty five mile distance category and had begun to finish successfully when the diagnosis was given.  But after a while, the asthma began to take its toll on me.  Needless to say, my health issues wadded up my dreams of competition and threw them in the trash heap.

Through the initial diagnosis and early treatments, I had two different doctors recommend that I sell my horse and get rid of my dogs even though I had not tested allergic to either of them.  They predicted that my animals would make my breathing ailments worse.  Only my primary care physician, a sport medicine specialist, supported me here.  He said that my dogs and my horse were too important to me.  And regarding my horse and my riding, however little I did, she would be my main impetus I would have to stay active.  As far as he was concerned, if I sold my horse, I’d only regret it.   My husband agreed with him.  He said that he knew that Scarlet wasn’t going anywhere, except maybe to an early retirement.

As my physical problems worsened, I went several years where there were days that I could barely drag myself to the barn to feed and care for Scarlet.  We hardly ever rode out on the big trails anymore.  Sometimes, I would just take her for a walk on a lead, some days I could only groom her.  I’d gained a lot of weight due to medications, lost a lot of muscle mass and my balance was gone.  When I did manage to get in the saddle it was to poke around the arena and immediate area.

I also began to notice that Scarlet was changing too.  She was becoming steadier, kinder and had quit all her kittenish tricks.  It was as if she knew that I was not well and she went out of her way to be gentle.  She was always careful of me and easy to ride.  She would stand patiently at the mounting block for as long as it took me and stop whatever we were doing when I had a coughing fit.

One memorable day sticks in my mind.  I hadn’t felt well for several days but it was a fine spring morning and I was bound and determined to get out into the sunshine.  I saddled Scarlet and we took off at a quiet walk down the local trail towards a park area.  As we traveled, a large dog appeared on the way and began to try to chase us.  He’d bark and run at her legs and even tried to nip her.

I was upset and scared that she would spook and bolt away from him.  I was afraid that I would become unseated and fall during the attack leaving me to be bitten or at the very least, injured by the fall.  But Scarlet refused to panic.  She laid her ears back at the dog, kicked out and made little charges at him, finally intimidating him into abandoning his attack on us.

After he left, we turned back towards the barn.  The stress and fear of the attack quickly turned a slight sinus pressure headache into a full blown migraine and imminent asthma attack.  I was not far from passing out and falling out of the saddle completely.  When we finally got back to the barn I was barely able to unsaddle her and put her in her paddock.  I managed to drive the short distance to my home and help myself past the asthma attack.

After a long hot shower, proper medications and a nap I recovered enough to go back out to the barn to check on my horse and give her the evening meal.  One of my friends was at the barn tending her horse also.  She approached me and asked what had happened that morning since Scarlet was lame and obviously had not been tended properly.

When I explained about the dog attack, she went with me up to my mare’s pen.  There she showed me a small puncture wound on my horse’s fetlock.  I believe that the dog had actually bitten her at some point but Scarlet had stood her ground, refusing to panic and run away with me.  She not only remained calm under the pressure of the attack by a large dog, but she had successfully defended us, and then made sure that she returned her incapacitated rider to safety.

This is only once of many times where, when faced with bad situations, my horse has shown not only extreme good sense but has taken responsibility for my welfare.  The only ‘bad’ thing that she does is when in a crowd of other horses she will lay back her ears and make aggressive motions.  When another horse reached out to touch her with his nose, she actually kicked him.  Once, while at a seminar, I spoke to a trainer about her ‘bad’ actions.  After listening to my story and questioning me further, he explained that my mare had taken a protective posture for me.  He said when and if I regained my health I could take the dominant role back from her slowly.  But he also emphasized that I should remember WHY she’d done it…for my welfare.

I am now fifty eight years old.  Scarlet is twenty two. That is not an outlandishly old age for either of us by any means but certainly one of maturity and wisdom.  She has not only recognized that I am disabled and that I depend upon her to act well while I’m riding but she has gone a step farther.  Scarlet has taken it upon herself to insure that I am kept safe by her intelligence and sensitivity to my needs.

Oh, we still have our fun hours too.  She still plays and spooks a little when we’re both feeling good and a fresh breeze is blowing.  And I’m hoping that with some new medications that are helping stabilize my condition that we can once again venture out to more distant trails and new adventures.  I know that she will enjoy seeing new surroundings as much as I will.

But I know that my Scarlet is more than just a pet, or a working animal.  She is my partner.  She has allowed me to continue to enjoy a way of life that most people at my age and situation would have given up.  Her happy whinny and soft careful touches at my arrival in the mornings and evenings continuously encourage me to keep on trying and pushing my limits.  She allows me the freedom to continue to continue to fulfill my love of the outdoors and experience nature’s beauty.  Her consideration of my physical frailty has allowed me to stay active and alive.  She is my angel horse.

Getting to Know the Horses of the AIHR – Iced Bonanza, “Keerah”

About three years ago, I was on the hunt for a horse. We searched the paper and craigslist for a place to board. Hooray. A place in the paper. We set up a day to go look at the property, and it was gorgeous. Spacious, and had some awesome trails. We came to an old cow pasture that he used to put his cattle in. I didn’t notice anything, as we kept moving. He showed us a wash rack/drinking area, and moved on. We made it back to his barn, and he asked Kandie, my brothers fiancée, and I if we had known anyone missing a red roan mare. We looked at each other confused and shook our heads. We made our way back down to the old cattle pasture and came to find a gelding that was VERY thin, and a little mare. We had to go through a gate into the pasture with the gelding, slipping and sliding in the mud. Luckily the gelding was just a gentle giant. I nicknamed him Big Fella. He even seemed to come to it when I called him. I then came to another gate to get to the mares pasture. After closing it, nearly getting stuck in the mud in the process, I walk up to her slowly. Her head was always low, and never set high. I reached out to her and touched her face. Kandie looked her over, too. Picking up all four of her feet. I rubbed on her ears and face, and my dad checked her mouth, trying to distinguish age. We guessed she was about 10.

She had been on his property for a long while. A few months with no apparent attention to her needs. We went back to the man’s shop and called animal control and asked how many days an animal has to be unclaimed on a property before it’s considered abandoned. Since she was considered abandoned, he asked me if I would like to have her. She would be free. He only wanted her off of his ‘property’. He wrote a Bill of Sale and she was mine all mine.

After about a week, she was moved to a better pasture, and soon acquired a new friend, Patch. I was asked by my new BO if I would mind bottle feeding a set of twin calves. Well, duh! My new routine was to go up and see the horses in the morning, then later in the evening feed the twins and feed the horses again thereafter.

Everything was going wonderful for a few weeks. We even got asked if we wanted to switch pastures to a much bigger one. Sure! Only, I had to share with a girl who never paid her rent, had dying horses, and was just overall no good. I told my BO I didn’t want to if it meant staying with her, and I was informed she was being evicted.

Now, this was the woman who had supposedly owned Keerah, but she kept telling the BO she didn’t know who this mare was. I called her at work and told her, ‘Sorry. I didn’t want to share the pasture.’ She seemed upset, but my horses were not going to be put into danger because of her. A couple days passed and we waited for the O.K. to move into the new pasture.

The day was like a normal morning. Went up to see my horse, newly named, Keerah. Later that day I went up and fed the twins as normal, and was happy to go see my girl, only she wasn’t in the pasture when I got there. I got out and slammed the door to the car and struggled to get the gate open. After swinging the gate open, and locking it behind me. I ran along the fence line, screaming her name. There was no downed fence and no trace of her jumping it. I dropped to my knees at the water trough and just began to cry. My dad came running to my side and was at a loss. I was determined to know what happened to my horse. I ran to the pasture entrance. Ah hah. Tire marks. Hoof prints. She was stolen.

I posted a Craigslist ad about a stolen horse in the Curry County/Del Norte area. I got a lot of replies wishing me luck, but nothing on her being found. I added a phone number. A week and nothing. I was more depressed than ever. To try and help keep myself going, I searched for her in other places.

I got a phone call a couple days later. Some girl saying she trailered the horse to her owner after a sale didn’t go through with her horse. I was amazed. I said, ‘That can’t be, as I’M the horses owner.’ The poor girl seemed so confused. I asked for the phone number to Keerah’s ‘owner’ and gave her a call. Seemed she was expecting my phone call.

She told me she had been selling Keerah to that woman on my BOs property. She was supposed to be trading 2 horses and 1,000 dollars for her. Come to find out, the two horses she was going to be trading weren’t even hers. And Keerah’s previous owner didn’t see a lick of money. She waited 4 months, with communication back and forth between them in e-mails, the lady buying Keerah stating she was having a wonderful time riding her in the snow on some trails. (First off, what snow? Second, Why wait 4 MONTHS of no payment from this lady). The lady buying Keerah called her up (I’m guessing the day I told her I didn’t want to share the pasture) and said she wouldn’t be able to care for Keerah anymore and to come get her.

So, there’s the story there, supposedly.

She told me I could have her for 2,000 dollars. I nearly dropped the phone. Two-thousand dollars? I just gave the phone to my mom. Come to find out, My mom knew this lady when she worked for the Veteranarian. Very crazy lady. She also happens to be the one who shot Lilly for kicking her, after buying her, knowing she had a kicking problem. Lilly was a little mare my dad was going to rescue. Always came in with her ‘sick animals’, when nothing was wrong with them. I cried for a long while, and continued to search for another horse, knowing I couldn’t afford a 2,000 dollar horse.

Later that week, I get a phone call from the same lady, and she informs me that I need to buy her. She’s become depressed, won’t eat or drink, and doesn’t even enjoy the company of her gelding boyfriend. She is worried for the sake of Keerah, and says she’ll drop the price in half to 1,000. I hand the phone to my dad, and we actually scheduled a pick-up date. I’m getting my baby back.

My dad and I got to the Rite-aid parking lot and she’s there waiting for us. My window is down and I can hear Keerah scream at the sound of the truck. She begins to nicker and whinny. I run up to the trailer and just begin to cry. She tells me she hasn’t seen her this happy since before she left. She was munching on some hay and I kept hand feeding it to her. She’d push the hay at me, and I’d give it to her. My dad made the transaction and signed the paperwork, as I was not of legal age then. I signed under his name as legal owner, and my dad signed as the legal guardian.

Finally, she was officially mine. I got her back, and her roaning had just covered her whole body. She had greyed out a LOT in the little time she left, but came back with a few more fears.

This lady LAUGHED as she told me she whipped her all over the field to keep her in her designated eating area. (What the heck is that.. Seriously?!?) She told me she needed to use a twitch on her to worm her, as she’d rear. She told me to take her nostril and twist it tightly and worm her. I looked at her in shock, and was so happy she was back in my possession..

Thinking back on it now, I should have taken her to court. It wasn’t my issue, and she had been abandoned on someone’s property, and she sat there for 4 months. But, she’s mine, and I lock up EVERYTHING now. No one is taking her from me. Ever. Ever. Again.

I tried to shorten our story a bit, as it was a heck of a long adventure, but she’s mine, and that’s all I care about. I love her so much!!!

~ Story written by Keerah’s mom, Terrah Yoacham

Hello my name is Brooke Sims and my Best Friends name is Dance Inside The Sun. This is our story.

Ever since I was little, I longed for the day when me and my family would have horses. As the days without horses grew longer, I started to think the possibility of me getting a horse was just a distant wish. Finally I got my first horse or so I thought, but it wqasn’t the right fit. I tried several horses that I chose, but sadly none chose me. After three years maybe even longer of trying to find a horse, I was near to giving up when we decided to try one last horse. We were at Karma Farms where Mrs. Vickie was showing us the new yearlings and 2 yr olds they just got, because the pony I had at the time was crazy and had ran off with me and reared up with Miss Vickie. As she and my mom were talking, I was rather glum and crying, because I was dang near positive that none of them would be the one.

A shining horse, the color of the sun, was about to change that thought. He came up to me while I had my back turned then he started licking my face, he even licked my tears away. Miss Vickie said, “Don’t let that colt bite you”, but I knew he wouldn’t because it was him, my favorite horse in the world. I had seen him before, but I figured that I couldn’t afford a horse as perfect as him even in wildest dreams. We stood there for a long time him licking my face and me giggling because it tickled. Miss Vickie told my mom that we should stop looking because this colt had just picked me and she saw the connection too. (It’s a good thing they saw it too, because I thought maybe I was hallucinating due to the fact he was my dream horse.) As my mom always says where there is a will there is a way. I was determined to have him as my own. A couple of months before I had done the local goat show and sold my goat for $500, but that wasn’t enough so I decided to spend my money. I went to the sale barn and got a couple of flashy colts for just at $300. Then I trained those horses on groundwork and sold one for $750 and another for $300. There were three good things that came from training those horses; 1. Horse Training Experience, 2.Learning Responsibility and How to Stretch My Money, 3. Last but certainly not least, I got to buy Dance Inside the Sun.

Soon after taking Dance Inside the Sun (who we call Sid or Sidney for short) home, we started week one of basic training. Day 1 he was home: I taught him how to walk and trot in hand. Day 2: I taught him to back up and lift each and every hoof. Day 3: we reviewed what we learned and he got rewarded with a whole day to graze. Day 4: we practiced walking and trotting over logs, creeks, and other things that he might one day come across. Day 5: I started teaching him to work on the lounge line (Walk, Trot, and Lope). Day 6: we finished part two of lounge line training (reverse, face, etc.). Day 7: final day of basic training we reviewed over everything, practiced loading the trailer, and I rewarded him.  Astonished by his ability to understand, I just seemed to start falling head over heels for him even more. They say a horse can’t understand you and not to waste your breath, but I beg to differ. I love Sid and he understands everything I say and do. He is better than any horse I had ever had and I thought that was just how he was with everyone… so I decided to let my sisters see what they could do with him. Sure enough I was wrong , that love I had for him was the same love he had for me. When the girls would ask him to do things, he was alright, but he just wasn’t the same for them as he was for me. I was happy to know he loved me as much as I loved him.

Over the summer, he was still too small to ride so every day I went over everything we learned then I added something each time. First I would groom him, and then we would work for exactly 15 minutes on the longe line, after that I would try a new piece of tack on him, when I finished that we would start learning new things. Every other day instead of trying on more tack we would work on desensitization. Soon I had him able to wear a blanket, a saddle, a girth, a breast collar, and a bridle. He was also completely desensitized to pooches, rain slickers, Wal-Mart bags, paper sacks, bubbles (surprisingly scared him at first), and anything else you could think to try. After that summer he became the best horse I could have ever wished for. Then one day after going to the vet and getting the ok to start him under saddle, I got on his back. After about 30 minutes of riding he was able to walk, trot, extended trot, lope, and back up. (I think mostly because he already knew it on the ground.)

When I finished riding that day I went home to make a list of everything I was going to try tomorrow. The next day I tried testing his skills to the limit to find what he couldn’t do and were his awesomeness stopped. So I stood up on his back, rode side saddle, rode backwards, rode bareback, stood up bareback, but there was just no end. He wanted to be ridden. Every day I went out the he would grab the saddle pad, the saddle and then I would saddle him up. One time when I finished grooming him, he picked up the hairbrush and brushed my hair. Sid is the best horse I have ever had and I wouldn’t doubt it if he was the best in the world. He always made me feel bad when it was time to leave for the night because he would stick his head in the door, then when I would close it and my mom would start driving, he would run up from behind, and start whinnying. I love him with all my heart and could never live without him.

Now, after being under saddle for a couple of months, I could never have asked for a better horse. He may not be the fastest, but he has a heart of gold. The one only time I ever fell off him (because I lost my balance when we were running) he came and stood right next to me, and let me grab his neck to help myself up. Then he followed me with his head down all the way to the house, even though I wasn’t leading him. After that I went in the house to clean the dirt off of my clothing, he stayed right where I left him and called the whole time I was gone. He was happy when I came back and got back on him. I don’t know if that means anything to anyone else, but it sure as heck shows me he is an amazing horse, because it was not even his fault that I fell, but he was still worried about me. Now, whenever I try to make him go fast, he will not do it if I’m not balanced correctly.

Overall, I think that Dance Inside the Sun is the most amazing horse I have ever had. Hopefully one day everyone who is searching for their perfect match will find one just as good as mine with my little Sidney. I love him more than anything and I don’t know how I would live without him. Thank you for reading our story and if you love Sid as much as me you can follow him on facebook under “Dance Inside The Sun”.

Shazam War Horse And Protector

Oh my goodness where to start! I guess it would begin as a dream. My dream sent to me by the laughing spirit of Beau, my 4 year old colt who had recently passed from a hard to diagnose choke. The dream? It was of a blue sclera eye surrounded by freckles.

Soon after that, a friend, Gretchen Patterson, pointed out a horse at Karma Farms in Marshall, TX as needing a person. He was a big gangly 8 year old primitive looking gelding that had just been green broke by Doug Norush. When the big dun turned to look at me, his eyes followed my every step around the yard. It was then I noticed his left eye was ice blue surrounded by freckles! I had to look again because the other eye was a soft brown. I had to have him. I was told he was too much of a horse for me (true enough). But Beau had spoken.

He and I then spent time, many ground hours together in the yard. In a very short time, I could go out to the pasture, and call him. He would look up (even while eating) neigh hello, and canter over to me to be haltered with me having just a treat in my pocket. Somehow he knew I had an advanced case of arthritis in my knees and could not walk far to get him without pain. I took lessons on him, in the closed pasture at Karma Farms and when he/we trotted his easy working trot I was in heaven. The problem with Zam and me though, a slow trot was not his forte’ and he and I both knew it. I came off of him once – hard – the first time we went out into the big pasture. It was a shock because before he slipped and I panicked, he and I had been strutting our stuff with him showing the other horses he was carrying his Mom, and me, I was just happy.

Shortly after that I had to have a series of unrelated surgeries. After each one visitors and regulars at Karma Farms would see the two of us sharing time on the lawn in front of my house. Me in a chair sitting and reading, and he quietly eating grass next to me, checking to make sure I was okay every once in a while.

Shazam was growing into quite a horse. A very good friend Curtis George rode him in NATRC and at the Tejas AIHR shows for me 2009. I have some gorgeous pictures of the two of them from both venues. It was Zam’s first try, and he needed some work. Curtis was just happy to be on a horse that liked to move without a whole lot of encouragement. After that Curtis had his own horses to work on, but I was happy to have seen my baby in action with someone. After that, Zam became a pasture ornament and weekend companion to me. His favorite job was watching the new babies for their mommas in spring.

In late 2009 a man named Jerry Hilligoss came to work at Karma Farms. Vik Ives said he looked at all the horses on the place and asked about Zam. She told him, “Not for sale Jerry. He belongs to Mrs. Leopold.” Then the fall days quickly turned into the next June, and after one knee surgery, I had Zam up and was grooming and fussing over him. The tall lean Oklahoman approached me and asked if he could ride him. I believe this was the beginning of the development of an incredible friendship.

Jerry started riding Zam at the Tejas July AIHR show. They were a photogenic pair together, and an entertaining one. Both shared the need for speed. Jerry always said they were both adrenaline junkies. Unlike Zam the Protector with me, this was Shazam the War Horse in action. In September of 2010 they were paired up for the first time at the AIHR National Show. Jerry had been conditioning Zam for NATRC and possibly AERC, so he was a “trail monster.” Muscled like no other horse in the ring, Jerry and Zam were a sight to see. This incredible horse shined in halter. My once gangly big headed baby won overall “O” Gelding and Overall “O”. That boy in motion could turn heads! The speed events continued the Jerry and Zam show. They went from “eating gate” in one event to the fastest times imaginable in another. We ended the show with Overall Reserve Champion Senior Adult Rider and the Kiamichi Wildfire award for High Point Gelding.

They started on NATRC that fall as well together. Zam got a reputation for the dun Appaloosa butt out in the front in the open events. Jim Edmondson at Optical Harmonic’s pictures captured their friendship developing over the season. Their placings were haphazard – but they had fun and Zam was happy.After the John Zinc NATRC ride up near Jerry’s family in Sand Springs, OK last summer, I was surprised to notice that with their first place there, and the points totals they had accumulated, a chance for a National Championship for 2011 in the Open Category through NATRC was within reach. The race was on.

We did take some time out for the 2011 Nationals, where a more sophisticated and finished Zam still knew how to entertain. In the trail class, apparently the white bridge Jerry asked him to cross was seen by our horse as a bad and threatening monster. Jerry said Zam came to the bridge, sniffed it, reared up on his hind legs and came crashing down on top of it. After this, he blithely walked across it. No more bad guy white bridge – everyone could now pass safely! This performance leaves an indelible picture of his true nature to anyone willing to see it – War horse for the strong/protector of the weak. Rick Sims had it right Zam was a real working horse. Jerry and Zam won high point total for the Southeast Regional Show and the AIHR/National Show.

Our Championship run came to an end in Pole Canyon ride in the beginning of October when Zam slipped and came up lame and had to pull the second day. It would have to be in 2012 and Jerry and I started immediately to plan. I have great memories of the 2011 challenge time though. In Topeka, KS during Riding for the Rescue in Region 6 I heard one woman exclaim “I recognize that skinny mustang butt! That horse WALKS at minimum 4-1/2 miles per hour!” They called him Jerry’s “little work truck” there. Another was at Pole Canyon NATRC in West Texas where he got an 8/1 P&R. Larry Gould who took his respiration said later, “it was almost a zero, but I caught that one breath at the end.”

One clear memory I have is set in the early morning light at Pole Canyon, an incredibly beautiful and ethereal place. This is a picture in my head of Zam and Jerry, both with heads bowed. Zam is in his bright red blanket and Jerry in his Mexican blanket poncho, watching from above the trail as the horses and riders went out on that second morning.

Well all dreams apparently must come to an end. Zam was out on a conditioning ride in Oklahoma on Sunday October 16, when he slipped, lost his rider and ran for his “heart” home, Jerry’s place on the Osage Indian Reservation. 100 yards from safety he got hit by a pickup truck and suffered severe spinal injuries. Jerry was in contact with me at my home in Texas up until 12 AM that Sunday night when he asked if he could put him to sleep himself. Jerry always knew what was best for Zam and I told him that, and to take care of our horse. So Zam went to his final sleep with his head in the lap of his best and true friend Jerry.
As with all dreams only some of it is remembered . I hope I remember all the good things. And yes, my heart is sad – but I know he is now running in the skies with no one telling him when to stop, and maybe pausing every once in a while, with his head bowed looking down on me, and Jerry and everyone that admired and loved him, watching us trotting out for our next ride.

By: Patricia Leopold

Shazam

As we rode the miles together the two of us made one.

But every mile we made , made both our lives more fun.

I needed him, he needed me – a perfect balance few could see.

No matter where we had to go he would never dream of saying no.

Another horse will never be the special friend he was to me

This horse they said no man could stand I trusted more than any man.

Many horses await me on the other side but he’s the one I’ll catch and ride

Of all the memories we created in my heart they are all gold plated

Ropen ‘ riden’ huntin’ treasure – no way he would quit you ever.

If you could rope it – he could pull it and pass the others like a bullet

Now he’s crossed over to the other side we’ll meet there & true skies we’ll ride

Don’t know what I’ll do til then – I think I’ll turn my saddle in.

By: Jerry Hilligoss