Phoenix is back up for sale

I'm not ready to post about my beautiful bay girl yet. I'm still trying to distract myself from thinking too much about what happened.

Instead, I am passing the word that the lovely Arabian mare I sold back in August to a lady named Shannon from Adel, IA, is back up for sale. Shannon told me that her situation has changed, and she has to move from the farm she lives on currently with her two girls and three horses. I really appreciated her contacting me to give me the first option of buying back such a sweet mare.

Unfortunately, this is a familiar story in the rough economy we face today. I hope my situation is resolved before I have to seek desperate measures of my own.

I told Shannon I would help in any way I possibly can to find a wonderful home for Phoenix (now Bella). Shannon said there wasn't a rush; she has Phoenix pasture boarded at a friend's house for now. I'm not sure how much she is asking for Phoenix, but if anyone is interested/knows of anyone interested, I can always relay the information.

Basic information on Phoenix:
1999 chestnut Arabian mare
registered AHA as Praire Park Gerri (I know, I know, very unfortunate name)
previous posts with some background/breeding information here and here

This mare really is a nice girl, but she needs a lighter rider (which is why I sold her). A light adult or intermediate child would be great for her. She has been on many trail rides and was bred for endurance. Like most Arabs, she has a lot of "go," so she needs a rider confident enough to handle that. She is very level headed and not spooky at all. Not a mean bone in her body, but she is an alpha mare, so she needs someone assertive enough to remind her of her manners on the ground.

Here are some photos from past trail rides I shared with Phoenix:

Friday Before Mother's Day Ride (FBMDR) 2009, Valparaiso, NE - love the cute fuzzy ears!

Loess Hills Saddle Club Ride, Preparation Canyon (Moorhead, IA), September 2008

Our first trail ride together at Cunningham Lake (Omaha, NE), August 2008

And some pictures from just riding in the area around my house (Julie on Phoenix, me on Zeplin):

June 2009

June 2009

August 2009

So please spread the word! This lady deserves a great home!

First time horse ownership, part V

Zeplin

I made my way through knee high grass and weeds and down the rutted path towards the location where I spotted Zeplin's chestnut tobiano coat. He stood still at my approach, clearly exhausted and soaked in sweat, head drooped past his knees. His blonde mane stuck in soggy clumps to a glistening wet neck. Zeplin wore a bright red, brand-new, yearling-size halter that hung loosely over his young Arab head, to which I attached the first leadrope.

The miniature gelding, Chester, appeared from the brush nearby. I caught him handily and attached a second leadrope to his small green halter. His sides heaved rapidly from exertion, but he remained upbeat and energetic.

I led both of my errant boys past my motorcycle and onto the gravel road towards home. We were about six miles away from the house. I'm not sure how long our journey lasted. Poor baby Zeplin had clearly been pushed past his endurance. He wanted to stop again and again, refusing to budge when I tugged on the lead. I realized that if I dropped the line and continued walking Chester, the colt would stand his ground for awhile, and then rush to catch up so he wouldn't be left by himself.

The sun burned brightly on my neck as we reached our yard. I offered the boys water, then put them back in their pen with a happy Eddie. Eddie brayed a welcome to his best buddy, which perked little Chester right up and added spring to his step.

I rested for a moment and contemplated my next move. Now I had to retrieve my motorcycle as well as the other three horses. I dreaded walking the distance over and over, but that seemed to be my only choice.

As I grabbed the leads and headed down the driveway again, a green Chevy truck pulled up to me. The driver rolled the window down, and I stepped up to address the white-haired gentleman behind the wheel.

"Hey, I noticed that you have horses now," the man began.

"Well, I did," I replied, my frustration creeping into my voice. "They ran off last night, and I have to go back and get the others." I gestured to the fence behind me where Zeplin, Chester, and Eddie were happily munching on hay.

"Do you need some help?" the man offered. The lady with him smiled at me as I nodded silently. "Hop in!" he replied, indicating the crew door on the passenger's side.

Gratefully, I slid into the dark leather bench seat. "My name's Dennis," the man said. He introduced his lady friend as well, but for the life of me I cannot remember her name anymore. "Do you know where they are?"

"Yes, they are in a farmer's field by the river," I answered. I directed him while he drove.

Before we reached my abandoned bike, I looked down a dirt lane between two corn fields and saw Phoenix's shiny red body. "There they are!" I pointed. "I'll walk down and grab them then we can take them home."

 It took some effort to capture my reluctant mares. I only found Jazzy and Phoenix; Caly was nowhere in site. Jazzy still had very little human interaction and had not yet been halter trained. My only chance at getting the wild mare home was by catching the alpha Arabian mare first.

Phoenix played hard-to-get for awhile, trotting up and down rows of growing soybeans whenever I neared. I finally snagged her and attached the lead to her halter. Once caught she followed me willingly back down the dirt track towards the waiting truck.

Jazzy whinnied after us. She didn't want me to halter her, but she feared being left behind. I handed Dennis Phoenix's lead then softly approached Jazzy again.

Finally, Jazzy allowed me to to pull her heavy nylon halter over her face and buckle it around her poll. All fight left her, and she walked behind me quietly to where my new friends waited.

Dennis put down the tailgate of the truck and motioned for me to sit there. "We'll each hold a horse's lead and she can drive," he said, nodding towards his female companion. "If you need her to slow down, just holler at her."

The truck pulled forward slowly. I held Jazzy's lead, and felt it go taut when the vehicle moved. At first she resisted, then she gave to the pressure and began walking.

Whereas Phoenix paced briskly behind the truck, head up and ears pricked, Jazzy stumbled tiredly, dragging her feet along the gravel road. Several times, I indicated to Dennis that we were going too fast for Jazzy. Numerous times, when Jazzy slowed to the point of almost stopping, I would hop off the back of the truck and walk her by hand. Dried sweat clung to her copper-colored coat, and her flazen mane hung limply over her sagging neck.

Along the way, Dennis decided we should take a break to offer the mares water. There were only two houses along the road, but he knew the owner of one. Kevin was an area farmer who lived alone in his old white farmhouse. I learned from Dennis that Kevin had his driver's license revoked after too many DUI arrests, so now he took his combine into town for transportation.

Fortunately, Kevin was sympathetic to our needs, and I was able to offer my girls cool water from a dog bowl under the hydrant in his yard. They drank deeply, barely giving us time to refill the bowl before plunging steamy muzzles back into the water. After a few refills, we gently tugged them away from the bowl to continue our trip home.

I think it's safe to say that Jazzy was well broke to halter and lead by the time we finally reached my yard.

Phoenix and Jazzy joined the boys, burying their noses deep in the hay. Dennis and his friend gave me a lift back to my bike so I could continue my search for Caly. "Give us a call if you need anything," he told me before they left.

Jazzy

Hot, worn out and worried, I climbed back on the blue motorcycle. I compressed the clutch, grabbed the brake and pushed in the electric start button. My bike roared back to life.

To be continued...

Phoenix's song

I no longer have the beautiful red mare, but I will always remember her story. Hers is truly a tale of second chances and new beginnings.

I had already sold the little Arab pony when a lady named Heather contacted me about her, having found one of my ads for Phoenix online. Heather owned a horse of similar breeding, Praire Park Ian ("Neeter"). She wasn't interested in purchasing Phoenix, but she knew my girl from before her days at the rescue. I had some inkling of Phoenix's story from the rescuer, but I wasn't absolutely certain about everything. The rescuer mentioned that I might not want to contact the breeder from what she'd heard about the condition the horses were in when Phoenix was purchased.

Heather sent me an email to explain how Phoenix ended up at the rescue. This is Phoenix's history, in Heather's words:

So, the scoop on Phoenix...no she wasn't started. We bought Neeter about 4 years ago from that lady in Chapman. A gal from a horse list I'm on was up here from MS after hurricane Katrina and fell in love with him and wanted his same breeding. We found that Praire Park was dispersing and headed out to see Phoenix based on that one pic you probably have. I tell you, when we got there I was just sick. I don't know what happened between us buying Neeter and then but her horses were starved. Phoenix was about a 2 on whatever scale the vets follow. There were 3 year olds that were tinier than my then 6 month old colt, all huddled around a round bale of black grass. I tried to take home one of those babies but she just wouldn't come down below $750. I guess it was for the best because they were severly stunted and I'm a big girl-never could have ridden them. I cried the whole way home but at least we got Phoenix out. We decided on Phoenix on the way home-rising from her past.

So my friend took her to a trainer to put weight on her and later get her started. They just couldn't put weight on her at all and she had a lump in her jaw. The vets finally found she had a broken tooth that was badly abcessed in her gums. They recommended putting her down because it was so severe. It was going to cost $3000 just for surgery, plus she'd need special care for the first 6 months at a huge cost. About this time my friend also had to decide whether to go back to MS or stay in IA. She finally got ahold of that rescue and they said they could get the surgery cheaper and handle the aftercare. That was the last I heard about Phoenix-I assume she did have the surgery finally.

I almost guarantee she never grew to her full potential due to the starving and tooth problem. Neeter is a shortie, but he's stout. I could probably ride him and not bother him too much with my weight, but I'd look silly sitting on that pony :)
Heather's email explained a lot of the things I had observed with Phoenix. She was one of the most narrow horses I had ever seen, most likely due to starvation during a critical growth phase. She was already fully mature by the time she came into my care, so it was too late to reverse the permanent damage. It was always difficult to keep weight on her, again most like due to the stunting of her growth that resulted from lack of proper nutrition.

I have no doubt about the veracity of Heather's version of events. I have no idea why the breeder allowed her horses to deteriorate so much between the time of Heather's purchase of Neeter and when she and Candice (the friend) returned to collect Phoenix. It sounds to me like a typical "hoarder" situation, where the breeder refused to believe that she no longer had the resources to care for her herd and would not ask for help. I'm just glad they were able to pull Phoenix and give her a chance at a new life. Phoenix taught me a lot and gave me the confidence to take on the challenge of training the rest of my ponies. I'll forever be indebted to that sweet red girl.

Phoenix now lives near Des Moines and has been renamed Bella. I recently viewed photos of her playing with her new herd in the falling snow. She will be trained for endurance and go on to compete, fulfilling the promise of her genetic heritage.

First time horse ownership, part IV

Exhausted but determined, I hauled myself out of bed as the first rays of dawn brightened the eastern sky. I abandoned the unfortunate red Mazda in favor of my little blue motorcycle. I could travel places on my bike that I wouldn't be able to reach in the car.

In the calm glow of the morning sun, it was ridiculously easy to find the path left by my feral herd. They clung to the roads, leaving mountainous clumps of green manure wherever they passed. I ventured out on chalky gravel streets farther from my house than any previous expedition since I moved there. In some locations, the banks of the road dropped sharply into deep ditches lined by tall sullen trees. Corn and soybean fields stretched out endlessly on either side of me as I drove. Occasionally I would discover a remote house guarded by overgrown maple trees.

Alas I found them! My silly bunch of ponies had found the only other horses in our vicinity! They grazed casually in a stranger's yard, discussing mundane equine topics with the lone sorrel on the other side of a small metal corral.

My bike wasn't loud, but Phoenix started at the sound of my approach. Off she went, dashing across the road into the soybean field with her rag-tag band trailing out behind her!

I wasn't sure what to do at this point, as I hadn't thought so far ahead. How would I bring the renegades home? I had some lead ropes and halters in the tail bag on my motorcycle, but there was no way I would be able to lead them on my bike!

The herd sprinted across the beans until they reached the thick cornstalks of the next section. I had never seen any of them run before, and it certainly was a breathtaking site. Phoenix's bright copper coat gleamed against a background of leaves. Her tail flagged high in the air. Her head was held high with nostrils flared and flowing mane streaming out behind. Jazzy paced her then came Zeplin with his own proud Arab tail aloft. Poor young Caly, not quite a year old, and diminutive Chester, with his shorter legs, labored to remain with the group. I could only follow from a distance, keeping them firmly in my sites as I drove alongside the field.

Phoenix running in the pasture (video still)

The row of beans ended abruptly, and Phoenix darted up the embankment back onto the road with everyone else pursuing. I lagged behind them, trying not to panic them further. They paused, nostrils wide, coats soaked with sweat, and sides heaving from effort. I killed the engine of the bike and rested it on its kickstand. Cautiously I approached my little heathens, calling urgently and hiding a rope behind my back.

Phoenix would have none of it. She abruptly spun on her heels and crashed through a ditch into yet another bean field. Her band struggled after her, clearly winded. Phoenix darted through the plants, widening the gap between herself and her herdmates. Distressed to find herself alone, she halted and called to them. Jazzy pressed gamely onward, dropping to a brisk trot. The remaining three slowed but continued to follow their leader to the best of their abilities.

A fence divided the soybean field from the adjacent corn crop. The fence terminated at yet another corn field, but there was a several foot gap between the two fields. Phoenix vanished into the opening, and soon I lost site of the others as well. Frustrated beyond belief and fighting a huge lump in my throat, I backtracked to the nearest road heading west, the direction my ponies had disappeared.

The gravel ended and I found myself on a dirt track heading to a heavily wooded section by the Missouri River. At the edge of the woods was a barbed wire fence with a large metal gate blocking access to the remainder of the dirt path. To my right, a rutted corridor forged its way through tall grass to several machine sheds far back from the dirt track. I pulled into the path and parked my bike.

At the end of the corn row abutting the corridor I could make out the white of Zeplin's coat.

To be continued...

Phoenix's geneology

When I adopted my horses, I wanted to know as much about each individual as possible. Phoenix came with Arabian Horse Association papers, the only registered member of my herd (as far as I know--Jazzy could be registered, I suppose). Sired by Shalimar Caravan out of Rushcreek Gracie, Praire Park Gerri was bred for endurance or ranch work. I love following a pedigree in pictures, so I will do my best to present some of her better-known ancestors.

Shalimar Caravan (Shalimar Caribou x Shalimar Collette)

For anyone familiar with Arabian breeding, the Shalimar program focused on linebred Raffles horses. Raffles was bred by Lady Wentworth at the Crabbet Stud in England and imported to the U.S. by Roger Selby in 1932.

Raffles (Skowronek x Rifala)

Raffles himself was inbred, the product of a father (Skowronek)-daughter (Rifala) mating.

Skowronek (Ibrahim x Jaskolka)

Rifala (Skowronek x Rissla)

Lady Wentworth purchased Skowronek from Poland to introduce fresh blood into her breeding program.

Dr. Bill Munson established Shalimar Farms based on Raffles lines. One of his favorite niche crosses consisted of breeding daughters of Garaff (by Raffles) to Orbit.

Bill Munson and Garaff (Raffles x Woengran)

Orbit was the product of the mating of a Raffles son and a Raffles daughter, each of whom had an additional cross to Raffles on the dam's side of their pedigrees.

Orbit (Rafferty (by Raffles) x Raffleeta (by Raffles))

Another prominent sire in Phoenix's pedigree is the Orbit son Winraff. He was also routinely crossed on Garaff daughters.

Winraff (Orbit x Shalimar Wingida)

One of Bill Munson's favorite horses of all time was the mare Collette. Collette bred to Garaff produced Shalimar Colletta, Phoenix's great granddam on both sides of her sire's pedigree.

Bill Munson and Collette (Rapture (by Raffles) x Cassandra (by Raffles))

Shalimar Colletta was in turn bred to Winraff and the Winraff son Silver-SP-Winefti to produce Phoenix's grandsire and granddam, respectively, on her sire's side.

Unfortunately I don't have a picture of Phoenix's dam, Rushcreek Gracie. She came from a similar breeding program, using primarily Shalimar stock with a touch of Al-Marah bloodlines as well. Arabians were used to work cattle at Rush Creek until employees were allowed to furnish their own horses in 2006. These days Rush Creek hosts endurance competitions and sells the purebred Arabians bred at the ranch.

The beautiful stallion Sandarac Sanraven stood at Rush Creek for many years. He was Phoenix's damsire.

Sandarac Sanraven (Sandarac Sanpiper x Shalimar Bestgida (by Orbit))

Sandarac Sanraven resulted from the cross of Sandarac Sanpiper with the Orbit daughter Shalimar Bestgida (another Garaff granddaughter).

Sandarac Sanpiper (Shalimar Tarde x Shalimar Mitseeah (by Orbit))

Sandarac Sanpiper's sire Shalimar Tarde was high percentage Skowronek bred, tracing back to both Raffles and Raseyn (another Skowronek son) multiple times.

Shalimar Tarde (Rasan x Rose of Raswan (by Raffles))

Now that I've truly lost you by throwing out a gazillion names, I'll come back to the little red mare I used to own. Phoenix has several full siblings somewhere out there. I found pictures of one, Praire Park Gwen.

Praire Park Gwen (Shalimar Caravan x Rushcreek Gracie)

Phoenix also has at least one (most likely many more) 3/4 sister, JH Desert Breeze. Bree shares the same sire and damsire.

JH Desert Breeze (Shalimar Caravan x Praire Park Glenda (?) (by Sandarac Sanraven))

All of these generations of careful selection and concentrated breeding resulted in the birth on March 4, 1999, of the solid red filly with a large star in the center of her forehead. I'll go into the story of her life at a later time :-)

Praire Park Gerri, aka Phoenix

First time horse ownership, part III

My four new equine friends arrived on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Their anxious faces peered at me through the rails of the bright red stock trailer. Scrawny little Treasure and gangly Baby were in the front compartment, separated from the two red mares by a divider. All of them were loose. Only Jazhara didn't have a halter on her scared-looking face. "She is not halter-broke," was the explanation.

The rescue lady backed her large trailer up to the gate of my chain link fence panels and opened the back. Two bright coppery bodies bolted out, confused. We directed them into the pen, blocking any escape routes with our bodies. She climbed into the trailer and freed the remaining two ponies. They trembled on their knobby knees, but they were a lot more tractable and easier to direct. After leading them into the pen, the lady removed their halters, although she told me I could keep the one on Phoenix.

We retreated to the house to sign the paperwork. I could barely believe that I finally had a herd of my own. I signed agreements promising to never sell the horses at auction, and she handed me Phoenix's registration papers. Phoenix was the only papered horse of the four, registered with the Arabian Horse Association as Praire Park Gerri. I winced when I read her unfortunate name. "Prairie" wasn't even spelled correctly (or was that intentional?).

After a little more chatting, the lady and her friend, who came along to help, returned to their rig and drove away. I felt excited but at a loss as well. I didn't have a shelter up for the horses, I needed fencing around my five acres to allow them grazing, and the only horse-keeping experience I had was the short time with little Chester and Eddie. I was totally unprepared.

Only a couple days after the newbies arrived, they made a break for it. What "it" was, I'm not sure, but they decided to try my temporary fencing. When it gave easily, they headed out down the road. I don't know how long they were gone before I went out to check on them, but the sun had already sunk well below the horizon and the dark, moonless night offered no clues as to their whereabouts. How do five horses and a donkey simply vanish?

My heart leapt immediately into my throat. I imagined any number of horrible incidences. Bruised, bloody, broken bodies lying on the road in front of a furious motorist. Hordes of mountain lions, coyotes, or wild dogs chasing frightened and wild eyed ponies through dense corn and soybean fields. Panicked equines bolting straight into barbed wire fencing in the blackness, shredding thin, fine skin.

I gathered my German Shepherd mix, Tasha, and we hopped in my crappy little Mazda to go look for the doomed horses. The Mazda's headlights barely illuminated two feet in front of me, much less enough to see any evidence of the passing of my herd. We puttered along a few of the local roads with no luck, stopping to call once in awhile from the road into the enveloping blanket of the night. The longer we were out the more my heart sank. I felt dread and terror building up within my chest. How stupid I had been, to leave them out in that temporary fencing instead of putting them back in their makeshift pen. I had no local resources to help in my search.

Finding nothing from the pathetic Mazda, I decided to continue my search on foot. I grabbed Tasha's leash (not trusting her to keep by my side otherwise). We headed back down the gravel road, straining our eyes to catch site of the errant ponies. I found manure on the road and easily followed the path until we reached a dead end at a soybean field. The horses had left the road and entered the field. I couldn't see them or hear them. Tasha and I pressed on through the stubbly green stems until we reached the edge of the field where it bordered a cornfield. I debated turning back, but again the violent images danced through my mind, preventing me from abandoning the task. Into the cornstalks we crashed, thrashing around blindly.

I have no idea how long my loyal pup and I pushed our way through stalks towering well above my head. The rustling of the leaves as the wind ran through made the fine hairs of my arm stand on end. I brushed through more stalks and stumbled into a clearing. No sign of the horses, but a trail of headlights not far ahead informed me that we were close to the interstate. It was time to turn back. Without light, the search remained futile. I would have to pick it up in the early hours of pre-dawn.

Tasha and I trudged along the edge of a bean field, skirted the strange neighbor's house, and continued on through yet more beans, trying to cut back to the road.

We were blocked.

Ahead of us lay a deep ditch, at least 10 feet down, filled with water. Why hadn't I noticed it in the field previously? I slid down the embankment, searching for a spot where I could leap across the stream. My feet were soaked in my old tennis shoes from inadvertently sinking into a soft part of the marshy ground. I couldn't see in the inky night where the ditch might end. We tried following it away from the strange neighbor's house, but only found ourselves trekking even farther into the bean field and away from the road. Frustrated, I backtracked. I think we had to go the entire length of the field and past the strange neighbor's house yet again. We reached the edge of the corn patch again, this time not venturing very deep into the jungle of grasping leaves.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Tasha and I burst from the corn into the bean field we had originally traversed. Exhausted, worried, squishing my toes in wet socks, I dragged myself back home...

...To find Eddie grazing peacefully in the front yard as if he had never left. However, my sad-eyed long-ear was alone.

Feeling utterly disgusted with myself, I led Eddie to the pen and then went to bed. I set my alarm for five, way too early for a night owl to be up in the morning. I had difficulties sleeping, but eventually drifted off, dreaming of monstrous corn stalks and injured horses.

To be continued...

Tasha

Decision time!

Alright, Thanksgiving is almost here!! I really want to get my Christmas cards out early this year, so... Without any feedback on the pictures, I decided on the ones I would use ;-) I've put together a collage. How does this look?

I tricked you, I used a different DC trip picture without me in it! My friends and family already know what I look like :-P

'Tis the season...

This time of year I try to reaffirm my friendship with people I may not contact on a daily, weekly or even monthly basis. I highly value my friends, having grown up with very few. I like to send out a holiday letter with mention of the most noteworthy events of the past year. I include a 4" x 6" photo collage of a few of the best pictures from the year. As you can imagine, they are usually horse related.

I have been poring over my photo albums from the past few years, especially since I use some of them for blogs about the past. Sometimes I have gone months without taking more than a picture or two. Other times I take millions of them, usually when I go on a trail ride.

Now I am considering which pictures to include in my collage this year. I want a picture of each of my three remaining horses under saddle, since I started them all myself just this past summer. I'm not sure if I actually want to include myself in the pictures. I don't like having my picture taken or sharing those pictures, but it does illustrate the point that I've now ridden all of my ponies. I think I'll post some of the candidates here, and if anyone actually reads this, that person can offer his or her opinion :-) I can probably use up to six pictures.

1. Phoenix after the Friday Before Mother's Day Ride (self-explanatory) in Valparaiso, NE. The grey is my friend Julie's Swedish Warmblood mare, Vivian.

2. Zeplin looking sharp in his English tack.

3. Not a horse, or under saddle, but I definitely need to include my Quimby girl.

4. My favorite riding picture of Jazzy with me cropped out as much as possible. I love her soft expression in this one.

5. A picture of me on Jazzy where I didn't chop myself out, but probably should have.

6. Jazzy in her Western attire.

7. Zeplin and I on our first trail ride away from home (Lake Cunningham in Omaha).

8. A close up of Zeplin's face at Lake Cunningham.

9. My favorite riding picture of Caly with me cropped out quite a bit. I love her beautiful face with the ears perked forward in this one.

10. Caly and I at Lake Cunningham on her first "official" trail ride.

11. My niece Samantha on Caly.

12. Caly saddled and ready to go.

13. Or maybe I should include a picture from my D.C. trip? In front of the Lincoln Memorial?

14. In front of the White House?

Hmmm... I'm not liking the pictures with me. Anyone actually read my blog and have some input (tell me the numbers of the pictures you think I should include)? :-P

First time horse ownership, part II

The first part of this story is here, in case anyone missed it :-)

The new additions to my farm certainly added spice. Chester, Eddie, Molly, and the hogs quickly ate down the waist high grass in their pen. I ordered some movable electric net fencing so that I could start taking them around the yard a bit at a time to clean it up for me.

I wasn't done looking for full-sized horses, however. One night after work I drove my motorcycle to a horse rescue in Nebraska. The rescue had been located close to Omaha but had recently moved farther west in order to provide more land for the horses.

The lady who ran the rescue was overrun with ponies. Her heart was in the right place, but she took in way too many horses for one person to tend. She had feedlot rescues, owner-surrendered horses, abandoned ponies, permanently disabled "pasture pet only" horses, and neglect cases from surrounding counties. While there was hay and water for everyone, there were way too many horses and not enough people to handle them on a consistent basis. She did not personally train any of them, so very few actually rode. However, I was too naive to realize that training was an essential ingredient to the successful operation of a rescue.

Clearly annoyed that I had just gotten the mini farm and still wanted more horses, my boyfriend once again agreed to help me, and we discussed which of the horses we should adopt. I planned on adopting two, because horses are herd animals of course, and I didn't want a lonely pony feeling miserable by herself while I was gone to work all day. He wanted a gelding, but most of them had already been adopted out, leaving just a wide selection of mares.

I said I wanted the feedlot rescue sorrel mare named Jahzara, although I didn't tell him it was because I was secretly hoping she was pregnant. Many of the other mares rescued from the lot were pregnant and delivered absolutely adorable babies. In hindsight, it's very fortunate that Jazzy wasn't pregnant, because I would have been lost trying to deal with a newborn foal. The boyfriend said I should get the chestnut Arab mare (Phoenix), too. I had no objections.

We still didn't have the boyfriend's gelding. I met the geldings on the property, and the only one who hadn't been adopted was an ancient black Saddlebred boy with a bad case of swayback. He looked very rough, and I was very iffy about the possibility of that bowed back holding my not-so-light frame. I looked around more and met a spotted yearling colt. He was rather goofy looking, with a long white mane, big head, short thin neck, and legs too spindly for his pot-bellied body. They called him Baby. The little bay filly with him was called Treasure. She wasn't quite a year old and had a similar gawky appearance. She had a small white star in the middle of her dark forehead. They were both very friendly, if not appealing to the eyes.

I told the boyfriend that this gangly, ungelded colt was his only other option aside from the old man. "Well," he said, "if we get the colt we have to get another horse his age so that he has someone to grow up with." Being the horse-crazy woman I was, of course I didn't object to the suggestion of picking up ANOTHER horse. I was thrilled, ecstatic, beyond myself with excitement. I wasn't just getting ONE riding horse, I would be getting FOUR!!! Ah, naïveté...

So I had my horses picked out. I didn't have a trailer or truck. I arranged for the rescuer to deliver my horses to my house for $1/loaded mile. Altogether, I was spending a grand total of $550 along with trailering for four barely handled horses (none of them started under saddle). Altogether, I now would have SIX equine companions. Talk about jumping from the frying pan into the fire!!

To be continued...

The Krazy Kast of Kharacters: An introduction to my herd :-)

Since I talk about them all the time, I will introduce my little herd, from the oldest member to the youngest. I started out with four horses two and a half years ago (story to be told later). This past summer I sold my oldest mare, an Arabian named Phoenix (registered name Praire Park Gerri). Phoenix is 10 years old and bred for endurance. She is a sweetheart, but due to unfortunate circumstances in her past she never reached her full genetic potential for size. She is 14.2 hands high and very narrow (a hand is 4 inches for the reference of any nonequestrians, measured to the withers, or the shoulder, of the horse. The 0.2 means that she is 14 hands, 2 inches, or 14.2). She is really too small for me to ride. She has a lot of go, though, and the desire to please. Her new owner plans to condition her for endurance competitions and keep me up to date on her progress.

The oldest of my current horses is Jazzy, a grade Quarter Horse mare. Grade means that she's unregistered (again, for any non-horsey people who might desire to read this blog). She is around 5 - 7 years of age and about 15 hands tall. She is partially blind in one eye, and I'm not sure how much/little she can see out of that eye.

Zeplin is my pinto-Arabian gelding and one of only two boys on my property. He is about 97% Arabian with a tobiano coat from a long ago paint ancestor (tobiano coat patterns don't occur in purebred Arabians). He's a goofball, and he just loves to play! He will turn four in March. I hope he's not done growing UP, because I want him to reach 15 hands in height. Last time he was measured, back in September I think, he came in at about 14.2 hands. He still looks very boyish.

Calypso (Caly) is my youngest horse. She is a few months younger than Zeplin (born in July). She is half Arab/half Quarter Horse but unregistered. I'm trying to get her hardship registered with the Quarter Pony Association, which shouldn't be a problem, I just have to prove that she's pony size. She is about 14 hands tall, and I'm pretty sure she's done growing UP, she's just filling out now. I have her listed for sale, but it wouldn't break my heart if she stayed with me! I'm just concerned about the future possibility of having to board three horses. Two would be a lot easier.

I have several non-equine "herd" members, too. Molly the Nigerian Dwarf goat is approximately four and a half years old, maybe five. Her favorite pasttime is rubbing her horns on everything that doesn't move. They must be really itchy! (Side note: Wow! I had to really look to find a picture of her, and it's not recent or particularly good. I just don't photograph the goat!)

Then there is this kiddo, who thinks she's everyone else's boss. Quimby is my two year old (as of yesterday) English Shepherd. She is constantly smiling and always wants to be the center of attention. She's also very smart, or I would've never been able to teach her a single thing. I know less about dog training than I do about horse training, and that's not much!

Then we have the indoor "herd" members, my three cats. Chyornee is the oldest at ten. He's been through several moves with me, and he knows he's very special. He's also the only other male on the premises aside from Zeplin.

I adopted Koshka as a kitten when I moved to my house four and a half years ago. I think she's part Maine Coon, and she's a big girl! She's very vocal and has to be into everything. She's the boldest of my cats--not much phases her.

Kit Kit is the polar opposite of Koshka. She's a small, dainty slip of a cat, even at a year and a half. She's very skittish, and the slightest step her way could send her scurrying into hiding. She hates being picked up but loves to cuddle. I planned on her being "Quimby's kitten," but, alas, I'm a sucker for a cuddler!

That's it for now, but I'll have plenty more to say about all of them in the future. Looks like it's going to be a gorgeous weekend, so I'll be out enjoying it while it lasts. Happy Friday!!