A Lost Treasure Found

It sure has been cold lately.  So cold that I've started wearing long sleeve t-shirts at times, something unusual for this short sleeve t-shirt wearer.  This morning I opened a seldom used dresser drawer full of long sleeve shirts.  I really had no idea what shirts were there since it'd been years since any had been worn.  Pulling out a blue shirt, I barley noticed that it was an old endurance ride shirt. In passing, I thought it must have been from one of Del's rides & therefore 17-18 years old.  Still fairly new.

As I was getting ready to take a shower tonight, I finally really noticed the shirt I was wearing.  It was from the Comstock Endurance Ride.  That meant it was WRAFF'S shirt & 20 years old. Barely worn.  I'm SO glad I didn't paint today.  Or work on anything mechanical & oily.  How devastating to find a long, lost treasure only to ruin it. I held that shirt, remembering the day Wraff got it for me.  At 23 years old, he still hadn't grown up.  He was "on the muscle" as we started the ride as the sun came up.  Our ride picture is of him leaping over a curb as we crossed a road, me clinging to stay on.  I've never really liked the desert rides.  All the long, flat roads were never good for slowing my horse down. Wraff was in a "get on, hang on, & shut up" kind of mood that day.  As we flew across the desert, my underwear was rubbing me raw.  After 10 miles, I really didn't know how I was going to ride 40 more on a horse who thought he was a freight train.  So as we continued flying, I came upon an idea.  I knew I couldn't stop & get off because Wraff was too "hot" to let me back on.  I also knew I wasn't going to be able to slow him down & do what I needed to do.  So I just let my reins hang as I proceeded to rip my torturing underwear off.  All the time I was looking over a shoulder to make sure no one saw me.  Twenty years later I'm assuming that pair of panties, thrown into the sage brush, has blown away with the wind.

I'm not really sure how I'd forgotten other details of that ride.  Maybe being able to still visualize the sage brush episode so vividly had overshadowed everything else.  Looking at my shirt tonight, I had to look a few times to realize it said THIRD PLACE.  Really?  This mid to back of the pack rider was 3rd?  I have to say I KNOW there weren't only 3 riders because I was on the lookout riding through the sage brush because we'd passed so many early in the ride.  Guess I just forgot this little detail.  I shouldn't have been surprised though.  In my closet hangs a jacket that has only been worn twice.  It's from Comstock & was for First Heavyweight.  My shirt is now in the wash.  Once it's dry, it'll go back into the drawer.  Maybe in another 20 years I'll bring it out again to remember the day I tore off my underwear as my horse ran across the desert.

Strange how A Lost Treasure Found can bring back so many memories.

  

Some Days

So I go out to trim a new horse this morning. 27 year old arab mare. How hard can that be? Not hard at all unless she's a fire breathing dragon. Wow! I managed to nip the toes off her front feet & called it a good day. Can't believe I got that much done without getting stomped & trampled. YIKES! What a pistol. Hope I have that much piss & vinegar (like where did that phrase come from anyway?) when I'm her equivalent age.

Then off to the bank to deposit this week's checks. I always just zip through the ATM for speed & convenience. Yeah, not so speedy today. I fed six checks into the 10 check ATM. And I waited, and waited, and waited... That damn ATM BROKE! So I call the 800 problem line & get the regular bank recorded messages, as well as a message telling me all available representatives were busy with a 20 minute wait. WTF!!! So I stormed into the bank, hoping the ATM wouldn't spit my checks out on the ground while I was gone. Fortunately for all inside the bank, the manager was able to retrieve my checks from the damn machine. Deposit complete! Only 30 minutes wasted.

Horses & dogs needed me to run to Tractor Supply for feed. Like a dutiful, slave of a mom, my next errand was a feed run. It wasn't until I had my cart loaded with 200 lbs, that it started to act like a broken winged bird. Stupid thing would only go left, even when I was trying to go straight. At least I'm in TSC enough that the guys know me by name so we could all laugh together as it took 2 of us to get that cart to the register. I never have the employees carry my things out to the truck, but today I said YES! when asked if i wanted carry out. I couldn't get home fast enough, hoping to beat any other calamity.

Next on the DANG IT list was the message that my new, excitedly awaited for puppy is still in OH. Mother Nature is NOT cooperating at all. Poor Elsie can't get home until the heat index drops to 85*. Me, I'm freaking out. What if the airlines looses her when she finally gets a flight? What if she doesn't get fed or watered for HOURS? What if she's scared? What if my truck breaks down on the way to the airport? IMPORTANT NOTICE: Everyone is going to be on my speed dial when Elsie's in the air & I'm on my way to airport 4 hours early. Giving myself & all friends enough time to get me to the airport on time, no matter what happens. grin emoticon This puppy is going to be met with happy tears & open arms. Many thanks to Lisa Minnick for reassuring me that Elsie is going to handle her trip much better than her new mom. LOL

What else for today, you ask. My good friend Rhed Mares came over bringing sweet treats, complete with chocolate. YAY! And she promised to have her phone on standby just in case I should call while in route to the airport one of these days soon. lol

Come on Mother Nature, please be kind & NOT make me wait 'til Halloween.

My Love of GWPs: I'm now a dog person

As my heart is breaking, I think back to my first dog.  Oh we had dogs when I was a kid, but they weren't mine.  They were just my responsibility because my mother didn't want to clean up after them.  She'd bring them home & announce that I had a new dog.  Great!  I actually grew up hating & resenting dogs.  And then I got my first dog as an adult.

In 1985, I was out riding my horse through the foothills of San Juan Capistrano when I came across a puppy on the trail.  I recognized the puppy as belonging to a pair of dumped/gone feral dogs.  The mother was a Doberman & the father was a German Wirehaired Pointer.  I'd watched them from afar many times as I rode.  I'd even been growled at on a number of occasions.  When I saw that puppy on the opposite hill, I rode over & looked around.  The parent dogs were nowhere in sight.  I got off my horse, scooped the puppy up & put her in the opening in the front of my saddle, & got out of there.  As I rode back to the stable with that flea bitten little thing on my saddle, I thought "if I were to keep this puppy I'd call her Pitiful Pearl".  I had NO intention of keeping the puppy.  Her first meal was a pickle that dropped from my sandwich.  The poor thing was so hungry she literally wolfed it down.  I took her to a local vet & he said she was only 3-4  weeks old & too young to be without her mother.  Great!  Now what was I going to do?  Well I took her home, gave her a meal & settled her in for the night.  Not a peep out of her.  The next day I found her a home with a cashier from Ralph's Grocery Store.  I was SO glad I no longer had a puppy.

Or so I thought...For 2 days I thought about that puppy.  Worried about her really.  Finally I couldn't stand it & I stopped by Ralph's to ask how she was doing.  The gal said she had to get rid of her because she cried all night & the landlord was mad.  I was so relieved, & yes, even happy.  I picked up Pitiful Pearl & brought her home.  She was the best puppy.  Never cried at night, no accidents in the house.  I think she knew what it would take to stay with me.  She became the love of my life.  Pearl went everywhere with me.  She even went to work with me.  She was my riding companion & went to endurance rides with me.  She was never far from my side.  I took her to a puppy obedience class & she won the off-leash competition.  The trainer assured me that she was a typical GWP & none of her Dobie showed through, other than her color.  I have some great memories & stories of Pearl.  Like the time she was staying the day in a tent while a friend & I rode a 50 mile endurance ride.  It wouldn't have been a problem except a storm came in.  The wind was howling, it was raining & hailing.  Other friends finished before we did & rescued Pearl as the tent was trying to blow away.  But when she ran under the truck, my poor friend was afraid she was going to have to tell me she'd lost my dog.  LOL  Or the time a friend & I finally discovered why my friend always had poison oak on just her right arm.  It seems Pearl was going through poison oak to play in the irrigation ditch by my house.  My friend is highly allergic to poison oak & as we would trailer out to ride, Pearl sat between us, leaning against my friend's right arm.  LOL  Pearl was with me for 14 1/2 years.  She taught me to love a dog.  Pearl was my light & I will always miss my Forever Friend.

1991 was the year I would bring home my 2nd dog.  My horse shoer had bred his Rottweiler & offered to give me a puppy.  I had intended to get a filly from him, but ended up with a puppy.  When the litter was 15 days old, I picked out the biggest, red (yes, a red Rottweiler) female.  She looked so much like a little bear that I went on the hunt for a bear name.  I ended up calling her Chinook, after one of the bear cubs in Santa And The Three Bears.  I brought Chinook home at 4 weeks because her mother stopped feeding.  Her very first weekend was spent at an endurance ride with Pearl & me. Oh was Chinook a challenge.  By 5 weeks of age, she was growling & snapping & I was worried I'd have to put her down for being aggressive.  As luck, or not luck, would have it, I suffered a severe eye injury about that time so I couldn't go to work.  A friend loaned me a book How To Be Your Dog's Best Friend.  It's written by some Monks in New York.  I did what they did with their puppies & by the end of a week, Chinook & I had a breakthrough.  She because a wonderful, loyal companion.  I eventually stopped taking Pearl & Chinook to endurance rides because by the time Chinook was 2 years old, she was too aggressive to be out among all the people & horses.  I would take both girls with me when I traveled to visit my folks 500 miles away.  Every morning my dad would walk his dog in the park & I'd take Pearl & Chinook.  It was fun times.  Years later my dad would still laugh about the time Chinook wouldn't let him in his own house.  She had him cornered in the garage & he was beating on the wall to get my or my mom's attention.  We just thought he was hammering something.  LOL  I did finally rescue him.  In 2002, Chinook was diagnosed with bone cancer in a leg.  The prognosis was for a couple weeks to a month.  For eight months I loved her every day because I knew we were on borrowed time.  She was such a wonderful dog & I still cherish the 12 years we had together.  She loved all things baby & would guard the foals.  She'd even let the lambs try to nurse on her.  She was a gentle soul with the little ones, but a fierce protector when she felt the need.  She did teach me that the Rottweiler really isn't the breed for me.  While I loved her dearly & would do it all again with her, the breed itself is just too stubborn & bullheaded for me.  My sweet Chinook rests next to Pearl.

January 15, 2000, just 15 days after losing my Sweet Pearl, I brought Jade home.  Jade was a 3 1/2 year old, Shepherd cross.  She came from a rescue, turned in by her military family because they could no longer keep her.  I was looking for a dog to be a friend & companion to Chinook, who was moping after the loss of Pearl.  I wanted a young, large breed, female.  Jade was older than I wanted but, from the instant we met, she immediately "took" to me.  The rescue owner cautioned me that she'd try to run if she got loose.  Well she did run as I let her out of the kennel.  She ran straight to my truck &amp waited for me to open the door.  Jade had found me.  I called the military family (their # was on Jade's tags) to let them know that Jade was going to be a ranch dog with acres to roam & that she'd always have a home with me.  Such a wonderful, loyal, faithful, dog.  She & Chinook didn't always get along, but a bond grew between them.  They had each others backs & were a great guard dog pair.  Jade was the dog that my mom liked best.  She would have stolen her if she'd been short haired.  A dog who had never been around cats, she took to my 18 year old Eli like he was her baby.  She'd wash that old cat's face & he'd lay between her legs.  She was a cat killer to any stray, but Eli was hers.  Jade became known as Ma's Dog.  My dad & I joked that no matter what naughty deed was done, Jade did it.  LOL  My mom defended her unquestioningly.  Honestly, Jade NEVER did a naughty thing.  At just over 15 years, Jade's old body said it was time.  My wonderful, wonderful Jade lays at Chinook's feet.

In April 2000, as I was looking at the bulletin board of a local feed store, I came across a month old ad for two free GWP puppies.  I was so excited but knew they'd already be gone.  I rushed home & called.  Only one puppy was left, & it was a 4 month old female.  I'm sure I was speeding as I drove to get her.  I was instantly in love.  Maddison, aka Maddi, was the cutest puppy ever.  I scooped her up & she rode home with her head on my shoulder, just like Pearl had done for all those years.  Her mannerisms were Pearl, & she captured my heart before we ever got home.  She was actually born just days before I lost Pearl.  Could there be a connection?  Jade & Chinook were both too old to play with a growing puppy so Maddi was bored.  One time a friend called to tell me that he'd gotten a call from his friend, telling him that my brown dog was across the street in a field.  My friend hurried over, just in time to see Maddi dragging a dear carcass across the street & under my neighbor's tree.  My folks bought me a kennel to keep Maddi safe while I was at work.  In 2001, my folks bought the property next to me & Maddi began to spend her days with my dad.  I'd had my property fenced with higher fence so she no longer spent time in the kennel.  She was the funniest dog.  She'd sit in the horses' water trough & watch the workman come & go as my folks' garage was put in.  In 2003, Maddi became sick.  That first day she jumped the 6' fence into my folks' yard before they got up in the morning (something she'd never done before).  She was laying on the porch, under their bedroom window.  Maddi was really sick.  She had a mass in her abdomen that we initially thought was a foreign object.  Unfortunately surgery revealed a rare, fast growing tumor.  A few days later I had to let my heart dog go.  She was only 3 1/2.  To this day I can still hear my voice calling her.  Maddi, Maddi, Maddi.  And even after all these years, writing this reduces me to tears.  I will always love my Maddi.  She lies between Chinook & my cat Eli.

Maddi's death was devastating & I never thought I'd get over her.  The next morning I drove across town to sit in the driveway of where I had gotten her.  The yard was different & a pitbull was tied to a tree.  As I sat in my truck sobbing, a man walked out to ask what I was doing.  Between sobs I explained to the guy, who turned out to be the brother of the guy I got Maddi from, what had happened.  I asked if his brother still had GWPs & he pointed to a kennel across the drive.  There was Maddi's mother with a litter of 2 week old puppies.  Full siblings to Maddi.  The poor guy had a sobbing woman in his drive & I'm sure he was worried I wouldn't leave.  He took me to the kennel & told me take my pick of the puppies.  He'd tell his brother Lee that he'd given me a puppy.  I knew what I wanted.  I wanted the little runt who was a liver just like Maddi.  I drove home crying both sad & happy tears.  My mom convinced me that I should get 2 puppies & that she'd buy me the second.  So I called & told Lee that I wanted another female puppy.  Three weeks later I went to get my puppies.

Jenni & Keeli

Jenni & Me

When I arrived to get my puppies, Lee had all the females sorted from the males.  I had my Keeli (Celtic for Beautiful) in my arms, looking at the others.  Out of the pack a chubby little liver & white female crawled onto my foot.  Jenni (Celtic for White Wave because she had a white streak on her head) had chosen me.  Once again I was in love, head over heals in love with my GWP puppies.  My mom could never remember Keeli's name so called them Jenni & The Other One, T.O. for short.  In Sept of 2003, my mom went into a nursing home.  I can still see the tiny Jenni jumping on the back of the wheelchair on the day my mom left her home for the last time.  A year later I was telling my mom how Keeli had killed a baby squirrel & slapped my dad in the face, proud of her catch.  My dad had been leaning over when Keeli surprised him with her prize.  That was my mom's last smile as she passed the next day.  Jenni & Keeli were the best puppies ever.  When tiny, they spent the days in the kennel while I was at work.  My dad would come to my place to feed them lunch.  Sometimes he'd take them up to his house & he'd clothespin a ribbon on the kennel gate so I'd know he had them.  That faded ribbon is still clothespinned to the kennel all these years later. Jenni gave my dad quite the scare when she crawled under the jasmine & fell asleep.  He thought he was going to have to tell me he'd lost my puppy.  What great ranch dogs.  Riding on the quads with me, zooming around the pastures.  When I was at work they'd both spend the day helping my dad around his place, playing with his dog Zoey.  Jenni & Keeli lit up my life.  I'd watched Keeli run so fast that she'd run over the top of a squirrel.  We called her our hummingbird on speed.  LOL  GWPs are water dogs.  Even when it wasn't all that hot, they'd be in the water troughs.  I even bought them a short one as their pool.  Jenni was momma's baby, my velcro dog.  She was never out of sight & preferred to be everywhere with me.  Such a sensitive girl who was easily traumatized.  She really preferred no one to visit, & I'm sure she'd have been happier as an only child.  Keeli was the carefree of the two.  Independent & always happy.  Even today, little deaf Keeli is happy & busy.  A week or so before their 12th birthday, Jenni was lame.  X-rays & a bone biopsy revealed osteosarcoma.  I was devastated because I knew our time together was going to be shortened.  I knew all I could do was love Jenni everyday while I could.  I honestly thought I'd have a few months, not just a few weeks.  On Mon Jun 22 ,2015, Jenni met me at the gate when I got home.  She was happy & bouncy, wanting her biscuit.  As she bounced up the back steps, she tripped & broke her leg.  OMG  I couldn't believe it as I heard her cry.  I called the vet in tears, knowing our time was up.  All I could do was give her pain meds & sedation while we waited.  I cried for hours.  I held my beloved Jenni while she went to sleep.  My heart breaking.  Keeli is as lost without Jenni as I.  Jenni had been her ears.  No one meets me at the gate when I get home because Keeli can't hear me drive up.  It was Jenni who would jump up & down, vibrating the ground or deck to wake Keeli.  Every night at feeding time, it was Jenni who would run up to Keeli & then to the ranger so Keeli would know it was time for a ride.  

Keeli

Now I have to get Keeli's attention & motion her to come with me.  We are both lost & heart broken. I can't breathe & feel like my heart will never stop breaking.  I don't know how to go on without my beloved Jenni.  My Trauma Queen.  Twelve years isn't enough time. Jenni lies next to Jade & at the feet of her older sister Maddi.  Keeli & I miss you Jenni, & we will always love you.  
  










I don't know why GWPs are MY breed.  I just know that they fill my heart to over flowing.  I might never have another because I don't think my heart can take the pain.  But because of them, my heart has been opened to all dogs & I've had some wonderful ones in my life.  I still have my dad's dog, Zoey, a wonderful & loving pitty.  And my San, another rescue dog who has brought me love & happiness.  But honestly, it's my GWPs who have defined the dog person I have become.  For 30 years, they have filled my heart.  It's hard to imagine my life without one.  I don't know how long I'll have my Keeli, but I'll treasure her every day & hope for a few more years with my beloved GWP.


Going back through my FaceBook posts, this is from April 22, 2015, just days before Jenni was diagnosed with osteosarcoma.  It just seems fitting to copy this here as it is just a continuation of my love of GWPs.  Today, looking back 8 weeks, it's almost prophetic that my heartstrings were tugged for Jenni's older sibling, all the while not knowing that I would soon be losing my sweet Jenni.

Sometimes it's a very small world. Even more so if you have German Wirehaired Pointers, or so it's been for me. Fifteen years ago I brought home a 5 month old GWP puppy who would be the light of my life for 3 years. When I lost Maddi, this hysterically sobbing woman ended up in the driveway of her breeder. In a kennel across the driveway was her mother with a litter of 2 week old full siblings. Two of those wonderful puppies came home with me a few weeks later. For the last 12 years, Jenni & Keeli have been my heart dogs. Two years ago I met someone who had a male GWP. As we talked, we realized our dogs were littermates.  At that time I learned that the breeder of my beloved GWPs had passed away 2 years earlier.  Today, as I was getting Jenni out of the truck to go in to see the vet, a guy in a truck next to me asked about her. As we talked he told me about his 15 year GWP female who was his heart dog. We talked about future puppies & wondered where we'd get them. Then we talked about where we got our puppies all those years ago. If you've guessed right, you'll have guessed that his old girl was a littermate to my Maddi, therefore a full sister to Jenni & Keeli. My heartstrings were tugged pretty hard today. Thinking of Maddi, feeling sad for the guy who knew he was close to losing his girl, & worrying about Jenni's diagnosis. But as hard as some of those emotions were on the drive home, I know I've been so very fortunate to have found my GWP puppies, & to have fleetingly entered into the lives of their littermates' lives. A connection shared. heart emoticon heart emoticon heart emoticon my GWPs

Happy 10th Birthday DreamCatcher Rabulaun

Happy Birthday Launi!

It sure has been a long, challenge filled 10 years.  It's hard to believe it's been that long since you came into this world.  You were such a big colt with so many problems.  A month premature, knees like jello, & so windswept your hind legs were crossed. Then your umbilical cord hemorrhaged & you had your first trailer ride at just a few hours old.  And you were HEAVY!  It took a lot of muscle to hold you up so you could try nursing.  Your poor under developed legs just couldn't hold you up.  How many times did I milk your dam so I could bottle feed you?  I know I overfed you because just look at how big you are today.  LOL

You were PERFECT.  You were all that I'd hoped for when I bred your parents.  I got my colt.  I still chuckle when I remember the vet at UCD asking me how I'd kept you alive when you were born.  She had no idea how much I wanted you & that losing you was NOT an option. I even refinanced the ranch so you could have all the surgeries to fix your legs.  You were definitely my drug baby.  With all the drugs to keep your dam from miscarrying you, and all the anesthesia from multiple surgeries, you were a twitchy colt who's skin would crawl when touched.  But you were mine & I loved you.

You've always been so much fun, putting up with all the crazy things I do.  Using you as a ring toss pole, & dressing you for all occasions.  It was so thrilling to ride you for the first time.  So big & bold, so full of confidence, you've always been an exciting, adrenalin rush to ride.  I didn't say you've always been good to ride.  You sure have given me some white knuckle, please let me not fall off rides.  But after every please don't let me die ride, once we were safely back at the trailer, I've always looked forward to our next ride.  You sure have a bag of naughty tricks.  From bucking, rearing, head slinging & even your "let's run away today" episode, I wouldn't have missed a minute of our time on the trails.  It was so thrilling to finish your 50 mile ride at Camp Far West.  Not only did I survive, I had the time of my life.  Well, ok I'll admit I was DONE & totally worn out, but you were ready for more.  Bright eyed & barely the worse for the wear. I envisioned many more, exciting rides in our future.

Looking back, I do know that you're one of my "saved foals".  So many times I've felt we were on borrowed time.  Any every time you've pulled through.  It was fortunate that I listened to my instincts when I had you gelded at UCD as a surgical case.  I'd have lost you had you been gelded in the field.  Gelding you was the best thing I could have done for you.  You're so much happier living a herd life. You were worth giving up on my dream of you being a stallion. You were such a challenge & I knew you wouldn't be safe if something should happen to me.  Thank you for the beautiful daughters you gave me before you were gelded.  2014, the year of tears.  I truly thought our borrowed time was over.  You were so sick, even the vet thought I was losing you.  My heart was breaking.  How could I lose my heart horse?  I wasn't if I had anything to do about it. What a long, hard time those months were through winter, spring, & into summer.  Then you were well.  Your bloodwork was once again normal.  Were there residual ill effects?  Only time would tell.  Then the day came that I got on you.  Oh what a wonderful feeling.  We went out on the trail & you were back.  I just wanted to wave my arms in the air & squeal in delight as we trotted down the trail.  Once again I began planning our endurance future.  But wait, there was a day when your back was sore.  After chiropractic & acupuncture with no real relief, I had your back x-rayed.  Remember that fall a few years ago?  It's come back to haunt us.  You have arthritis & bony changes on your spine.  There's even a hint of an old fracture.  Who'd have guess that running & playing & falling that day would end our riding time together?  I don't know what's in store for us now.  It's very possible we'll never go for another ride.  We're going to have to think of other ways to enjoy our time together.  What other horse will put up with costumes, balloons, hula-hoops, & me?  You are my heart horse & I love you.  No matter what, we'll be together as long as borrowed time will allow.

Happy Birthday Moose Baby, aka BIG BRAT!  And here I come with your carrots.
 

 
 

The BIG BRAT Strikes Again

I just aged 10 years this morning. I went out to check on Launi, who's been lethargic the last few days. He also had a swollen eye last night. I whistle & call, but he doesn't come down the pasture. So I walk up the pasture & don't see him. Faye comes down by herself. I still don't see him & I'm almost at the top. I start looking at the ground to see if he's down. I don't see Launi. By then I was starting to panic & starting to cry. I don't see him anywhere. So I look around the rock/boulder pile & still no Launi. Did someone steal him? No, how could any one get to the back of the landlocked property? And he'd never go over or through the fence. OMG, he's dead under the trees. I start searching through the eucalyptus bushes, knowing he couldn't fit under them. Sobbing & calling his name. And then I see the BIG BRAT. He's hiding behind an oak bush (more bush than tree), peeking around the corner, ears up & eyes bright. OMG now I could kill him for scaring me into an old woman! He saunters (yes he can saunter) over & nudges me. Doesn't he know I don't have 9 lives? He follows me down the pasture, trying to bump my back the whole way. And he KNOWS that's unacceptable behavior. WHY do I love this BIG RED BRAT?!!

To Rear Or Not To Rear

Earlier today some people were talking about horses who rear.  Some said "once a flipper, always a flipper".  Others suggested doing a lot of ground work.  Still others advised getting a trainer involved.  Then someone mentioned breaking a raw egg over the horse's head as it reared.  All this got me to thinking about a few "confirmed rearers" that I've known.

In 1984, I saw a gelding at the stable where I boarded my mare rearing & flipping over with a so-called trainer.  I say so-called because she was unaffectionately known as Big Bird.  She had the gelding in a pelham & a chambone, trying to force him "into frame".  This was an 11 year old horse who was unbroke & she was attempting to get him started.  I really liked the looks of the horse & thought to myself that I wouldn't mind owning him.  Be VERY careful what you wish for because just a couple months later, he was mine.  Still not successfully under saddle, I knew I had a challenge ahead of me.  In answer to anything that gelding didn't like, he'd rear right on up & over.  I put him in a snaffle & had a little less problem, but he'd still go up if he got mad or had a different opinion of what we should be doing.  One day after a flip-over going down the side of a hill, I got desperate & switched him to an old hackamore I had in the trailer.  That horse NEVER reared again.  He went on be the greatest horse I've ever ridden.          

A LOT of years ago (45 I think) I had an OTTB gelding who would rear. He'd stand on his hind legs, pawing the air. I tried breaking the warm water balloon over his head. Didn't work. Turning his head around didn't work. Pulling him over didn't work to fix the problem either. The old Englishman who owned the stable handed me a short piece of hose one day & told me to tap my horse's poll the next time he reared. He said to keep it up until the horse finally dropped to his knees to get away from the tapping. He said once a horse was "dropped" in this way, they'd never rear again. Mind you this wasn't a hard hitting session. Just a continuous tap, tap, tap. Not easy to do as you try to stay in the saddle & follow the slinging head. I'm sure I was all smiles as that gelding finally dropped to his knees. I stopped tapping & the next thing I knew that danged horse had not only gone straight up onto his hind legs, he'd smacked me in the face & broke my cheekbone. But you know, that was his last rear. For whatever reason, he really did never rear again while I owned him.

He was a chestnut quarter horse who'd been purchased as a young girl's first horse.  He was NOT a kid's horse.  I don't know how many times he reared & threw his young rider before I started riding him.  He was an ornery thing, having temper tantrums if he didn't get his way.  Those temper tantrums were usually rearing, sometimes adding a buck as his front feet hit the ground.  After a couple of months, he was settling down & working fairly well so his young owner was allowed to start riding him again.  It didn't take long for him to revert back to the rearing beast he'd been.  He knew his rider was no match for his temper tantrums.  Once again I became his rider.  I finally got tired of being nice, trying to work through his rearing.  He reared on a bad day & I pulled him all the way over.  He got up stunned & I was hopeful that was the only lesson he needed.  Nope.  A few days later he went up again.  I pulled his head around until he fell to his side.  He just didn't care.  On any given day, whenever he was in a "snit", he'd rear.  After another month of trying to get him over his bad habit, it was decided he was never going to be suitable as a young girl's horse.  He was traded to a horse dealer for an older, kid safe horse.  Last I heard, the dealer had some young cowboys riding him.  He was working cattle well, but would still occasionally rear.

Horses rear to get away from pain or fear.  For some, it becomes a learned habit to get away from anything they perceive to be unpleasant.  With luck, some horses are fortunate enough to find a rider who's willing to work things through until a solution is found.  These horses go on to be successful mounts.  For the few who are hardcore problems (sadly they're man made problems), not only is their future in danger but they're a danger to all who dare ride them.  

To rear or not rear?  If only people wouldn't put horses in a position where they feel rearing is their only way out.                

Reflections & Goals

It's not very often that I allow a reality check to rein in my horse addiction. Today turned out to be an exception & the realistic me won out over the impulsive, horseaholic me. 

I absolutely love the broodmares & foals. In early 2012 I told myself no more breeding because I NEEDED & WANTED to get back on the endurance trail. I set a couple goals for myself & they didn't include breeding. Well we all know I failed because I did breed a mare & have my 2013 filly, Ryn, here to prove that. I did get back on the trail in 2012 when Ryn's big, literally BIG, 1/2 brother went to his first 50 mile ride. It had been my first since 2005, & it felt awesome to be on the trail on my heart horse. No more breeding was looking good. Then early 2014 arrived, with Launi ready to ride. Or so I thought. He was in shape & going so well. Then in Feb he got sick. VERY sick. I didn't think he was going to make it, & neither did the vet. As the months went by, the realization that I'd probably never see either of my goals met had me thinking about foals again. If I can't ride, I may as well have a foal, right? I kept up my search for a riding horse, but in the back of my mind I knew I was also looking closely at pedigrees. What if I found that perfect mare to breed? Then I started to actually openly look for a broodmare. Launi got well & after 9 months, I was able to ride him. It was a terrifying, adrenaline rush because I know he's too big & strong for me at this stage in my life. Oh but what an AWESOME feeling being back on MY horse.

A couple weeks ago my good pal Shara Llewellyn sent me info on a mare. Such a good friend. Just tempt me with a mare who's pedigree I love. A mare who'd fit right in with my herd. But since she was only a light riding horse, she couldn't double as one of my goal seeking horses. I was going to stay on track & didn't pursue Shara's evil plot. Until today. Yes, today someone else posted about the mare & got me to thinking about breeding again. Yeah, everyone egging me on got me all excited about what a fabulous foal I could have in 2016. I went outside to work in the barn & think about what I was potentially going to do. Should I get a broodmare & give up on my riding plans? I was "this" close to saying yes to a really nice broodmare. 

Then I went to help a friend with an injured & down horse. A horse who I knew 20 years ago when I was riding Wraff endurance. As I knelt by Mr B's head, talking to him while my friend called the vet, I was telling him what a great horse he'd been; how wonderful it was to have ridden next to him when I'd been riding the greatest horse I've ever ridden; & how awesome it was to come back into his life in his later years. It was in those moments of memories going down the trail that I realized I really do NEED to ride. It was in those moments that I knew I wasn't going to bring home a broodmare; that my 2013 filly, Ryn, is my last foal.

Mr B, give Wraff a back scratch for me. I'm sure he'll enjoy reacquainting with an old friend.