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A tribute to my horses and my friends.
The beginning of this journey, somewhat starts long before I was born, but I won’t get into that part of it. This trip really has three phases: Phase one - My Greatest Gift, Phase two - Old Friends and Phase 3 - New Friends.
As I said before, I won’t start at the very beginning, but I will lead off with Phase one - My Greatest Gift.
When I was three years old (quite a number of years ago, but I won’t say just how many), my dad had a horse whose name was Honey, an Appaloosa, that he bred to our friends Appaloosa stallion, Smokey. Thus, a filly was born - my baby Brandy, not a spot on her, a beautiful little girl. We were living in Charleswood at the time and kept the horses at our friends place in the area. My dad gave me my girl, my very first horse. The same year I received yet another surprise, a baby brother. Hard to remember which one I liked best.
The following year, my dad bred his mare, again to the same stallion. Apache was the colts name and my dad’s friends kept him for the stud fee for my horse Brandy. The next year yet another colt (all full brothers and sister), Cheyenne was born and given to my brother. We kept him. Apache was a beautiful colt, with just a blanket over his rump, alas, Cheyenne was not so fortunate, he was born to look just like his mom, all white with brown main and tail.
That was a terrible yet great year all at the same time. As my baby was in the corral, some dogs came in and ran her into the fence where she strangled. I am only relieved that I was too little to remember, and I thank god for that. My dad’s friends felt so bad that they gave Apache back to me. Who quickly, quickly became MY BOY. My dad had me up and being led around on Honey when I was 4 years old, the same year, my dad, myself and Honey were in a parade. One of the sad things about this time, is the fact that I don’t remember, the only memory of this is through pictures, so remember, if you have young children starting to ride, please, please take pictures, in case their memory turns out like mine.
Accordingly, this brings us to the second Phase of my story - Old Friends.
As my boys grew up, we knew that we didn’t want them to remain stallions, so we had them gelded by an old friend of my dads, Art Butler, whom my dad had known for numerous years (Many years before I was born). My dad halter broke and green broke Apache (Patches) and then Art fully trained him for Pleasure and for harness. Art trained Cheyenne from start to finish. What a team! A couple of years later, when my dad was building our new house, he decided that we should keep the horses at Art’s ranch just outside of the city, since he was to busy to take proper care of them while building. After our house was done, Art kept the horses over the winters for us, using them for hayrides and weddings and such. Ah, I remember the winters spent out at the ranch, going for sleigh rides (how come I always ended up getting thrown off?) and having bonfires afterwards. In the summers, Art would bring the boys back. They were inseparable. Couldn’t really be without each other. As I got a little older, my dad taught me to ride (he says I didn’t much of need his help, most of it came natural) and to respect my horse. After all, you never know when that little blade of grass might be scary to him. I thank you dad.
As the years went by, I joined 4H, but it was very hard to go out on rides when you knew Cheyenne was kicking holes in the barn. Some of you may recognize these names from one of M.E. (Bunny) Eastveld’s stories, but I will get to that later. Cheyenne did not like to be without his big bro, to give an example, I went out riding one day on Patches and we put Cheyenne out in an empty pasture that wasn’t fenced. We hooked Chey up to a long chain that was attached to two big tractor tires that we staked to the ground with a long iron pole. Chey was fine when it was the both of them, but as I was riding down the road, what do I see, but Cheyenne coming down the road dragging those tires. I guess the big strong boy was scared out there without his big brother. Another trick that he liked to pull was rolling under the fence and coming up to the back deck and banging his hoof on it. I don’t know if he was trying to do this to say “Hello, let me in” or if it just to let us know he was there. My boys, my sucks! But I love em!
My brother never really got into horses, just mechanics, why he couldn’t do both I don’t know, I did. He decided to sell Cheyenne. What was going to happen to him I thought? The guy that I was going out with at the time decided to buy him and give him to me. After all, they were my boys. Who did I run to when I was upset, who did I run to when I was mad at my parents, who did I run to when things didn’t go right? My boys. I would stand out in the pasture, with my arms around one of their necks and talk, and cry and figure things out. My best friends. They were the greatest. Patches was so calm, that if he was laying out in the sun, I could get on his back. So calm, that if when it was time to bring them in from out in the unfenced field, who had to walk back? I just jumped on his back with only a halter and lead rope. Course he also knew that it was feeding time. They came by just calling their names.
Well, as I got into my early twenties and moved out, I didn’t get to spend much of my time with them and I was too busy with my life, that my dad decided to give them to the ranch. I didn’t get out to see them as much as I should have. I had gotten married and had a baby and that took most of my time. It shouldn’t have, but you can’t undo what has already been done. Art's son Les and Bunny soon took over the ranch.
On to Phase three - New Friends
I don’t know what I would have done without Les and Bunny. Even though we gave them the horses, when I did go out to see them, Les and Bunny still called them mine. It was hard seeing them getting older, but at least they were together. For my daughters fifth birthday, Les brought the boys into the city for a buggy ride for the kids. Well, you should have seen the people coming out of their houses. Horses? In the city? YES, and I’m glad we did it because, not long after, we got the dreaded phone call. Patches was fully blind and not doing well. But being that Patches looked after Cheyenne (or so he thought) for all of those years, it was Cheyenne’s turn to look after his brother. When he saw Patch going close to the fence, wouldn’t you know it, he would get in between the fence and Patch to make sure he didn’t get hurt. Well, we all went down to say good-bye. THE ABSOLUTE HARDEST DAY OF MY LIFE. And I know that it was just as hard for Bunny and Les. Even now, a little over a year that we put them down, if that certain song comes on the radio that was playing on that fateful day, I loose it. Doesn’t matter where I am. I guess with time it will get better.
And yes, even though Cheyenne was not as bad as his brother, we put them both down at the same time. For two reasons I guess: number one - for Cheyenne’s sake - so that he wouldn’t have to be by himself and number two - for our sake - so that we wouldn’t have to do the same to Cheyenne in a little while, for we felt that after Patches was gone and Cheyenne was by himself, he would probably loose the will to live. It sounds a little selfish, but I did not want my horse to go through that. A month before it was the one year anniversary of my beloved boys going out to the giant grazing pasture in the sky, I went to the ranch to put flowers in their pasture where they used to roam. As I stood out there, feeling sad and crying, I looked up to see my fiance Dave coming towards me with tears in his eyes. Not because he missed my boys, because he really didn’t know them, but because he knew I was hurting. It was then that I knew I did the right thing.
As I came back up to the barn, Bunny was outside. She asked me if I thought it was time to climb back up in the saddle. I was hesitant. Was I being a traitor to my boys? NO, I think they would have been glad to see me doing one of the things I enjoy most in life. So up I went onto Justin, Bunny’s personal horse. I had put it to the back of my mind how good it felt up there. Well, I kept going back to the ranch, even got my fiance to go riding, now he loves it too. Just after Bunny had her knee surgery, we went into the barn. Here, in my horses old stall, stood Rusty, a beautiful young Quarter horse/Standard bred cross that needed help. He had a stifle injury and was having muscles spasms. Was it fate? Was it that he needed help? Or was it the fact that I am a sucker for a good looking horse? I don’t know and I guess I really don’t care. I started going out to the ranch 3 or 4 times a week and massaging his butt and guess what, he’s pretty much almost 100% now. He’s green broke and I’ve been up on him twice now and putting a little bit of time into him.
I go out to the ranch about once a week now and all I can say is: Rusty, you better watch out ‘cus I’m back in the saddle and boy have we got some training to do in the Spring. I have even gotten my daughter out there and she has been doing the massaging to a little filly (that doesn’t need it, but my daughter thinks she is helping her out) and Amanda starts her lessons in the spring. I just hope she has the love for it that I do.
So here is a toast to horses and to old friends and new!
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