Horse Tales

   After Buck had gone from my life, there was another wonderful horse to come along. He was a beautiful yellow color with a white mane & tail. His name was "Rocky" and he belonged to another long-time friend of my mom's. 

When it was time to begin first grade, there were so many of us at that age, that the Elementary School chose to have half-day school. My time to go to school was in the morning. It was still a long walk down that lane, past where Buck had lived, down the long hill to the bus stop. I was a little older and did much better than when I was 4 or so.

One day, I was walking home after a long 4 hours at school and saw some hoofprints on the gravel road. HOOFPRINTS?   That meant a horse had been there for sure. I followed along as they took me further up the lane and turned into my house. 

Oh wow! A horse had been at my house. Who was this horse? What did it look like? Who owned it and ridden it to My House??  Who did this while I was at school??? I was so excited.

I ran as fast as I could up the hill to our house, dashed inside, and asked my mom "WHO rode the Horse here???"

''It was my friend, Martha, Kristine , you remember meeting her once?''

I hadn't a clue that my mom's friend actually owned a HORSE!!  I had to think about this so I got changed into 'play clothes' ( those are the clothes that are too worn out to use for anything else.) and dashed outside to see just where the Horse had been. It had been tied to the giant oak tree and I could see where it had nipped off some of the leaves. I squatted down and put my hand open wide inside his hoof print. That was some kind of Big hoof print to me. I followed those tracks where that horse had walked going back home. Once they got into the woods, I couldn't see the hoof prints any longer.  Turning around and sad at having missed a chance to see a horse, I walked home. 

One Saturday morning I had been outside playing with some of the neighbors and I stopped.

 "Listen!" I whispered.

Everyone stopped still while I listened. In the distance, I heard that flinty sound of steel hitting stone... a Horse was coming. To heck with playing - there was a horse on its way up the lane. I ran down a path that led to a place down the lane and looked to see if the horse was in sight. No, not yet, but I could hear it coming closer.

All of a sudden, around the corner, came the most beautiful animal my little eyes had ever seen. He was the color of a sunset over the river, tall with a long white mane and tail as white as snow. Oh myyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy- he took my breath away as I watched him come up the hill to our house. Sitting down on a big rock, it was all I could do not to cry. 

The lady rode her horse up to our yard and stopped him. Well, don't you know I was already there to meet her. That horse was as big as a giant building and just shimmering in gold... Words failed me as I stood there staring.

" I can tell you are a horse person too, aren't you?"  the lady asked as she dismounted. She slipped a 'head thing' ( I learned soon that it was called a halter) on her horse and tied him to that same oak tree. She asked me who I was and I finally found words to speak. 

"I'm Kristine and I live here- who are you?"

She smiled and told me her name was Martha, that my mom and she had been friends since high school.

We walked to the house together, me chattering on about her beautiful horse and she told me his name.  " Rocky".

Long ago, Martha had owned some racing horses, one time, she and a horse were injured. The doctors told her she'd not be able to ride again, but she was tough and proved them wrong. No more racing horses but a nice, easy-going fellow named Rocky. She told me that her horse was very kind but if I wasn't careful he would step on my toes. I had to stay a safe distance away if that was alright with me. 

While my mom and Martha visited, I was outside with Rocky. Oh, his feet were huge and when he stomped one to shoo a fly away, it was as though the ground shook. Rocky also had a  white ystripe down his nose similar to Buck. He had those same big brown eyes letting me know how gentle he was.  He snorted which made me jump- I had no idea horses blew their noses! Then I laughed at him when he saw me jump. He said that all horses could do that - could I?  Nooooooooo- I didn't think people could make that noise with their noses. We both chuckled together over that.

I got to see Rocky a few times after that but the one visit I remember the most was the day I actually got to Sit On Him. I was so high up, it was a little frightening but I didn't let anyone know. At least I don't think I did. His saddle was small and his back was so very wide, that I thought if he moved, I'd not ever slip off. Martha was happy to learn that her friend's daughter was horse crazy like she was. I remember her grinning towards my mom and saying

"Liisa, you'd better start saving for a horse now, because this little girl will need one in her life".

Little did Martha know how true that was and that was a dream of mine... and you know what?
That dream I had way back then came true.

This is a photo of Rocky that was given to me by "my friend" Martha. I later learned that he was an American Quarter horse and also registered as a Palomino.

Here is a photo I have from 1959..it is well-loved and used to be in a frame but I've no idea what happened to it. 

Horse Tales

 8.20.2020

I keep saying that I 'need to do this" and never quite get around to it. The time has arrived. The weather is going to get miserably hot/ humid again as summer wanders off and Fall arrives, so it is a good time to write, Right? 

This will be a series of horses I have known in the past. Some from the distant past, but each one has its own story. I have written about some back in the dim recesses of this blog, but these tales will be a little different.  Hahaha- at least I  HOPE  so.

The very first horse I remember was named Buck. I don't know just why he was called that but he was. He was very tall and "brown" back when I was 4-5 yrs old. He belonged to my neighbor and she loved horses as I was learning to. My neighbor was my mom's best friend. They'd grown up together and that friendship lasted for many, many, many years. Of course, I thought Buck was the most wonderful creature I had ever seen in my life. He had a white stripe down his face and big soft eyes and was absolutely gorgeous. In reality, Buck was a very old off-the-track Thoroughbred.. he had been injured several times before he was finally retired and my neighbor ended up owning him. It didn't matter to me that his ankles were all puffy and his back was a little swayed. He was the only "real" horse I had ever seen, so I didn't have much to compare him to. 

 At that time, Buck lived at the very first house on our lane. The pasture was nicer there and he then was taken back to the last house on the lane to live during the winter months, belonging to his owner. I guess Buck had two homes and he seemed to be content grazing his days away. I knew that Buck was living in the pasture at the first house on the lane and was forever asking someone to walk down that long lane with me so I could see Buck. Everyone was busy with school and my two little brothers were not even born yet. That left me with my older sister or older brother. The one long walk to see Buck, I remember clearly. My oldest brother had said yes, he would walk with me to see Buck. Oh, How exciting that would be!

We walked and walked and then walked some more. My little 5-year-old legs were getting tired out but I'd never once admitted it. You see, I had been told numerous times that it was too far for a little girl and that I'd not be able to walk that far. 

Back then, we lived on a long lane with 4 houses on it. It was around a mile from one end to the other and through some dark wooded areas. The road was gravel and occasionally had deep holes in it from bad weather.  Along one side on my right, was what we called "Mr. Lockharts road". It was just an old logging trail that turned into a path leading up to a magical house of stone. It was very small, just two rooms. An outside bathroom was good enough as it had no plumbing, nor electricity. Mr. Lockhart had lived in it for a very long time- longer than I had been alive! He was a scary person and we had heard that he'd gotten drunk one time and killed his brother with an ax.  Needless to say, no way was I going there. Once they got born and old enough, my brothers did. They said Mr. Lockhart gave them ice-cold sodas from a spring close to the house. Imagine that! An ice-cold spring in the ground made sodas ice-cold. Hard to believe for a little girl.

As we walked along, I dropped my favorite toy horse. He was "Silver" and had belonged to the Lone Ranger. I didn't care for the Lone Ranger but boy, I loved that horse on the TV show. To remember where I'd gotten Silver is beyond me at this point, but I had taken him along so Buck could meet him.  After all, they were both horses, right?

I stooped to pick him and my brother yelled at me to keep up. Silver got grabbed by his tail and we both galloped to catch up with him. My brother just shook his head in dismay at having such a crazy little sister.

Finally, after walking for what seemed like miles, we arrived. Walking down the long driveway and past the long-abandoned chicken houses. There were two of these on either side of a small field. The field in the middle had been an orchard at one time and there were apples still growing on a few of the trees. My brother asked me if I wanted one and one for Buck? Of course, I did.  You can imagine having two big apples and one toy horse got difficult to hang on to, but I made it to the gate where Buck lived.

My brother helped me climb up on the wooden gate as I called for the most beautiful horse in my whole world. 

"Buccccckkkkkk!!!!  BUCKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!" I dropped one of those apples as I called as loudly as I could. My brother reached through the boards to pick it up, happily, for me. 

It wasn't long before I could hear the sounds of his hooves hitting the hard ground. He sounded like he was going So fast!  In all reality, he was merely trotting along the pasture fence, down the chicken houses, around the corner to where he knew a little blond girl who loved him would be. 

He was so BIG!!!  I had to look up at the sky to see his face. A beautiful white stripe running down to his nostrils and under his chin... Big gentle eyes that looked at me with such kindness, and I knew I wanted to own a horse just like him one day. He asked about Silver and I told him that Silver was my toy horse. Not a live one like he was. Then Buck noticed we both smelled like something tasty. The apples, of course.

He lowered his massive head over that gate and looked at my brother and at his apple. As Buck was enjoying his apple, he began to make a lot of spit. Ewwww...my brother laughed and explained how to give a horse an apple. Ummm, I didn't see a reason to hold my hand out with that apple sitting on it. He put his hand under mine and steered it towards that large mouth with teeth in it. I can imagine I was leaning back as far as I could when Buck took my apple, in fear of losing my whole arm. 

He didn't! I still had my hand, my arm and he had the apple in his mouth. He had taken it so gently I hardly noticed it leaving my hand. I stood there watching him chew it up and of course, creating more slobber that went all over me, and pretty much everywhere. There's a lot to be said about being a little girl standing close to a horse enjoying his apples...

After that, I gave him a soft pat on his big face and a kiss on his slobbery mouth as I told him "bye', As we walked back up that long lane, I asked my brother if he loved horses and he said no he didn't like them at all. Too messy and stinky. He preferred boats to horses. Something I didn't understand but decided it was alright. I didn't know everything- yet.

I don't know what happened to Buck. I guess he died one day and was buried, but I am not sure just how it all went. Both my mom and her best friend are gone now, but I still wonder...  
The photo below is not Buck, but it is almost as I remember him. There's a photo of him somewhere in my pictures and maybe one day I'll come across it. He was my first love and I'll not forget him.

Horse Shows and HEAT

8/1/2020

Firstly I am not sure if I like this "new" set up that blogger has created, but I'll give it a chance. :) 

I stopped seriously competing in shows when I was in my late 40s - early 50s, but still showed my Percherons after moving up here from Maryland.  When we first found this farm, I really wanted to slow down and be able to enjoy my personal horses. Oh nooooo- What does a horsewoman do but attempt to fill every- single- stall? (there were 12)  And I was there. < chuckles>  It wasn't long until the carriage business had begun with a few weddings booked and a couple of horses to teach to drive. 

So it goes...

When I lived in Maryland, I taught horses and humans to get along better. This included riding lessons, horsemanship lessons, and more. Shows- Oh the Shows! We would hit the county fairs, some shows in Pennsylvania, and down into Virginia. That was early on in my show career and then there were the students who also wanted to compete. There were times when I'd have kids in my barn still braiding manes or tails at midnight before show day. The rules were that those who were showing must do all of their own preparation. (Within reason that is.) When one is too short to reach a pony's back to be sure it is clean, mom or dad could help, but not with gathering all show clothing together, making sure boots were polished and helmets looked like new. I've had kids show up just as I started the truck engine, running as fast as their little legs could go, dragging show clothing bags behind them. (''whew- you JUST made it in time, didn't you?!?!") A nod to mom and off we'd go. Those who wanted to show with us had to clean/ polish their tack also. Right down to making sure the halters their horse/ pony wore in the trailer were fresh and clean. Leg wraps had to all but sparkle in being clean... any blanket or sheet had to look as close to new as possible, and yep, even curb chains, if there were any, had to sparkle.

My gosh, did those kids work hard to be 'good enough to be able to show with "our barn". Sure, I seemed like a slave driver back then, but it was all done with laughter and fun.  There were 8-year-olds who would have competition in whose curb-chain was the cleanest one season.  It was fun to see how high their standards got after a while. Those who hung in there and worked hard to be winners in a show ring told me much later after they had grown up... and yes, would bring their children to learn from me.... that even though the work was so hard, they carried those high standards with them all thru their lives.  To me? A huge compliment...

Horses and ponies had to be spit-polished before the show day... which meant a lot of currying a month before. In order to acquire that 'mirror finish', those kids had to begin far in advance. We didn't need all the spray on stuff that promises a shiny coat or a silken tail/mane. It happened naturally and judges would let those kids know they understood the long grooming sessions that had been done. I loved hearing how happy those kids were even when they didn't place in the ribbons.

 " Did you hear what the judge told ME about my pony????"    

 Ear-to-ear grins made it a perfect day for us all.

 The rules- oh my gosh, the RULES. Each kid had to find his/her own number and be sure they had a way to have it on their backs, saddles had to be dust-free, bits had to shine- and be free of "yucky stuff" as it was called. Boots had to be buffed right before one entered the ring and a quick rub rag over those glistening equine coats. Hoof dressing wasn't used much back then but we knew a way to make those hooves shine without it.  If one had gone to get a soda or snack, and were late, they heard about it... and had to double time getting their horse ready. There was one time someone was late and everyone chipped in helping them get ready for their class. It is how we 'rolled'. No one was better than anyone else, and we were a team. A well-oiled team that worked perfectly back then and it was incredible fun.

If someone did a great job and won a blue ribbon, everyone cheered for that win and hugs all around. If someone had a bad class, everyone said positive things and yes, hugs too.  

To me, it was very important that "my" group learned good sportsmanship and how to behave if they lost or didn't do as well as they thought they should have. After a class, one had to take care of their own horse/pony properly (after changing from their show clothes). Hosing the sweat off, scraping, and if needed, hand walking until their best friend was cool and safe to be put in their stall.  They all learned how to tell if their pony felt "off" when being ridden and if maybe it was not feeling 100%. Those kids sometimes amazed me at what they notice.

Was it a lot of extra work for me? It sure as heck was... did I have my hand out to parents, expecting to be paid for every single minute I spent with their children? I did not.  My pay was seeing dirt-covered, smelly kids having one of the best days that they'd had in a long time. Happy, smiley faces and happy equines. I know the kids slept just about the whole way home but for a few who were still on that ' show high' and didn't stop talking till we were almost home. No matter how tired everyone was, we still took care of those who had helped make the day great.  

Now, all that is over and done with, but I still have so many wonderful memories of all those years. The tears and the cheers- they stay with me and will never be forgotten.