Regards, continued

 1..9.23

Regards #4

 

Regards must have been worn out with being nasty towards humans. For her, it was a full time job.She slept most of the afternoon, even snoring a bit. This was from my boss as he was the one doing the evening chores.

 I got busy turning the geldings out and bringing the broodmares in for the day. It would not be long until we would be changing the turnouts around. The broodmares would then be out during the daytime and inside during the nights as it was getting to be early Autumn. The geldings that were healing from whatever injury had happened to them during their time on the track enjoyed being outside.  Most likely, once they were sound as possible, plans would be made to find a new home for them to retire in.

Jellino was so happy with his new vocation, he would tell everyone about it. He’s such a giant puppy dog; Big and he can look fierce easily. I loved him and I don’t usually care much for geldings. Jellino was the first horse who would give me hugs in return in my life. One time I was feeling particularly bad and I was in Jellinos stall, in tears , cleaning up pooh and telling him about it... I turned around and wrapped my arms around his neck, sobbing into his mane. He curled his neck down and back, giving me a warm hug. So sweet and it helped a lot. Once again I was shown how intelligent horses are and how they truly are sensitive to other’s feelings. I was just in the beginning of allowing horses to come into my mind, to learn from them, and to enjoy them honoring me by letting me into the real world of the horse. I had learned how to block the constant noise from their chatter. It was around this time that I was really getting into talking with horses. I was in my middle 20s and learning to learn, just like the horses needed to do.  

  Finally, I was done with the morning chores and time to get busy getting to know Regards. I took the carrots that I brought for my favorite girls. Cliché was waiting for me. How do horses make carrots sound so good? I bit off a piece for me, too. Grabbing my brushes, I wandered around to Regard's stall. She had not been outside since she arrived and she desperately needed to move. Not to mention that gawd awful stall. Yuck!  

She met me at the stall front, expecting to get a carrot, but I didn’t give it to her right away. Instead, I slid the stall door open and took a huge deep breath of bravery. Stepping into the stall, those ears flattened in an instant. Her nostrils flared as she sucked in a breath of me. I got a serious flashback of pain and a complete feeling of hysteria.

“ why? Why? It hurts so much! I can’t get away, someone, HELP!” 

 I didn’t have any idea why I was thinking that when all of a sudden, I realized it was coming from the horse standing right in front of me. She was studying my face as the tears began. I slid my back down the wall until I was sitting. I was sobbing for the dear mare in front of me who had dealt with so much incredible pain and fear. I remember saying over and over again that I was sorry. She asked ‘For what?’

For what they did to you… I now understood what happened. Putting my brushes down, I thought it was not going to be a grooming sort of day at all. Regards looked away like horses do when they are thinking or deciding what to do next and then took a small step in my direction. I thought that sitting in horse manure on the ground was not a wise choice of place to be sitting with a known vicious horse. I stood up and didn’t move, all the while ready to leap for the door in an instant. She was studying me as though she had never seen me before. So, I turned around in a small circle.  That surprised her. She lifted her neck up , watching me closely. I explained that that way she could see that I didn’t have anything to hurt her with. 

Then, I stood still, waiting. It was up to her to make the first move. I would either be bitten by those humongous teeth or I might survive.  We stood there, looking at each other for what seemed to be like 2 days at least. Then she turned her head around as if she had a bit of stomach pain and thought some more. She looked back at me and took another step, then another and another. She dropped her head and sniffed my jeans, tee shirt, and hair. ( which by the end of the day, also smelled like horses.)  Ever so carefully I raised my hand to her forehead and touched her. Man, those ears flattened so fast! I dropped my arm. 

‘It’s okay, I’m not in a rush.’  That’s when I remembered the carrots I had. I slid one from my pocket and she must have known that movement because she put her ears forward, looking for her carrots. I moved soooo slowly with one in my hand (which was shaking at this point). She gently took it from me. Once again, tears flowed. 

Not sad tears this time, but tears of joy. 

'Regards' #1

 1.6.2023

Once upon a time…. Another Kristale…

I had a job at a small Thoroughbred farm close to Middletown, Delaware. The job covered everything that goes on within a small race training barn. I got there early and dished out breakfast for the horses, bringing the broodmares in for the day. It was early summer and the mornings were breathtaking that early. One mare and I used to stand outside and enjoy the sunrise. She was my favorite so she was just a little spoiled.

After all the ‘nightmares’ were in for the day, the farm owner would usually show up, coffee in hand. I’d get busy with stalls, dumping water buckets, and rinsing feed tubs. The first horse would be out on the track by 7:00 AM during those days… before the sun got too hot. And so it would go. Most times I was done by noon and could head home.

One morning, I was just a bit late. There was a fender bender and I had to wait for them to get off the road. Guess who was hustling? My favorite mare was even hurriedly brought in much to her dismay. I was walking fast up the shed row to get the geldings out, not really paying attention as that side of the barn was empty of horses.

There I was, all but jogging when I went past one of the end stalls and into the barn. All of a sudden it was like there was a big explosion from one of the stalls. A huge red explosion. Eyes were all but shining red, teeth bared, mouth wide open, ready to sink onto whatever body part of me was available. I was so startled, I hit the wall on the other side of the wall in shock.

“ holy crap! What the hell is going on?!” 

I stood there trying to catch my breath, trying to see what it was.

Circling inside the stall was a big chestnut mare. Her mane was tangled in witch's knots, her deep red coat showed a lack of care, and her eyes were sunken into her head from abuse, to say the very least. She stood there, ears completely flattened against her neck, glaring at me with all the hatred she could muster. I said good morning and went back to my normal routine. My normal horses!

I was still shaking inside when my boss came in. I asked him what Is the new horse in for??? He started laughing and said that he forgot to tell me about ‘Regards’ shipping in. He motioned me to sit down.

As the story goes, she had been a “big horse” in the world of Open Jumpers. Anything she was pointed at, she’d jump easily. She was the horse to beat back then. No one knew what happened to her as she kind of disappeared from the show world. One year, she appeared again, fit as a fiddle, and began winning again. Slowly but surely, she started refusing jumps. Back then, there was no internet to find things of this sort. One time, she slipped and almost went down.

That’s when she was purchased by a couple of ladies from New York State. According to what my boss had discovered, these two saw Regards as a money-maker. They’d hired what everyone called ‘the cowboy’… Regards jumped or she was spurred and beaten with a whip. She was broken mentally and just about physically. She tried to refuse her jumps but was beaten so, she tried to jump each one clear. By then, she was not being fed. ‘Don’t feed her till she decides to jump’ was the rule.

She lost weight and became a horse to be reckoned with. No one could handle her; she had become so vicious. That’s where my boss came into it all. Regards had attacked her “trainer “, breaking his arm. The story was that Regards had to go or they were going to shoot her in the far pasture and leave her for the coyotes to enjoy.

And that’s how she ended up in ‘my’ barn.

In my spare time or at the end of my day -every day, I would sit outside her stall, talking to her. Every time I made a loud noise, she’d attack the stall wall, trying to stop me or the loud noises. One day I had to leave on time because I had an appointment to make. Hurrying to her stall, I told her that I was going but here was her daily carrot treat. As I jogged down the shed row, I heard her whisper a soft nicker. Tears in my eyes and feeling happy, I got into my little car and drove away, promising that we would be great friends.

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Another…

 1/3/ 2023

More memories…. ☺

   “I thank you for the music

And your stories of the road

I thank you for the freedom

When it came my time to go --

    I thank you for the kindness

And the times when you got tough

And, papa, I don't think

 I said 'I love you near enough --

   The leader of the band is tired

And his eyes are growing old.

But his blood runs through

My instrument,

And his song is in my soul --

   My life has been a poor attempt

To imitate the man

I'm just a living legacy

To the leader of the band

I am the living legacy

To the leader of the band.”

**********************************

“And Papa, I don’t think I said ‘ I love you “near enough.”

** This song means so much more than being about Dan Fogelberg’s father. My dad, even though he never had much to say by the time I came along. He’d been shut down by my mom so often, I think he gave up. The lyrics of the last part make me get teary-eyed. I remember as I got past the snotty kid stage, my dad let me help paint with him.We used to like taking long walks through the woods... As we walked down our long lane, Dad pointed out some of the birds, the rabbit hiding under a bush, thinking he was hidden. He showed me how to scrape old paint from an old piece of furniture. He told me about helping his dad (my grandfather) who took him hunting geese or ducks out on “The Flats “.  His Irish ancestry gave me my absolute love for horses. Thanks, Dad.

 One time, after I had moved out, I stopped in to visit.We were sitting against a huge tree after they had moved into town…   We shared a bottle of wine. By that time, he knew that his heart would not continue to keep him alive, and had begun having a glass of wine or a beer every so often. He got very serious and looked at me. He said that I was the one person who could keep the legacy of the duck carvers alive. It was in my blood… all of the others were not going to want to, but he hoped that I would continue loving this area as he did and that when I heard the shotguns over the fields and rivers, I’d remember.

   Ohhh, the wonderful stories I got to hear. From the hard work and the arguments, he grew to know as normal, the drinking that went on almost daily.  

  That was when I was much older… when he died in California, I felt him leaving me. I remember sitting outside on some steps crying my heart out. 

  I still miss him and seeing him walking down the path from my parents' house to mine because he knew I was scared of the massive thunderstorms that happened every summer. 

‘Dad, I am still scared of those storms. Yeah, I know that it’s silly, but sometimes I wish we could sit once again talking as they move through. I miss you .

                                                  James R. Heverin Sr./ WW II