We asked our readers to send in special horse memories for a Labor Day promotion. Please enjoy these submissions from your fellow readers!
Our Horses Choose Us, Right? from Bonney MacDonald
Stories of how a partnership begins are among my favorite kinds of horse stories. So much is laid in during those initial times. In 2007, I was working on a guest and cattle ranch in Gila, NM, teaching a 3-week winter-break class on Western Literature (a term abroad!) to college students from New York State. One evening before bed, I ventured out into the mare’s pasture next to my cabin on Bear Creek. The moon was at half and was dimmed by the cottonwoods; but I could see well enough. I started to hear a rumble, which quickly became the sound of thundering hooves coming straight in my direction. Why I wasn’t frightened, I have no idea. But here came a herd about twenty mares directly towards me. Again, I just stood there, weirdly unafraid. About fifty feet away, they all, in unison, came to an abrupt halt behind one of the horses. I couldn’t see the scene well, but then a young 4yo chestnut, who I had recently admired, appeared in the moonlight. Walking traight-as-an-arrow towards me, she approached quietly and stopped about two feet from my left shoulder. Stood softly and with presence. Intention.
I greeted her, we visited in the moonlight, and that was that. I asked if she wanted to come home with me. She said, “I thought you’d never ask.” That was the first of our many agreements over the years. She was in the midst of an initial thirty days there in NM, and she soon came home to me where I lived at the time – in Saratoga Springs, NY. These many years later, we’re still a team. Rioja came to Texas with me from 2008-2014, and continues her life, in my little herd of three, here on our ranch in SE Colorado. She’s been a fellow teacher in many a mountain ranch retreat, and now — at 24 yo – continues to be ridden and loved. Rioja is wise, patient, careful, and even delicate for her 15.2 height. She’ll still look at a cow, cover country here on the high plains, and she has an inner dignity and peace that has touched many a horseman.
My First Horse – Brownie – from Sonia Kudalsky
My journey as a horseman began with Brownie, a Shetland pony who originally belonged to my sister. My father loved to tell the story of how he bought Brownie and his saddle from a neighbor for just $25.
Years later, I was born into that story. I don’t remember my first ride—my dad said I was about three years old—but I remember growing up in a small farming community in Pennsylvania with no neighborhood kids to play with. Luckily, I had Brownie. He was my best friend, and with him, my wild imagination had endless room to roam across the farmland.
I can still see myself riding him bareback through cornfields, leaping stone walls, pretending we were racing for the finish line in some grand competition, or off on an adventure only a child’s imagination could invent.
Brownie was more than a pony. He was a teacher. He showed me lessons that only a wise, patient pony could teach a little girl—about trust, responsibility, and friendship.
When I grew too big to ride him, I wasn’t ready to give up our adventures. I found an old surrey cart, refurbished it, bought a harness, and taught Brownie how to drive. Together, we rolled through many parades, his little hooves trotting proudly down the street. Brownie even became the first horse I ever moved cows on—though he was smaller than some of the cows themselves!
Looking back, I know that Brownie was more than just my first horse. He was the start of everything.
Stinker From Jan Leitschuh
This was “Stinker,” a white donkey whose name we changed to “Tinker” or “Tink. Here he was at Rennaissance Rescue after being pulled from a kill pen and all the trauma that entails. Tink was uncatchable, as he well knew what human hands could do.
So, we used as little hands as possible in regaining his trust.
He went on to be adopted out to a fabulous owner, who took him beyond trust, all the way to love. The vets and farriers now praise his sweet nature, which was always there, but was covered up by fear.
Me on Queen riding with Mindy in a BB clinic in Kiowa in 2015
Sharing My Horsemanship Story – Kristin Jacob
As I entered the cold damp brick barn in Denmark I met eyes with a beautiful grey mare as she peered around the corner. Time stopped for a brief moment and the universe filled my mind with these words, “this horse won’t make you famous, she will make you into the horseman you’ve always wanted to be”. I was looking at this mare to be my next partner for the Grand Prix in show jumping. At that time, I did not know what good horsemanship was but I felt a true understanding and empathy for the horses was missing in my chosen discipline and although I didn’t know what it was, I was looking for something more. I was a good rider, not a horseman.
I purchased the grey mare and flew her to the United States. She was quick and careful and incredibly talented. She was also a bit spooky and I now realize that I put pressure on her with the wrong timing. This lead to problems in the show ring, particularly with and around the open water jump. I talked to top trainers in my discipline and the answers I got where to beat her and drug her which I knew wasn’t a solution to get the horse truly confident in the long-term. I was at a loss what to do and very sad as I wanted to do right by the mare. I knew she was lacking confidence but had no idea how to work with her.
An acquaintance of mine knew that this was a very nice horse and that I had been struggling. She told me about a lady on the eastern planes of Colorado that really helped her freind’s horse that was having trouble at the mounting block. So what does standing at the mounting have to do with the open water and jumping? I wrote that off as totally irrelevant. But as time went on, I still had no solutions and the issues spread. What the heck, what’s a phone call I suppose. I walked to a quiet place and called the phone number I was given by the acquaintance. The woman who answered was Mindy Bower. I told her about my mare and we were on the phone for about an hour. Mindy told me how she could help the horse and everything she said made sense and respected the horse’s dignity. But I was nervous about brining a high-end show jumping horse out to a ranch on the eastern planes body clipped in the middle of winter.
Another month rolled on, I took the horse to the National Western Stock Show but didn’t end up showing her. Neither the horse nor I were having much fun together and I kept wishing I understood what she was telling me. I figured at this point what the heck, what do I have to loose, and gave Mindy another call. I brought the mare down to the UhOh Ranch the next week. I was in my last semester of finishing my dissertation so left her down there until after I graduated in May.
I hadn’t seem my horse in months so was little anxious and excited. Mindy had been sending me updates about her and said that she was doing really well. We started off with a little ground work, which I’d never even heard of, and then we were off to ride out on the prairie. As we walked through the cottonwoods headed out to the prairie, I picked up my reins and my horse, who had always been very stiff, softly flexed at her pole. I knew Mindy had done that without draw reins or harsh leverage bits and that feel certainly got my attention. We went through a gate and hung a right onto a sandy creek bottom. Mindy didn’t say a word but I think knowing I was an experienced rider, she picked up a canter that turned into a gallop. We flew up the sandy creek bottom, horses blowing hard when we finally pulled them up. I was grinning ear to ear.
As we rode out onto the prairie, we took a detour to a stock pond. My mare, who was afraid of water, whether the open water in the show ring or just even puddles, went right in. My horse was confident, soft in her feel and her mind, and had a deep inner peace. There was no looking back for me. I wanted to know how this was possible, how Mindy had understood my mare, and what she did to help her. Due to Mindy’s generosity this was the start of an incredible era in my life. I started going down to the ranch as much as I could. I attended my first clinic with Buck that summer, and discovered so many resources and met so many incredibly kind people. A whole new world opened up for me and I couldn’t get enough.
The year I discovered horsemanship was 2012 and it changed the trajectory of my life. I stopped looking for a job in the field that my doctorate was in and, because of horsemanship, was given an opportunity to start my own business at a barn in Boulder, CO. Today I have a thriving business that pairs horsemanship with working with show jumping horses and riders. I get to learn alongside my students and am on a fantastic journey lead by the horses and my curiosity. I’m still not a horseman, and don’t think I will achieve that in this lifetime. But am still learning and striving towards those words that came to me through the universe when I first met eyes with one of the greatest horses to enter my life. Thank you Queen for the incredible humility you gave me and for opening up a world that I may not have otherwise discovered. Thank you Mindy for pouring your heart into teaching me and for all the fun we had – there wasn’t anything we couldn’t do together!
Swimming with Queen ranch next door from the UhOh
Me jumping while flagging a group of colts (colts not in photo) at the UhOh
Mountain Vibe ~ Our Story from Cindy Normandeau
I brought Vibe, an unhandled/untrained BLM yearling mustang, home November 1st 2024, He had been gathered in the mountains of northern Nevada as an 6-8 month old, and kept in a Utah facility for a year before being offered for adoption. He has been an amazing culmination of my later-in life horsemanship journey.
I was introduced to Harry Whitney when I realized I wasn’t content with the skills I had to start the Welsh Cob babies I was raising to be sold. I learned from Harry, Ross Jacobs and Libby Lyman. My copy of Tom Dorrance’s “True Unity” is dog-eared and highlighted from multiple readings. I also had the great privilege of meeting and auditing Nahshon Cook. And the ultimate privilege in making amazing friendships with devoted students of the horse.
Vibe has opened my world to just how elusive this thing called trust is, because he was so untrusting and so “real”. I was determined not to take any trust for granted or erode what we had found. He has taught me patience beyond words and the okay-ness of allowing trust to evolve. “Taking the time that it takes” He was frightened and skeptical of people and dogs and hens and sudden not understood noises and a multitude of things. It was, however, only 3 days after he arrived that his curiosity got the better of him and we touched. He sniffed my face and did the flehman response, hard-wiring my scent into his brain. Now he’ll seek me out when he’s busy grazing, swing by for a scratch and a “Good Boy” before moving along. In terms of getting lots of “people stuff” done, not so much, but for this horse and this human, we are right on track and loving the journey.
I applaud all those who give BLM horses a chance as a domestic partner. In my next life time, I’ll have many BLM burros and horses.
Itsy from MaryEtta Findley
I purchased a mare at a production sale in 1983. She was a beautiful seal brown with big ebony eyes and velvety shiny coat. This was a show barn and the mare was 4 years old and barely understood much other than shuffling around and making the rider look good. I couldn’t go home without her for some reason as well as I didn’t know much about riding and I was struck by her beauty. Quarter horse and thoroughbred breeding showed through in her sensitivity. That was the beginning of a new way of life and a new way of thinking about life. She showed me the way to humility, adjusting and accepting I had so much to learn from the ground up, literally.
Fortunately Ray Hunt happened to do a clinic in my area and I read an article about him that piqued my curiosity and I took a chance and enrolled in a clinic. That started a learning process with Ray and others that still goes on today. My mare never gave anything away, one had to earn it. She expected perfection and let you know it. She could tell every time I rode with Ray things got better and it took quite a few years before she thought I was maybe going to get there. She began to trust me more and eventually she got me trained to the point she decided to take care of me. I had earned that consideration. I could read her mind and she could read mine. We did trails, cow work, roping and anything else that came along. I have never, and will never have a relationship with another being of any species like I had with that mare. She was my learning horse, my teacher, my soulmate, my guide to an adventurous way of life and some of the best friends I have ever had. I had her for thirty three years, four foals, and a few physical maladies of my own.
One beautiful summer day she came up to my arena barn from the pasture and looked at me with those big beautiful ebony eyes and told me she was tired and didn’t want to do this anymore. That shiney, velvet coat still glimmered in the sunlight even though she had lost many teeth and ate her rations from a nose bag that she could slobber in to soften the pellets. She still made her way up and down the hilly pasture to nibble the fresh green new growth of grass, as she was the herd matriarch. I had begun to feel like I had her on life support. As I’m in my sunset years I understood and made arrangements for her to have a peaceful departure. She still, as always, leads the way. I miss her and think of her often. She was the one that opened the door to discover truth, honesty, passion and to see beyond the obvious into the soul. Life. My Itsy.
Just Another Ride from Stephen Kohut
It was just another ride
on a warm desert morn’.
Hay thrown, stock tanks full,
herd at their repast.
The roan he gathered up
ready for the day.
Hooves picked, back brushed,
thick felt pad adjusted.
Saddle feather light,
seat smooth and slick.
Cantle tucked low.
So little on which to stick.
Out the southern gate
down the single track,
head down, sun out,
a walk to warm up with.
Stiff joints loosened up,
straight two track ahead.
Now a gentle leg
for the smooth long trot.
A few miles away
down the same two track
a congress circled round
looking to break their fast
Not one, or two nor three
but turkey vultures four
looking for a tasty bounty
upon the desert floor
By the greasewood brush
along the same two track
lay a sun baked treat,
ripe, crispy to eat.
The congress settles in
around a carcass sweet.
Wings folded, beaks down
tearing their breakfast meat.
Fate and food, beaks and hooves
make an unplanned meet.
Vultures flush as one
wings straining hard
swirling as they rise.
Roan searching hard.
Beaks east and west,
wings all around
then the roan spots
a clear stretch of ground.
With a might leap,
immediately stage left,
the roan rescues them
from a fate worse than death.
Rider all stretched out
slick saddle and stirrups gone,
head high amongst wings
legs low and south.
He lawn darts to earth
to Rice Krispies sounds
of snap, crackle and pop
as he crumples to the ground
In a Wile E Coyote
moment as he lands,
“now you’ve gone and done it
nuked it all old man.”
Three ankles and knees has he
two of each in the left.
A finger stabs off right.
Stars circle round.
Tail whips a 180
the mare spins around
proud of herself.
All safe and sound.
Wait, something’s missing!
Where the hell is he?
Why are you down there
on the dusty ground?
Roan stares at rider
as congress settles down
in a nearby tree
to calm their panic down.
Two vultures join the four
to wait for what could be
a sun baked banquet
already on the ground.
Much to the congress’ dismay
truck and trailer arrive.
Guarding roan loaded
Rider gathered up.
A new steed he rides,
wheels knobby and three,
pink tassled handles
and padded seat for knee.
Newly listed on Craig
a charming endurance saddle.
Smooth, slick and light
oh so temping to pick.
Bones knit around screws.
Casts now abandoned.
Rehab done, muscles stretched,
joints kinda mended.
Empty box on porch.
New saddle freed.
Ready to ride again.
A better plan has he.
Custom made Wade,
seat roughout and sticky,
cantle high and straight,
stirrups wide and deep.
Amongst the purchase papers
sits a small white card
of guarantees and warranties
against riding tragedies.
This saddle is designed
for the following risks.
Stay within the limits
and read all fine print.
Foxes four, coyotes three
ATVs no more than two,
bikes three, hikers four
cougars plus bears one.
On the back of the card
In 8 point agate font
unread and ignored
a tiny small exclusion.
Vulture congresses none
without the special protection
of the unpurchased Velcro seatbelt
and fender leg attachments.
But that would be OK
as it was just another ride.
