The young visitor stared at the bay mare’s mane. “Would you like to brush her?” I ask. Sending the girl for the grooming bag, I haltered the mare, a visitor to the farm herself. After showing the girl about curry combs and brushing with the grain of the hair, she set to the task … Read more
This is my fence panel. I lost count of the other’s just like it, eight, I think. I find them this way, the top rail bent practically in half, edges collapsed. I hear no loud noises, there are no lumps or marks, I just come out to find one or two of the draft-cross geldings … Read more
Trigger warning: Loudmouth Party-pooper ahead.
You could tell it was the 1980’s because I’d done something with my hair that made me look like a Portuguese Water Dog. A permanent wave to posterity. I was in a laundromat washing horse blankets. I wasn’t trying to save the mess at home. I didn’t have a washer. So, two horses in a … Read more
The desire to want a horse is the selfish, easy part.
In the beginning, there was simply nothing easier than loving horses.
At some distant moment in the past, probably after seeing The Miracle of the White Stallions when I was a kid, I found out that Spanish horses were started at 4 years old. Back then, I thought it was a terrible waste. Then a few years ago, I was at a nutritional seminar where the … Read more