#ottbtalesfromthetrail – Reenchanted Thoroughbreds

Lemonade Anyone?

Tales from the Trail #212

I close up the trailer and slither into my truck feeling defeated. I drop my head to the steering wheel trying to breath. The trailer starts to rock as Dulce tells me to get moving; he doesn’t like being in the trailer unless it’s moving. I start the engine, and as soon as the diesel purrs, he mellows out. Down the winding washboard roads and hills we plunge.

I try to shake off the bad feeling of a ride that appeared to go wrong at every turn. I pump up the volume on Michael Franti singing Stay Human. Doesn’t help. I put my window down to let the warm, summer air hit my face, and I shift my focus. “What good happened today?”

The ride started out well. Dulce handled descending down the hill while going over polls incredibly well. When he did get nervous about anything, he never panicked. He simply took a few steps back. I gave him time to examine whatever made him nervous, and when he relaxed, he’d step forward easily. He was relaxed yet alert. Nothing seemed to make him nervous. He responded to me, and what more can a girl ask for? A green horse doing all of these things on a trail he’s never been on is beyond perfect.

We weren’t riding alone though. My dogs were with us, and I brought Harley, my 20 yo quarter horse, along. Harley has been on every trail around this area. I thought he would keep Dulce calm on this brand new trail and be a good teacher. Harley was more interested in high elevation grass. Every time I paid more attention to helping Dulce through another obstacle, he tried to drag me off the saddle as he dove for a big bite. If Dulce and I went to the left, he’d turn right. Harley’s mind was on green grass and that was it. Being in a drought, who can blame him? My right arm sure could as I tried to stop him from snatching. He jerked me around in every direction. I tried to keep my frustration with Harley at a minimum, because I didn’t want my emotions to agitate Dulce.

When we finally got down into the small canyon, I noticed a camper up ahead in an area that made me wonder how in the world they got it there. My experience with riding by campers isn’t always the best, so I decided to ask Dulce to climb a steep hill to the south of them through thick brush and over some rocky spots, which I’ve never had the opportunity to do with him before. All we can do is try.

As we climbed, I shoved any doubt I had out of my mind. He is so athletic, and he relished the challenge. He climbed over obstacles with ease. His enthusiasm to climb the hill became contagious, because Harley didn’t try to snatch one blade of grass. Dulce jumped up onto a rock cliff, and before I knew it we were at the top of the hill. I think my smile extended a lot more than from ear to ear when Harley tried to yank me down to the ground hard yet again.

“Harley, stop it!” I yell. He looks at me with a mouthful of grass and a smirk.

“I’m going to ignore you Harley.”

We ride into this one area that used to be a homestead. Unfortunately, a lot of wire from old fences was all over the place. When I spotted it, I asked Dulce to back out of the area, and he did it without any problems. Harley didn’t want to back up. An old spring still flowed, and the grass is five feet tall. No wonder they had their homestead here. It was the greenest most lush spot I’ve seen all summer. The old trees created the most beautiful, cooling shade. I didn’t want to leave.

We head off when we came to a dried up water crossing. Any type of water outside of his home environment is the one thing that seems to scare Dulce, and this dried up area held on to all of the smells of water was no different. Dulce refused to walk over it.

“Okay Harley, you’re up. Time to teach Dulce that this isn’t scary.” Harley crossed a lot of water with Shandoka and I years past. He has this. I try to get Harley to lead the way, but he refused. He and Dulce both begin backing up.

“Are you kidding me Harley? You and I have crossed over this I have no idea how many times. Come on Harley, help me out.”

Harley backed up a few more steps with Dulce following. Frustrated with Harley that he was teaching Dulce this was scary, I give him one more chance to show Dulce how brave he is. Total fail.

He looked at me as if to say, “Listen woman that feeds me and makes me go on these long walks, if he’s scared, why am I going to take the lead? There is some really nice grass on this side of the crossing. I have no incentive to go across.”

I hop off and walk them back and forth across this area easily. I climb back on, and we ride across it. I throw Harley a side glance of displeasure. He could care less until I shorten up his lead rope keeping his nose by my knee. We work our way up another hill where a creek that usually runs across the path is dried up. We go through the same thing as the last crossing with Harley refusing to be the teacher….again. After climbing back on, the ride goes well until we head back and hit the same water crossings. Even though we ended up riding across them once before, they wiped it out of their memory. Back to hopping off, teaching, hopping on, and riding across.

“Harley, you are not earning your hay today at all!”

“Well, let me try to drag you off your saddle again for some yummy grass right over here!”

That was our discussion for most of the ride back.

We get to the hill where we need to drop off back into the canyon. Dulce did fantastic at navigating the steep grade while climbing over poles. I decide to cut to the left around a big aspen, so we can hit an easier part of the hill, when Harley decides to go around the opposite side of the pole. I nearly went off the back of the saddle this time.

“Harley!” I yell out of total frustration. He is usually the best trail partner rarely giving me any problems. “Why are you doing this to me?” I exclaim as I hop off Dulce again, and get Harley on the right side. I climb back on, and ride down the hill into the canyon when a strange dog comes running up to us.

I look around for his humans who obviously are in the camper. I call out to them several times asking them to come get their dog because he keeps following us. I ride towards their camper calling out for them to get their dog again. Dulce AND Harley were fantastic about it all. The dog was great, and he only wanted to play with my dogs. No answer. I call out again, and this time they close the door of their camper.

“Really? Instead of getting your dog, you’re closing the door? Seriously?”

My pot was boiling at this point. I didn’t want to chase the dog off with the horses, because I didn’t want to teach him to go after horses out of fear. I hop off for the upteenth time, and I chase the dog back to his camper where he finally stayed. I walk my guys over to this huge, downed Ponderosa, and climb back on Dulce.

By the time we make it back to the trailer, I’m frustrated, exhausted, and beating myself up for being the worst horse trainer in the world. I load them up, and this is when I tried to find something good from all of this.

My answer was that I never got bucked off. Dulce took it all in stride no matter what Harley or those campers through at us. He overcame new obstacles with ease and struggled with the same issue of water. I’ve exposed him to deer, elk and black bear scent, walked him through my irrigation and where my irrigation forms a huge puddle with ease. I need to find some water out in the woods and go sit by the water’s edge with him until he finds a way to walk up to it. A strange dog didn’t even phase Harley or Dulce, and Dulce is extremely athletic. I get excited about the rides that we will be doing one day. So, this is how I made some lemonade out of huge lemons.

I unload the horses, Harley last. I look into Harley’s eyes and shake my head. He did help teach Dulce to deal with all sorts of negative stuff.

“Okay, okay, you earned your hay.”

Build a Barn and the Horse Will Come

I hopped out of the truck, walked over to my horse trailer about to drop Dulce’s window when I came to a dead stop. I slowly turned around to look into the eyes of a very big bull.

I hopped out of my truck, walked over to my horse trailer about to drop Dulce’s window when I came to a dead stop. I slowly turned around to look into the eyes of a very big bull. There is a rule around here to never get off your horse around cattle, but my horse was in the trailer. He took a few steps towards me as we stood there looking into each others’ eyes.

The last time I was this close to a bull on the ground was when I was ten years old. My brother and I went to visit my grandparents up in Oregon. My grandpa needed to move the cattle into another pasture. I never saw him ride a horse, and he did everything on the ground with his cattle. He told me that the bulls would be scared of me since they didn’t know me. It was his version of a joke I guess as this bull charged after me. I ran for my life screaming for help while he laughed. I flew over the fence only to hit the hot wire with my right arm. My grandpa kept it turned it up all the way due to the bulls always knocking down fence, so my arm buzzed for the rest of the day into the night. I’m not a fan of bulls.

“I don’t eat red meat buddy, so you need to be nice to me.” He took a few steps closer. I wasn’t sure if I should run to the door of my truck risking him pinning me or stand there. “Why does this stuff happen to me?” I moaned.

I stood there and looked into his eyes. He didn’t seem aggressive at all. Behind him I saw that there were several cows in the old BLM corral with the gate wide open. There was no grass in there at all. In fact there is hardly anything for these guys to eat in this drought in the forest. I wondered if they went in there because they were scared by a bear or mountain lion, or if they hoped a truck would come get them and take them to food.

What I saw in his eyes haunted me. I felt like I carried the same look in my own. He pawed at the dirt that should be grass, and not being able to help him, I climbed back into my truck. I rolled my window down and told him, “Don’t worry, someone will come to check on you soon. Maybe you can be moved to the next section.” I drove off feeling guilty at not being able to do anything for him.

I drove to another place that would be a good spot to ride Dulce, which was much farther up the road. I kept thinking about that bull. I felt like him….as if I’m standing there trying to protect everyone yet helpless to do anything. I’m waiting and waiting for something to change, but this drought is affecting my life on so many levels personally; not just physically.

All sorts of thoughts roamed through my mind; thoughts not good before a ride. When I pulled over, I took a few breaths, reminded myself that Dulce needed me completely present, cleared my mind, and I hopped out of the truck again. No cows or bulls anywhere.

Dulce and I had a great second trail ride through the forest. I am in awe of him and how brave he is. When I literally climb on him, he stands so calm waiting for me to get myself situated. He walks off with his ears perked and confidant. I point him in any direction, and off he goes. He has no problem pushing through brush, trees, climbing over logs, walking by uprooted trees where the roots are taller than we are, weird looking rocks; he takes it all in stride.

I don’t even know how to describe how amazing it is to sit on a horse like him. I can feel his power, his strength, his ability to take off at a full run in a split second, yet he chooses to work with me in this silent partnership. It humbles me all the time, and cracks my heart open filling it with an indescribable euphoric joy. I love working with OTTB’s. I love retraining them if that is even the right word. Maybe it is more repartnering with them? Because, no horse will do what you hope unless they are willing to; and that comes from developing a relationship.

When we get back, he loads up on the first try. Woohoo! I get back in the truck, and I decide to stop and see what brand that bull and cows have. Maybe I’ll recognize who they belongs to, but when I get there, they all are gone. I hope they went to the one water hole in the area.

I head down the long, winding road home, and all sorts of thoughts crowd in again that I’ve been trying to avoid. Mojo again….what would he have been like on the trail? Awesome I know. Will Dulce’s gut recover well from this ride? Dreams…my husband often asks me what I want to be when I grow up. I tell him that I have no dreams anymore. I simply want to get through each day with healthy, happy horses and dogs. I’ve given up on my dreams for the horses, because each time I try to aim for something, it all goes wrong…Shandoka when I started him on barrels, Chaco when I started training him for Dressage….Mojo….and now I worry that Dulce’s gut can’t handle the stress of doing anything. I would rather he be healthy than anything go wrong for my hopes and dreams.

Maybe the bull wasn’t being desperate for help. Maybe he was showing me that even during this horrible drought, he has hope that help will come…..that things can change, and that this dark cloud can transform.

Then the question that a lot of people asked me recently is do I plan on getting another horse strolls into my brain. Well, I think about that a lot. Mojo was perfect, because he was a year younger than Dulce, and he and Dulce really liked one another. The fact of the matter is I don’t know how long Harley will be here with us; he’s 20. I hope he lives another fifteen or more years, but who knows if that’s possible. Chaco’s stifle injury on the track has probably shortened his life as much as I hate to admit that (I don’t want to admit to it at all.). I often wonder how long his left hind leg will hold out compensating for the right. The Pentosan, Glucosamine, and Hyaluronic Acid have really helped him out. He is standing more square, and he rests his left leg more often. However, winter….uggh….winter. It’s so hard on him that last winter I almost packed up the horses and dogs to go camp in the desert until the Arctic cold moved on. Dulce can’t handle being alone at all. Harley can’t either. Chaco is the only one that remains somewhat calm.

Watching Dulce struggle after Mojo died, his gut issues flaring back up, I know that yes, I need to get another horse one day, because he and Chaco are joined at the hip. He really needs to have another buddy if Chaco goes before he does to literally survive that. The same goes for losing Harley. Yes, I want to get another Off Track Thoroughbred. They have my heart. They always have since I was a baby. I believe thoroughbreds give so much of themselves for our enjoyment that I need to give back to them in whatever way I can one at a time.

I would love to get another Uncle Mo gelding in honor of Mojo. Mojo and I weren’t done, so I would love to get one of his siblings….to keep at least one of them from ending up in a bad situation like he did; it would be my way of giving back to Mojo what he gave to us in his short time with us. If not an Uncle Mo, maybe an Indian Charlie (sire of Uncle Mo) or an Afleet Alex, which was Mojo’s damsire. If a Tiznow appeared, I would definitely consider taking one in since Mojo was abandoned in a field with a Tiznow mare. Of course I will bring home whatever horse speaks to me the most like my others have. Maybe in the Fall or next Spring a horse will find me. If you know of any racehorse (gelding) that is related to Mojo that needs a home, please let me know.

After Mojo died, a friend sent me winnings she bet on a horse the day that Mojo died. The horse’s name is Got Mojo. She told me to do whatever I wanted with it. I’ve held on to the check not feeling right about accepting it. I thought about tearing it up, so she could donate it to another horse or rescue. I went back and forth on it until I came to this realization that one day I need to get another horse.

My husband and I decided to cash it, and we are going to build another horse stall with it. If a horse doesn’t call out to me in the future, then Harley won’t have to share his barn with Dulce. He likes to have a lot of space to himself…lol. Ever since Shandoka died, that area of the barn belongs to him, and he reluctantly shares it with Dulce. Whatever may happen, I believe that by building this extra stall, another horse will come be with us one day.

Forest Ride

Every now and then these two old timers like to stop to talk to me, or maybe I should say talk to each other in front of me. One was a rancher and the other did rodeo for a good portion of his life. They sometimes include me in their conversations, which start off something like, “How are your horses doing? You riding those thoroughbreds? They aren’t too much for you?” I try to answer before they start debating. The rodeo guy things thoroughbreds can pretty much do anything in an arena, and the ranching guy believes they spook at everything, they have bad minds, and they only belong on the track. They both agree that they can’t be ridden on the trail. I rarely get a word in.

This discussion I’ve heard so many times. Several people told me Shandoka would never amount to anything, and I should just take him to the sale. We proved them all wrong, and I endeavor to show everyone what thoroughbreds can do to hopefully convince someone out there to adopt one. It’s the reason why I write this blog and post the pictures.

Dulce is third OTTB I’ve trained for the trail. I wish I could pony him with another horse, but it never works out for me this way. Instead, I pony him. Before I get into the saddle, we go for walks, we explore things together, and I do everything I ask of him to do. I’ve done this with all three, and it pays off. Today I took Dulce for his first ride under saddle up in the forest.

Dulce is a horse that needs to be walked first in the beginning. His mind gets agitated with excitement, so I need to relax his mind first. If I got on him and go for it, we will do battle the entire time. My expectations will be defeated, and all he and I will do is get totally frustrated with one another. I can’t stress this enough….in the beginning, throw your expectations out the window and pay attention to what your horse is telling you he or she needs to feel more confident. How did I know he needed me to walk him first? He didn’t want me to get on him, and I saw the concerned look in his eye; so we walked. I let him walk until I saw him relax and feel comfortable. His head lowered and his eye relaxed.

I took Dulce and Harley back to the trailer, and I got on him. This time he stood perfectly. He was on the muscle a bit, and I kept saying, “Easy, easy,” and within a hundred feet, he mellowed. I’m asking a lot of him. Harley won’t pony him, so he must lead the way on his first ride into and through things he never experienced on the track. He needs to push through the brush first or walk buy weird looking downed trees first instead of following a seasoned horse that can show him it’s no big deal. Harley follows us and that does help, but it’s not the same.. This is a lot to ask of a newbie, but gosh dang he is so brave and smart. As you can see in the video, he didn’t jump, bolt, buck, rear…..nothing. He walked along calmly with his ears forward interested in everything. He eyed a few things but kept going. He had no problem with moving forward. He did so well that I was able to ride him one handed. I kept the ride short, because I wanted to release the pressure from him pretty quick to reward him, so we only did three miles today.

Dulce rode over rocks, along the rim of a steep canyon, pushed through oak brush taller than me in the saddle, rode through some dense forest, and he dealt with some smells that made him a bit nervous. We wound around pine trees, and we climbed up and rode down a hill. Riding in the forest is so different than riding out in the BLM down below. It can be so claustrophobic, and you never know what is around the next corner. A rabbit ran out in front of us, and he stopped to watch it never spooking. He did everything I could have hoped for.

The great thing about trail riding a horse is that it is a nice break from arena work, they love it and it lifts their spirits, and it teaches them to put all of that arena work to use out on the trail. It also helps them learn to use their hind-end naturally, because each time you do hills, they naturally need to shift back on to that hind end. It also strengthens them physically and mentally in different ways that arena work can’t do.

I always want to say something: Ignore a horse’s pedigree. Focus on the horse that is right in front of you. Don’t let people put ideas in your head on how your horse is going to act because of the sires in his or her line. If I listened to that, I never would have attempted this due to who one of his sires is through his dam. If you have preconceived ideas about how your horse will act, you will create a horse that acts like those ideas. Thoroughbreds love the trail. They absolutely love it, and if you take your time with your horse, you too can have a great trail horse.

I can’t wait to get back out there with him. It felt so good to be out there again on such a brave, smart horse. Gosh, he takes my breath away.

Getting Our Butterflies in Formation

I was watching an online class by Tik Maynard, and he talked about getting butterflies during competitions, I guess a well known jumper once said, “The difference between my butterflies and your butterflies, is that I get mine moving in formation.” Dulce is such a smart horse. He is kind, he is powerful, he is brave, he is curious, he is playful, he is caring, and he is really good at causing butterflies to scatter.

The moment he knows we are going anywhere, he does what he can to cause butterflies or situations to scatter with the wind making it hard for me to stay collected. I’ve learned though. I learned how to help him, which I detailed in my last blog about Dulce, and I’ve learned other ways to help us.

For instance, when I feed in the morning, I unplug everything all of the extension cords that run to the cameras, and then I walk away. He knows that something is up, but he stays relaxed. I hook up the trailer the night before….these simple steps reduce his anxiety about leaving Chaco and his home. He moved around a lot before he came here, and he gets separation anxiety.

Best laid plans with him though always seem to scatter with the wind, and the day of our first trail ride was no different. Everything I thought I had perfectly planned, was not. I couldn’t find a darn thing, and each time I came up short, he got a bit hotter. I thought it was a sign that I should let it all pass and try again another day. However, I was determined to get Dulce out there. Despite all of the obstacles, I got him loaded with Harley, and off we went.

My plan was to ride Harley and pony Dulce. Immediately, that fell apart. Harley began spinning the moment he realized he was to be the lead horse despite our practicing it several times at home and in the arena. I hopped off, put a saddle on Dulce, and said a prayer. This is not the ideal way to take a horse out for his first trail ride. Usually, you pony him and give him a chance to figure things out without a rider on his back. However, I’ve never done it the ideal way. Shandoka’s and Chaco’s first trail rides were with me riding them; not ponying them. Why should this be any different?

What is so cool about this video is that there is some solid, white, flat rock in the ground. Usually, horses will try to avoid this if they’ve never come across it. They’ll walk around it. He had no problem walking on it at all.

I got on Dulce, and he immediately acted up. He thought it was time to be turned out on pasture, and was ready to take off at a full run. I did a one reined stop, hopped off again, and decided to walk him alongside Harley for a few hundred feet to see what would happen.

Within a couple of minutes, his excitement level dropped from a five to a three. Much more manageable. I hopped back on, and it was as if he knew exactly what to do. My only goal at this point was to remain present with him and help him. I slowed down my breathing, relaxed my back, and I softened my hands. His ears were forward, and he moved forward at a good clip. One thing about Dulce is that he takes care of me when I get on him. He may act up for the first few minutes, but not out of malicious intent, but because he feels so good. He immediately settles down and focuses on the work in front of him. He is a real honest horse.

Poor Harley was none too thrilled. Harley, likes to stop and smell the grass, eating along the way whenever possible. Now he was trotting alongside Dulce to keep up.

There is something so amazing about that first ride; when all of your work and time with your horse comes together in a beautiful moment. He didn’t fight me, struggle or spook, but stayed as present with me as I was with him. Not one word needed to be said between us, because we both knew what the other one was feeling. To feel such a powerful being beneath you willing to work with you instead of overtake you is a blissful, blessing that is beyond words.

What made me really happy was that he loves being out there. It is so good for the horse’s mind to go out on trail rides. It not only heals the rider’s soul, but it heals the horses mind. It brings their soul back to their nature despite the human on their back. We ask them to do so many things, and to me this is one of the best ways to give back to them; let them travel over the ground and see new things….be out in the open country.

This is the third Thoroughbred that I’ve trained to ride on the trail. Lots of people tell me it can’t be done, because they are too spooky and dangerous. I’m hoping that Shandoka, Chaco and now Dulce (and one day Mojo) will convince any doubter out there that a Thoroughbred can do anything. They are as versatile as any horse out there.

Dulce is an incredible being, and we have a long way to go until he isn’t a neon green trail horse. Riding him now two times on the trail, I can feel how he knows who he is, and he doesn’t let me forget it. With that said, somehow he and I both got our butterflies in formation, and it feels so good.

Holy Cat!

Time for our second adventure. Not sure he looks at it like that, but I’m sure one day he will…..I hope. Trailer is hooked up…check. Key in the ignition for a quick get a way….check! Pull the cat blankets and food out of the trailer…check! Look in the tack for cats….check! Go get horse and load him up…..check!

Dulce loads up easily, and is calm in the trailer thank goodness. I close the window and off we go. I pull in, get out, and I immediately notice that the trailer isn’t rocking back and forth like last time. Dulce is patiently waiting inside the trailer. I hear a moan. It’s a an odd sound, one that I never heard a horse make before, and then the sound comes from the trailer again much louder. Oh my gosh, a cat is in the trailer! I open the side door, and there she is holding on for dear life in the hay feeder. Even though my hay field is kitty corner, an accidental pun intended, from my neighbor’s place, I doubt she’ll find her way home. I quickly close the door, apologize to Dulce, and turn around and head back home. When we get back, she is curled up in the feeder much calmer now. I lift her out, and she takes off. Only me stuff like this happens to. I wonder how long it will be before Goldie forgives me.

Note to self: Always check the hay feeders before I drive off.

When I decide to desensitize my horses to sounds in the horse trailer, I go all out. Surprisingly, he takes it all in stride. When we get back to the arena, he stands calmly waiting for me to open the slant. I can’t believe the night and day difference from our last trip. He learned.

We walk into the arena, and he begins lunging himself. This time he is much calmer about everything. He must have learned the more riled up he gets the longer he works.

Before I know it, I decide to put the saddle on. He stands perfectly. I ask him if it’s okay for me to ride him. He drops his head to my heart. I climb on, and he stands perfectly. His attention isn’t on me enough though, so we yield hindquarters and walk off a few steps and repeat. He does really well considering he’s nervous. Only wanted to toss me once to go for a run. I stay on him until I feel like he and I are working more like a team before I hop off. I would have loved to trot him, lope him, but we need a bit more work together before I add speed. Everything I’m asking of him is so different for him. Even though I want to do more, I need to take it slow. Take a few steps and give him some time off to think about it. I’d rather take it slow and get it right instead of rush it and have huge gaps all over the place in our relationship.

That’s what this is all about; us learning each other and how to work together. I don’t believe in forcing a horse to be submissive. Instead, I need to learn from him even more than he needs to learn from me. He is so smart. Give him a day off to think about it, and the following day he is ready to take the next step.

I can’t wait to see what he’s like the next time around minus a howling Goldie I hope.

P.S. Goldie did show up tonight after her escapade as a stow away. However, she is avoiding the horse trailer as if it is laced with the plague, but she is following Dulce everywhere now. I think he has a new friend.

A Coyote, A Horse, and Three Dogs

I let my hips sway with his back, and each step he loosens up more and more. I exhale and place my reins on his neck and completely let go of any apprehension. I raise my arms out to my sides and lift my face to the sky in gratitude. We both ride away from our worries.

Chaco and I on the trail right before we came across a black bear.

These tales come on the backs of some beautiful Thoroughbreds.

* * * * * * *

It’s been awhile since I rode Chaco. I love riding him, and I trust him with every ounce of my being. I’m not riding him much, because of his leg. After a couple of miracles, he is perfectly sound, so I decide to take the chance on a short trail ride. I fear messing his leg up, but he is bored out of his mind. He needs to get out, so I promise myself we’re going to go for a short, easy, and relaxed ride. I miss being with him in this way. He is so easy to ride, so intuitive and responsive, and he moves across the ground like Baryshnikov. You hardly feel the ground while on him. I’m resigned to the fact that all we will do are short rides, and that’s wonderful. He loves it, and I love it. As soon as I get on him, which can be difficult, because he is so tall, a smile spreads across my face. I lean forward and whisper, “I so miss us.”

Chaco’s leg before today has been up and down. Last month it hit me hard between the eyes and in the heart that I will one day say goodbye to him not because of old age but because of his leg. I pray for a miracle every day and eventually I was led to a couple of them. One night I found out about a way to feed a horse turmeric, and how the combination of Turmeric with Boswellia could be the anti-inflammatory punch I needed. After I found out about Total Gut Health for Dulce, I found out about Total Equine Relief made by the same company. The Turmeric was already working wonders, although he still had bouts of pain whenever he took a sharp turn at the canter. When I finally got TER, that changed things. It doesn’t have any of the side effects of bute, and it works in two hours. Ever since I put him on this, life improved for him. Each time I see it, I stop to take a picture, because I feel like I got my miracle even if it is for a short time.

We’ve decided after Christmas to try IRAP. ProStride hasn’t worked, and I don’t know if IRAP will do any better. Chaco deserves the best we can try for him. He is the sweetest horse with the biggest heart. He takes care of Dulce, he dotes on Harley, and he loves anyone that needs extra attention. A distant neighbor stopped by a couple of weeks ago to say hello to the horses, not me, and Chaco dropped his head to him and let the man rest his head upon his. Later this neighbor told me he had cancer, and how Chaco lifted his spirits on a bad day. Chaco is a healer. I want to give back to him that which he gives so freely to everyone.

We’re riding along on the easiest of trails with our dog Winx out in front, and Chewy and Bella behind. No one is around for miles, not a human sound to be heard except for my breath. I listen to the sounds of his hoof beats, and I smile. Reluctantly, we turn around with me using my body to guide him to turn back without using the reins.

That’s when we hear a yipping sound. All three of my dogs stop dead in their tracks facing west. I know this sound, the dogs know this sound, and Chaco knows it. I look west, and there he or she is. Her silvery coat sparkles in the Fall sunlight when the coyote yipped at us again. Chaco stood quietly as I called the dogs to stay with me.

This isn’t the first time I’ve crossed paths with a coyote on the trail. In fact, I have a pretty fond memory of going on a trail ride with one. It was the second time I ever rode Shandoka on the trail. It was a stupid move on my part, because I went alone. Not the smartest thing to do on a very green horse, but I believed in him. He did great on his first trail ride with my friend Laura Lee, and I couldn’t handle waiting for another day with someone else. I loaded him up and we drove down to the Basin.

We started out, and Shandoka was great despite being as green as a green horse can be. I finally got him pointed to the area I wanted us to ride into when a Coyote suddenly showed up. I expected Shandoka to react. He didn’t. We rode along while I kept my eye on the coyote and my other eye on Shandoka. The coyote quietly followed along with us, and I noticed Shandoka relaxed dropping his head down. Whenever Shandoka got nervous about something, the coyote went first to show him it was safe. I think my jaw was on Shandoka’s withers the entire ride as I watched Shandoka and this coyote dance with one another on the trail. A few times the coyote walked alongside Shandoka, and he looked up at me and smiled as if to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll get you through this ride safe and sound.” When we got back to the road where the truck was parked, the coyote disappeared. I looked all around, but I couldn’t see him anywhere.

My Unci said that Coyote was a trickster, but when he appears in an unusual way such as this, it is a Blessing. It felt like it, so when I saw this coyote while riding Chaco, I simply wanted to keep my dogs safe. Coyotes can lure dogs away, and then the pack kills them. I kept my eye on this one. He was on the other side of the canyon, which is wide and deep. He couldn’t get over to us that fast. Just then I saw him head down into its depths.

Coyotes don’t scare me as much as mountain lions do. They say that you cross paths with a mountain lion ever three hours you’re in the forest. I’ve come face to face with one, heard them, seen their tracks, and once I was followed by one while riding Shandoka.

We were heading back to the trailer after a fantastic ride through a new area. He and I worked so well together that day, and I was on cloud nine. On the way back we were both relaxed and comfortable. He was on a loose rein, and I looked around enjoying the trees when suddenly the hair on the back of my neck got prickly. Shandoka went from relaxed to alert and tense. I gathered up the rains, and slowly we walked through this area we had to get through to get back to our truck when Shandoka went from tense to life threat mode. This area is filled with oak brush, so you can’t see if something is crouching on the other side of the bush to jump out at you. When a horse hits flight mode, all bets are off, and it’s a struggle to communicate. Shandoka wanted to run. I wanted to let him, but if I did, the animal that I thought was following us would break out into a run making us his prey.

We spiraled in circles, zig zagged and anything I could do to keep him from breaking out. It took every ounce of strength I had to keep him with me instead of with his fear of what was following us. Shandoka was a huge horse, the most powerful I’ve ever ridden, and I don’t know how I kept him at a walk. As soon as we got to the trailer, I hopped off, and Shandoka literally loaded himself with saddle and headstall still on. I closed the trailer as quick as I could, got into my truck when I saw him. A mountain lion emerged from the Aspens pausing for a moment staring into my eyes, and before my next breath, he was gone.

The dogs and I are moving along the trail when the coyote appears on our side of the canyon within minutes. Dang they are fast and agile. Time to pick up the speed and get the dogs in the truck. We have a half mile to go, and I’m worried about doing this to Chaco’s leg. I wanted him to enjoy an easy, relaxing ride; one that didn’t tax his leg. However, if we kept going at this pace, the coyote would be on the dogs quick. My dogs are too curious about the coyote to go slow. We long trot over rock and dirt. Chaco is unphased. Chaco feels my urgency, so he immediately moves into an extended trot.

On one of Chaco’s first major trail rides we came across a bear. I think on our way down the trail he caught a whiff of this female bear, at least we assumed she was a sow. We came to this spot on the trail where he was hesitant about stepping forward. The entire way down he led the way without a problem until this one spot. My friend then went to the lead, and he followed easily. We came across elk, which horses normally don’t like the smell of, but he didn’t care about them. On the way back when we came upon that spot, we saw her. There she was off in the trees maybe 150 feet from us, a black bear. Chaco didn’t back up, didn’t get nervous, and in fact he stepped forward towards the bear when we tried to get a picture of her. We think she had cubs nearby, so we decided to move on quickly. Chaco and I were in the rear with the dogs tucked up close to his hindlegs. He never minded any of it, so I wasn’t worried about him with this coyote.

As we long trotted, Winx stayed in front of us, and Chewy and Bella were tucked in close to Chaco’s hindlegs. Chewy had no interest in hanging around with the coyote, Bella wanted to chase him off, and Winx was looking for some shade to lie down in. I knew if I needed to chase off the coyote, Chaco would help me do it, but luckily the coyote hung back far enough for me to not consider it.

We got back to the truck, I hopped off, and there was the coyote about 200 feet away sitting in some sage brush gazing at me as I gazed at him. I knew we all were safe at this point. I stepped forward a step to get a better look at him. He seemed to have a big smile on his face. Like my dogs he sat their panting in that relaxed sort of joy they have after a good run. Another blessing.

A coyote, a horse, and three dogs enjoying the trail together.