Sometimes I'm Tempted...

                                               by Laura Crum

            I don’t need another horse. In fact, not only do I not need one, I can’t have one. I have five corrals and there are five horses here. No room for another horse-- period. But a couple of weeks ago I saw one that tempted me.

            Sometimes people ask me how I found my steady, reliable geldings. The answer is that I knew these horses to be reliable and bought them when they came up for sale, or I made a good offer on them. But what if you don’t have that luxury? How do you sort out whether to buy a horse that you don’t know? So I thought I’d tell you about this horse that I very much wanted to buy—and explain why I would have been willing to take a chance on her.

            Yes, I said her. Those who know me know that I am a gelding person—I don’t want to own a mare. And that was the single biggest stopper about this horse in my eyes. She was a she. But had I needed a horse, I still would have bought her.  Here’s why.

            My friend Mark, who buys and sells horses, and trains horses, and hauls horses, and holds horses for our local horse vet, and also team ropes with us, brought a little bay mare up to the roping arena a couple of weeks ago. It is not at all unusual for Mark to show up with a new trading horse—it happens all the time. And I always ask about them, particularly if I like the look of them. Even though I know I can’t buy a horse right now, I’m always interested.

            Mark tied this mare to the arena fence, on the outside. I immediately guessed that she probably didn’t have any experience with roping—horses that don’t are liable to panic if a roping run comes in their direction. But this mare stood calmly at the fence, tied solid, not squealing or pinning her ears at the horses tied near her, not pawing or neighing or fretting, not nervous—she stood patiently. She didn’t seem worried about the roping at all.

            When I had a chance I asked Mark about her. He said she was a flunked out cowhorse. She was twelve years old and knew the drill but she just wasn’t fancy enough to win on. The cowhorse trainer who had been riding her had convinced the owner to sell her, and the mare had been on the market for a fairly high price, but there had been no offers. She was said to be gentle for beginners, a little on the lazy side, and good on the trail. She was solid bay, a plain looking horse, and about 14.2, with good bone. She was barefoot, with nice, big (for her size) round feet. Mark had picked her up that very morning (paying very little for her—the owner/trainer were both desperate to move her)-- and brought her to our roping arena. And despite the fact that she was in a completely new place and had probably never seen a roping before, she was as calm as could be. I really liked her.

            When we took a break, Mark climbed on her. Just cinched up and got on, which, of course, you damn sure ought to be able to do with a twelve year old said-to-be-kid-gentle horse. The mare was pretty well broke by my standards—took both leads, could spin, had a nice stop, turned with a cow in a very handy way, and did it all very cool and calm. She looked absolutely sound. Mark had picked her up for $2500 and he had someone that planned to buy her that afternoon for $5000 as a kid’s horse. I was just drooling over her.

            “If you give me the $5000 you can have her,” Mark said. And you know, I was really tempted.

            This mare had shown me everything I want to see. Calm and relaxed in a new place. Laid back to ride, handy and well broke, pleasant around other horses, sound, with good bone and good looking feet. Twelve years old—which is just about perfect if you want trouble free, but still has some good years left. And she was little, and bay (which is my favorite color). She just looked like the right kind, and I really wanted her. But, of course, I had to say no.

            Which is maybe partly why when Mark and I went for a ride a few days later and he showed me a photo of a puppy he was getting as part of another horse trading deal and asked me if I wanted her, well, I said yes.

            I mean there were reasons. The puppy was a corgi, and my son was lobbying for a corgi, as he loves the corgi dog that belongs to his cousins. And our little dog Star has seemed a bit lonely and mopey since our old dog, Jojo, died in February. I had been saying that she needed a companion. And this puppy was the runt of the litter and was supposed to be very small for a corgi, which would be just right to be a good playmate for Star. So yeah, I had logical reasons. But mostly I just looked at that cute puppy in the photo and thought, well here’s something I can say yes to. It felt right. So I did.

            And thus we have Cleo. Short for Cleopatra, queen of all she surveys. She’s a really good puppy. And here, with further ado, are photos:

Cleo—on her first day with us.

            Meeting Star.

            Playing with her boy.

            Sleeping.

            Boy and dogs are very happy together—Cleo and Star are best friends already.

            Such a sweet, happy, confident, little dog.

            Anyone else have any insights on how to pick a horse—or a dog?

            

Southbound!

It happened at the end of January. I was sitting at my computer, once again trawling the “Horses for Sale” section of Horse and Hound online for potentially interesting Warmbloods, when, suddenly, up popped a dappled grey Andalusian stabled somewhere in England. He was about the right age, about the right price, and sounded as though he was schooled to a pretty good level of dressage. I’ve always been attracted to Iberian horses, but had only ever ridden lackadaisical riding school horses on trail rides while holidaying in Ibiza. I knew they tend to be comfortable, good natured, and possess a natural ability to collect.

Other than that, I knew nada, apart from the fact that Swiss dressage judges tend not to like them, mostly because they are often a little limited in the trot department. But I wasn’t too bothered about the Swiss dressage judges. If I go to one or two shows per year it’s more than enough for me.

Also, I’d seen loads of videos of Warmbloods, and it was becoming more and more obvious that anything I really really liked was way out of my budget.

Might I be better off going south and looking at Spanish horses?

So I fired off an email, enquiring about the Andalusian advertised in “Horse and Hound”. Soon afterwards, my trainer, Marie-Valentine, called to discuss the trials and tribulations of our ongoing search for my perfect horse. “What about an Andalusian?” I said, unsure of how she’d react.

I could almost hear her brain processing the idea down the phone line. Then she said, “You know, that might be a good idea! You’ve always liked them, and although you don’t like to compete, you enjoy doing the fun stuff (she meant flying changes, piaffe, passage, etc), and they’re really good at that. Yes, I can picture you on an Andalusian! And, hey, how fun would it be to go south to Spain instead of north to Gemany?!”

At that point, our conversation soon became rather squealy and schoolgirlish, both of us geting thoroughly carried away, picturing ourselves down in sunny Malaga, spending our mornings trying fabulous horses, before pottering down to the spend the afternoons at the beach.

There was, however, one small problem. How the heck were we going to find those fabulous Spanish horses? Apart from an American friend living in Aachen who specializes in Spanish horses, my trainer didn’t know who to contact. And when I received a video of the “Horse and Hound” Andalusian I’d found on the internet, it didn’t have the level of movement I was looking for.

Determined to find something suitable, I Googled Spanish horses until I turned, well, google-eyed. I watched dozens of online videos. Nothing. Well, nothing for me. I contacted a dealer in Madrid, who sent me private videos. Too young. Too Baroc. Too little trot. No extension. Too little walk. Or drop-dead-knockout, but way too expensive! Marie-Valentine’s contact in Germany had contacted a contact in Malaga, but that contact had yet to contact us.

Argh! I was frustrated. I wanted to go and look at horses!

And then, one afternoon, Marie-Valentine rang me. She’d spoken to another dressage trainer and asked whether he had reliable contacts for good Spanish horses. He’d told her he’d put out some feelers, that he knew a few people, and would get back to her. Within twenty-four hours he rang to tell her there was a really nice Lusitano waiting for us to go take a look at him near Avignon, in the south of France. He was seven years old, a stallion, with a good level of training. There were no videos, no photos available. But he knew from reliable sources that this horse was a good one.

So a week later, not utterly convinced it was worth making the trip, yet impatient to start horse shopping, we hopped into my car and embarked on a four-hour drive south. Marie-Valentine had never taken a client to see a horse without viewing it on video. Also, she’s never ridden an Iberian horse in her life. Yet here there we were, on our way to a blind date with a Lusitano stallion!

“What if he’s awful?” I blurted, my stomach churning with nerves as we our destination grew closer.

Marie-Valentine shrugged. “If he’s awful, we’ll say thank you very much and we’ll leave. I’ll make a few phone calls, and we’ll go find some other horses to look at. A friend of mine mentioned a place not too far away. I mean, what else can we do?”

We reached the outskirts of Avignon, left the highway and followed my GPS’ instructions along country roads through pretty Provencal villages. We turned left at an old monastery and soon found ourselves deep in the countryside.

“Why do we live where we live?” exclaimed Marie-Valentine as we drooled over the silver grey olive trees, the green oaks, and blossoming fruit trees. Here, 400 or so kilometers south of a still frost-bitten Geneva, spring was already in the air. We rolled down the windows and took giant breaths of the pungent, herb-scented, Provencal air. How I wish I could import it!

Once we reached the stables, we were greeted by a smiling, blue-eyed man escorted by a couple of hyperactive Jack Russell terriers.

“Are you ready?” said Marie-Valentine, winking at me.

“I hope he’s pretty,” I replied, trembling, nervous as heck as I flopped out of the car.

“Bonjour mesdames, vous avez fait bon voyage?” asked the man in his lovely sing-song Provencal accent (okay, so I love everything about the Mediterranean!).

We replied that, yes, we’d have a nice trip, enthusing over how great it was to be in this beautiful part of the world. My knees shook as we followed him down a little dirt track and around the corner to the stables where a row of aloof Lusitano stallions gave us the once over.

Right at the back, in the last loose box, a young woman was plaiting a big, beautiful, dark bay horse.

As we drew closer, Marie-Valentine nudged me in the ribs. “Il est magnifique,” she whispered, wide-eyed.

We observed the horse as they saddled him up and bandaged his legs. He stood quietly, placidly. He had soft, warm, translucent eyes edged by endless lashes. He had a thick, black, wavy tail. Judging from his double row of plaits, he obviously had a very thick mane, too! He was beautifully proportioned, chunky yet not too chunky, with a short back, a nice bottom, a strong neck, and lovely clean legs.

Could we have got lucky the first time out, I wondered, grabbing my helmet and struggling into my riding boots? Chill, Cesca, I told myself. Sure, he was beautiful, but what was his movement like?

My trainer and I held our breath as the young woman led this stunning dark bay stallion out into the yard and up the hill towards a large, circular arena. He stood quietly as she mounted and moved off into a lovely walk. So far so good. She pushed him into trot. Not bad! He filled his tracks nicely, which from what I’d seen on the internet, is hard to find in Iberian horses. A few minutes later, she asked him to canter and he obliged, showing a lovely smooth, uphill movement. The lateral work was good, the flying changes a little insecure, but the basic work was well established, with no sign of unwillingness or bad behavior. And gosh, the guy was seriously flashy!

To be perfectly honest, I was pretty intimidated. I’ve only ridden Kwintus in the past few years, haven’t really ridden at all since last summer, and to suddenly climb onto a much bigger, far greener, seven-year-old Lusitano stallion was a little scary. But I bunged on my helmet, took a deep breath and mounted.

Wow! What a totally different feeling! He was far less stable than Kwint, and I had a hard time keeping him straight, or even moving in a straight line (the circular arena didn't help). He moved sideways at the slightest shift of my weight in the saddle and at the tiniest backward movement of my legs (and boy, did my legs want to slide backwards! I couldn’t seem to keep them long at all! Why?!). His trot felt impressively forward and easy to sit, and his canter was a dream. All in all, I had a really good sensation.

When I rode him the next day, he felt even better. I was no longer quite as intimidated, and any residual nerves soon evaporated as this lovely horse did his best to understand what I was asking. You should have seen the smile on my face when I dismounted!

Will he be coming back to live next to Kwintus? I hope so. The vet check is scheduled for March 8th, so I’m counting the days, my fingers crossed he’ll flex fine, that nothing dodgy will show up on the x-rays. Meanwhile, I’m drooling over his photographs, and soothing my sore muscles in plenty of hot water.

The New Horse Bug

Earlier this week, a fellow rider posted an ad for a horse for sale on our barn Yahoo loop. For the heck of it, I clicked on the Craig's List link. That was my first mistake. Now, I'm not really an Arabian person, but this handsome fellow looked like a small warmblood with a quality head, nice big body, and was about 16 hands. He'd had some professional dressage training (very little, but some). He'd been shown at Arabian regionals in various classes and done well. Even better, he was only $3000. A major bargain for the bucks. But then, in this economy, there are most likely tons of bargains.

I fell in love. In fact, I fantasized over having a sound horse again. For the first time in 13 years, I got the new horse bug. I mentioned my by now future horse to a co-worker of mine, who is constantly trolling Dream Horse and Craig's List for horses. She knew exactly the horse I mentioned then proceeded to burst my new horse bubble. Unintentionally, of course. It seems I overlooked one very large fact. He's ten years old.

Maybe that doesn't sold too old for many people, but for me, it was the deal breaker, not that I'd even seen the horse to make a deal on him. Especially considering he'd really not been trained in dressage so he was probably 4-5 years behind the curve for his age. Nope, not going to work for me.

A few days later, I had a lesson on Gailey. She was stiff and felt a little off. Not enough to quit riding her, but enough to know she isn't ever going to recover enough to do upper level dressage, even at home. I talked to my trainer (who is also a long-time friend) and mentioned I'd actually considering the Arabian posted by one of her students earlier in the week.

We talked at length, since the lesson after mine had cancelled. We discussed what I'd do with Gailey if I bought another horse. I have options. One is to bring her home, but then I'd need an additional animal to keep her company, and I really don't want to take care of two horses. Another was offer her as a lease to someone who might be interested in breeding her. Even my trainer said she might toy with the idea herself as Gailey is such a nice mare.

Then she told me about a fellow student of hers who is having a "fire sale" because of a divorce. She has a well-broke five year old going 2nd level I might be able to get for cheap or at least on payments. I immediately went to the student's website and looked at a video and fell in love again (I know, I'm fickle). Here, I made another mistake. Instead of calling on the horse, I emailed about it. A few days later, I received an email back stating two others were already looking at the mare, and she'd let me know if it didn't work out.

I'm pretty sure I lost out on the chance. :(

I can't decide if it's a message from a higher being to forget the new horse for now or if I should keep plugging along. It's really bad timing for my hubbie and I. He has recently found out that he may possibly have a debilitating disease. We'll know more next month when he goes to Seattle for 2 days of tests. Our kids have asked for our help in buying a house for their growing family, so any cash we have will be tied up in that, which we're more than happy to do. Is it really the time for me to be horse hunting?

I've avoided looking at Craig's List or Dream Horse or the local horse magazine, Flying Changes. I fear if I do, I'll be obsessed with purchasing a new horse even though I have no money to buy one.

I'm trying to convince myself I'd be better off buying some Arthri-Eze to help Gailey with her arthritis and ride the horse I have. Such is my life right now.

Yet, for a brief moment in time, I got excited about riding again, about showing, about giving all of this another shot. If nothing else comes out of my brief foray into purchasing a new horse, at least, I now realize the horse bug is still alive and well inside me. I'll just have to live through Francesa for now as she hunts for a her next dream horse.

Finding a Horse

by Laura Crum


Or perhaps the title should be, “Helping a Beginner to Find a Horse”. I’ve written on this blog before about how to find a bombproof horse, and I’ve written quite a bit about the two bombproof geldings (Henry and Sunny) I found for myself and my son to trail ride. Nonetheless, it is not that easy to find such a horse—one that is sound and has some years of use left in him. When, back in June, a woman I know through our homeschool group asked for my help in finding such a horse for her family, I tried to be helpful, but in truth, I don’t think I did her much good.

Of course, had I known of a horse like Henry or Sunny that was for sale, I would have recommended said horse at once. But I didn’t. I knew of a gray horse that was said to be that gentle, but I didn’t personally know the horse, other than seeing him once at a practice roping. Nonetheless I told “Nancy” about this horse, and put her in touch with the owner, reminding Nancy that I didn’t really know the horse.

Nancy drove an hour to try the horse, along with her teenage daughter, who is a fairly competent rider and the main reason the family is in the market for a horse. Nancy herself is very timid and fearful with horses and has no desire to go faster than the walk on a very gentle horse. Apparently on the day they tried the gray horse, the wind was blowing and the horse was jiggy and even the normally fearless daughter was uncomfortable riding him. Not at all suitable said the mom.

I apologized for leading them astray, said again that I just didn’t have time to accompany them on horse hunting expeditions, and (with conditions) recommended a young guy I’ve blogged about before (I call him “Bill”) as a helper. Bill is a struggling young horse trainer. Always short of money, always trying to make a dime. You probably know the breed. Young and charming, basically well-intentioned, a pretty good hand with a horse. Nonetheless, always trying to make that dime. You have to watch him. That said, Bill’s niche is finding gentle horses for beginners and he is good at it. My Sunny horse originally came from Bill, and Bill, though he never owned him, was a huge fan of my son’s horse, Henry. Bill knows how to pick them.

I told Nancy about Bill, and told her just how I saw him. “He is really competent at finding the sort of horse you want, but I would at least vet any horse he recommends, especially if he’s selling it to you or getting a commission on it. I would definitely ask Bill for help (and I did) if I was looking for a family horse.”

So Nancy meets Bill and really likes him. She also likes the older gelding named Walt that Bill wants to sell her. I watched her try the horse—nervous Nancy looked and felt pretty safe on old Walt. The teenage daughter rode him competently. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like Walt was sound. No bob, but an odd shuffle behind. Bill concurred that Walt definitely had something going on high up in the rear end. Bill didn’t know exactly what was wrong with the horse. Walt was in his late teens. The price was fairly high, all things considered. I told Nancy that Walt might be the right sort for her, but I would vet him and try to find out what was wrong with him before I bought a lame horse. If his problem deteriorated, he migt become unridable or worse. It just depended on what the problem was. I also said that if it were me, I might use Bill as a consultant, paying him his fee for this, rather than buying a horse from him. That way Bill’s best interests would be Nancy’s best interests.

I’m not sure how all this affected Nancy. Perhaps it offended her. Perhaps she saw what I consider business as usual in the horse world as consorting with a bunch of double dealing crooks. Who knows? I left on my month long trip shortly thereafter. When I returned, I saw Bill, and he said he had never heard back from Nancy. Nancy has never called me back, either. I have considered calling her several times and I just can’t make myself do it. Call me selfish, but it’s a thankless task trying to help non-horse people find a horse.

No matter how good my intentions are, and how much experience I have, if I don’t really know the horse Nancy is considering, my opinion on him won’t be worth much. Its just an educated guess. And if that horse doesn’t work out for Nancy, or it goes lame, or worse yet, hurts her or her daughter, she’s likely to blame me, or at the very least, think I’m an idiot. Its not easy to find the right horse, even if you have a lot of experience. Thus my reluctance to call Nancy back.

And there’s another aspect to this. Maybe I’m over reacting, but I feel responsible for the horse when I am the one who has placed it in a home with someone who is not a horseman. About a year ago I wrote on this blog about placing a retired team roping horse named Harley (retired because of a suspensory tear) with a woman who wanted to “get into” horses, but, though a good, responsible animal owner, was certainly not a horseman. Lots of people wrote in and said I should give it a try—how else do any of us become horsemen without starting out as beginners? Fair enough. I placed Harley in this home, and they have done a fantastic job with him, rehabbing him and riding him lightly. All seemed well.

However, it was the woman’s twenty something son who was doing most of the work with the horse and now that son is leaving home. I was made aware over the course of the year that this woman who wanted to “get back into horses” was actually quite timid, and was never brave enough to ride Harley, though she let her son lead her around on him. She even seemed a bit afraid to handle him on the ground. And, as I said on the blog, Harley is not really a beginner’s horse. He’s a very well broke horse but he has a fair amount of life.

So now I find out through the grapevine that the woman is trying to decide whether to give Harley back or not. She isn’t sure if she can cope with the horse without her son. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure if she can cope with Harley, either. I don’t know what I hope—that she keeps him (she is giving him a loving home and he looks great) or gives him back (because I’m afraid she may get hurt or at the very least frightened and the horse may get hurt or badly spoiled). However, I really, really do not want to try to find another home for this horse as we tilt into fall, when all knowledgable horse folk are thinking of paring down their herd, not adding to it. So I guess I hope she keeps him. But aaargh! I feel all too responsible for the whole situation, since it was me that arranged for this horse to come to these people. I am thinking that I just don’t want to be involved with hooking up any more non-horse people with a horse. Is that totally selfish of me?

So that’s my question for today. Have any of you been in the position of helping a beginner to find a horse? How did it work out for you? Any suggestions?