Meet Nancy Di Fabbio

Today we have a guest blog from Nancy Di Fabbio - a horsewoman who didn't get to satisfy her passion for horses until later in life, but who now owns four of them.



She also has a new book out called Midnight Magic - Be Careful What You Wish For - which is a spooky thriller about a haunted painting, a mysterious Morgan stallion and the girl that loves him.





Please enjoy this tongue-in-cheek blog post about Nancy's purchase of a very green horse, and their first horse show together (which she actually lived through.)

WHY DO WE DO THIS TO OURSELVES? 

 As a 42-year-old rookie, I met Trinity and was immediately enchanted by his beauty, diminutive stature and fun-loving personality. He was a four-year-old Morgan with a pinch of Arab, as green as a prized emerald, and had more energy than a nuclear reactor but he sure was cute.

I bought him on the spot, and even though all the professionals thought he was my ticket to the hereafter, I loved him and gleefully sped around the ring on him at warp speed. When I finally sucked up enough courage to participate in my first horse show, I chose him to be my partner, even though I already owned two tried-and-trued show horses.

My best friend, Georgina, who was also a late-bloomer, accompanied me to a local 4-H show. While she sauntered off to sign me up for my pleasure classes, I asked a nearby horsewoman to help me unload The Meenster. (Yes, his name is Trinity, but he earned this nick-name, short for "mini-monster.") As I let down the ramp, puffed up with pride, I told her that this was my first horse show. (I was 45.) "Good for you!" she said - until Trinity blasted out of the trailer like a rocket off the launch pad.

She blanched and asked, "Ummm - does he lunge?"

Completely at ease with my little maniac, I replied, "Yes, but he'll be fine under tack. Lunging will only rev him um." Cringing, she slunk away - probably to alert the EMT's.

When my friend returned, even she looked a bit wan as she witnessed him in full stallion mode. (He's actually a gelding, but nobody has ever convinced him of this sorry fact.) I knew he was no pleasure horse, but I had chosen this class because it was held in a huge field, not a ring. I knew he was going to be booking, and I wanted room to avoid the other competitors. I entered the field and slowly walked him around as the other riders trotted, cantered, or galloped by. I learned long ago that you can't wear him out; it's better to keep him calm, allow him to scope out the area and prepare himself for what is to come.

As soon as the twenty-five competitors entered the field, (yes, 25!) the judge's voice blared, "Walk, all riders, please walk."

Admittedly, I was a nervous wreck, but The Meenster performed perfectly at the walk and trot; the canter was a completely different story. The thundering of one hundred hooves awoke the wild beast within the horsey beast, and soon we were flying past Thoroughbreds and Quarter horses like they were standing still. My poor friend, who was watching from the sidelines, looked like she'd just eaten a bucket of bad clams, as riders flew off their mounts like popcorn kernels on a hot griddle.

When they mercifully called for the walk, The Meenster immediately responded and we lined up in the center of the field. Not surprisingly, we didn't win a ribbon, but I felt amazing. It's one thing to get a blue on an experienced show horse at the age of 14, and quite another to survive pandemonium on The Meenster as a middle-aged rookie!

Thanks so much for dropping by and visiting Nancy, and sharing that great *cough* show experience! We are glad you both survived! To learn more, as well as Nancy's other interesting occupation, please visit her website at http://www.nancydifabbio.com/

Feeling Good

by Laura Crum

The title of this post is a bit ironic, as I have been sick for the past ten days. But there are still some ways in which “Feeling Good” describes my life. Look at the photo below.

This is my 32 year old horse, Gunner, when I brought him home from the pasture on Thanksgiving Day 2011. He doesn’t look too bad for such an old horse—especially one that’s been out on pasture. Since then I have put at least 50-100 more pounds on him. Nothing will change his dropped back and peaked rump, which are the results of old age, but Gunner has a nice layer of adipose tissue all over his body. No ribs or hipbones to be seen or felt.

Anyway, living the good life as he is, Gunner is feeling pretty good. He surprised me the other day when I got him out to graze. Head and tail up, he pranced along beside me on the leadrope like a 2 yr old TB being led to the post.

“Come on,” I said, tugging on the rope. “You’re 32 now, not 2. You should be able to walk. All the other horses walked out to graze.”

Gunner wasn’t interested in walking. He pranced along, snorting and spooking at various things. I rolled my eyes. “I can’t believe I have to deal with this in a 32 year old horse.” Inwardly I was feeling pretty happy. My old horse felt good enough to behave like a colt. How cool was that?

Cool or not, Gunner felt so damn good that he couldn’t settle down to graze. Of course, he gets fed free choice hay and an ample ration of equine senior delight feed. He is never hungry. But I thought he’d enjoy being turned loose to graze. Well…I was never able to turn him loose. My property is fenced on the side with neighbors and a driveway and I keep the gate closed—the back of it is steep, brush-covered hills—not fenced. No horse has ever tried to escape that way—even so, I turn the horses loose one at a time and if they quit grazing and start roaming, they get caught and returned to their pens. I let Gunner graze on the leadrope for awhile and every thirty seconds his head would come up and he’d start to prance around me. It was perfectly clear that if I turned him loose, he’d start to run around.

After ten minutes of this, I gave up and led my prancing old horse back to his large corral and released him. You should have seen him. Head up and tail up, breathing out those long, rolling snorts, Gunner trotted up and down the two hundred foot length of his corral in a floaty trot—perfectly sound, I was tickled to see. This got some of the other horses excited and pretty soon my two retirees and my boarder were racing around at a gallop, whirling and spinning and throwing in plenty of bucks. Gunner definitely looked like he was two years old, rather than thirty-two. Our two saddle horses, Henry and Sunny, who had just been ridden and turned out to graze, watched all this with bemused expressions, feeling no need to gallop after their ride. My son and I both laughed to see Gunner feeling so good.

Having two retired horses is hard on me spacewise—they take two of my four available large corrals. They cost me more in feed than my using horses. My chore load is increased as I have two extra horses to care for—that I don’t ride or get any “use” out of. It doesn’t make any logical sense to keep them. But…

There is nothing like the joy I feel in having my old horses with me—both of whom have been my horses since they were three years old. I don’t feel burdened to have them, I feel blessed. I bought Gunner twenty-nine years ago as a just turned three year old with maybe thirty rides on him. He was green as grass. I trained him myself and he competed successfully at cowhorse, cutting and roping. Not to mention all the gathers and trail rides we did. He was my main riding horse for over ten years. We have so many memories together. And I smile every single time I see his blaze-face looking brightly at me. I feel so lucky.

So there are two of us who are feeling good. Gunner and me. And today I want to say something that I have said before. Others have said it, too—on this blog and elsewhere. But its worth saying over and over. Please, all of you, keep your good, old horses and retire them when their working life is done. Its Ok to find them a home as a leadline horse or a companion horse, if that works, but keep track of them, stand behind them, take them back if its needed. Give them the reward they deserve for the work they have given you. Do not suppose that it is the job of a horse rescue, or some other entity, to take care of your old horse when he is no longer ridable. And do not expect that you are going to sell/give him to a “good home” that will take perfect care of him for the rest of his life. This CAN happen, but it’s the exception rather than the rule. Nope—no matter how inconvenient it is, it is your job to take care of your old horse—no one else’s.

And I am here to say that if you do this job, and take care of your horse, you will never regret it. It is worth the time and money spent, a thousand times over. It will fill your heart with joy and peace. Contrast this with wondering for the rest of your life about what became of old Red, who gave you so much, and “hoping” Red found a good home for his last days. Believe me, folks, there is no good karma or peace of mind in that. Nor is it very likely that an old not-sound horse will luck into a good forever home. Far more likely that he eventually ends up at the sale, and then on a truck to Mexico or Canada. Even if you find him a “good home”, how likely is it that someone who has owned an old horse less than a year will pony up with the money for taking care of him if he is hurt or crippled or ill? Think about it. You need to stand behind him.

Horse rescues do good and important work, but today I want to give a shout out to every single owner who keeps and retires their good old horses and takes care of them until the end. Thank you, all of you, for what you are doing to improve the lot of horses in this world. And those of you who are trying to decide what to do with an old friend, please pay attention. This is both your responsibility—and one of the greatest gifts you will ever be given.

OK, I’m climbing off the soapbox now. All feedback is welcome.

PS—Also on the “feeling good” subject, my second book, “Hoofprints” is now available on Kindle for 99 cents. Here is the link. The first one, “Cutter” is there, too, for the same price. Here is that link. I hope/expect to have the first eight books, which are all out of print, up on Kindle by April 1^st. I will let you know as they get there. I’m hoping some of you who enjoy horse stories will be moved to give my books a try at this price. The series features an equine vet as a protagonist, and each book is set in an area of the horse world where I’ve spent much time. “Cutter” revolves around the world of cutting horses, and “Hoofprints” is set in the reined cowhorse arena. And dear old Gunner (and my other retiree, Plumber) have starring roles in the stories. I’d love to get your feedback/reviews on these books.

When to say when

This is going to be one of my shorter posts because today, frankly, has been the day from hell which is only matched by last week and the horse show from hell. The details of how crappy my horse show was last week on Uiver would take far more energy to describe than I currently have at the moment. Lets just say that, anyone who has shown knows, there are just shows that are jinxed from the start and only get worse and then bad show management, a mediocre facility and discrepancies and inconsistencies in judging combine to make in nearly unbareable. That was my show last week and yes I am ranting a bit.

But I digress from bad to worse. My day started with a confrontation (which has been needing to happen for a long time) with my barn help over taking a very lackadaisical approach to her work. She has been doing less and less over the past several months and constantly complaining about too much work and one feigned pain or illness after another. After I laid down the law on the issue because, oh yes I am her boss and I pay her, she proceeded to quit. So anyone looking for a job in California? It seems that asking someone to actually do the job they are being paid for is far too much to ask. Go figure.

Then to just put more icing and such a lovely cake of a day, my beloved 30 year old lesson pony Tahoe, either collapsed or cast himself in his stall. After getting him up he was very ataxic and clearly disoriented and then collapsed a second time, almost as if he was fainting. When my vet got here she listened to his heart and told me that his heart murmur, which has been mild and we have been monitoring for years, was very pronounced. So did he have a heart attack, or a stroke, or a seizure of some kind?? She could not say for sure but after DMSO and fluids, he did stabilize and tonight seems to be better although a little weak.

So that brings to my title question - When to say when? Tahoe has been in very light work (only a few days a week) and ridden by a 7 year old girl in pony club. Sadly for her Tahoe's Pony Club days are over and he is now completely retired. For me, Tahoe's case is a clear decision, what happened today tells me it would not be fair to him or safe for him to be ridden again. But for other older horse's when do you say when?? I know I will be asking myself that question relatively soon with Pete who is now 23. Pete is sound and appears to enjoy his job as a schoolmaster, but he is so giving and so stoic of a horse I am not sure he will tell me when he should be retired unless something obvious like a lameness or illness happens.

A week ago yesterday, I had the unfortunate experience of witnessing a wonderful, 27 year old schoolmaster of a mare fall on a jump and fracture her stifle. Needless to say she had to be euthanized and both the young lady riding her and her owners were devastated. Before her tragic death, this mare was sound, spunky and happy to be working. Should she have been retired sooner? She did at least die doing the thing she loved the most in the world - jump, but how do you know when to make that decision. Some horses are so giving, and want to please so badly, I think it must be our responsibility to make that decision for them.

What do you all think?? Thanks for letting me vent, it has made me feel better. I look forward to your comments.

Finding the Inner Child

As I mentioned in a previous post, I have morphed into a thrifting, picking, crazed, treasure hunter feeding my booth in an antique mall. At the old age of 60, I have discovered a new passion, and I feel as if I am a little kid again. Yesterday, I was knee deep in a storage shed 'picking' old wooden school chairs and desks from an assortment of trash. I came home with a van full of dirty treasures including a 1960's radio in wonderful condition and a school desk and chair from the 1920s complete with hole for an inkwell. Then this morning, I woke at 5:30, too excited to sleep. Walked and fed the dogs and horses in below-freezing temps, piled into the van before my husband (and the sun) was up, and headed to an indoor yard sale.

My adrenalin was pumping as I hurried into the church hall. I'd never been to this particular venue and figured it would be filled with kids' clothes and old purses. But when I walked inside, the first thing I spied was BREYER HORSES!

I galloped over to that table like my horse Relish races to his grain bucket. Right now, my booth does not have a horse 'section' but I have been slowly collecting an interesting array of horse stuff to create a nice display. I have vintage Thelwell books, hunt scene place mats, a needlepoint hunt pillow and a brass horse towel holder (don't ask.) But I was missing Breyer. My own collection suffers from chipped ears and broken legs (from hard riding) and I really didn't want to part with them. So finding Breyers with good prices was a treat. The problem? My heart took over my brain.

I wisely picked three horses still in boxes as well as a bag of miniatures (I knew not all were Breyer in the bag, which was okay because they were all cute.) I unwisely did not check the name of the horse on the box with the horse inside the box until I got them home. Um. Snookered.
I have the horses, and I have the boxes, but they don't match. And really, I am happy with the price, and as my husband said "It was a ten dollar mistake, so who cares" but oh how I wish I had kept my head and scrutinized each horse and box. If I'm going to be 'good' at this business of thrifting and picking, I have to make smart choices. Fortunately, I redeemed myself at the same yard sale with a Winnie the Pooh jewel box full of the complete set of Madame Alexander Wizard of Oz dolls (McDonald's happy meal prizes in 2007)that are absolutely adorable and worth four times what I paid. In the end, it did balance out.

So if anyone needs a box for Polo Pony No. 733. I've got one. And what in the world is "Bareback Riding Gift Set"? I couldn't find it online, so have no idea what should be in that box, but I know it's not the prancing pony I found. Or if someone wants to sell me polo pony 733 or Bareback Gift Set, let me know. Hey, let me know if you are ready to sell any of your horse statues, china horses, stuffed horses, Billy and Blaze books . . .you get the picture. I have a home--and love-- for them all!

Feeding Issues

Six colics in a month? Seriously? Yes. Six horses have colicked at my stables in the past month. One horse died, as nobody noticed until it was way too late to do anything but put the poor animal out of his misery. Qrac inherited his stable, which, for him, was a good thing, as it’s far nicer, lighter and roomier than his old one. But the thought of what that poor horse went through still makes me ill.

I only moved Qrac there in November, when the place where he lived before didn’t manage to build their indoor in time for the winter. Initially, everything seemed pretty hunky dory. The indoor is fantastic; it’s huge with a great floor. The new stable block (where Qrac now lives) is fab. There’s a solarium (pay per go) which I almost always use before and after a ride as it’s great for Qrac’s muscles, not to mention lovely to be under when it’s minus a bazillion degrees. There’s a nice, friendly crowd (although, like in every stable, there’s bound to be a little meowy stuff going on). Until very recently, I always thought that the only real negative point was the fact that it’s 60 kms from where I live.

But in the past couple of weeks it’s become blatantly obvious to me that this place’s giant negative point is that the horses aren’t fed properly. Feeding times are mega irregular; for instance it seems that last night the horses only got their grain at eleven o’clock. Hay is distributed at around six in the evening, after which the horses don’t get any more until eleven o’clock the next morning, when all the mucking out is over, which means the morning feed (I’m guessing around seven, give or take an hour) is served on an empty stomach. Lunch is served between eleven forty-five and twelve-thirty, although when Qrac was in the old stable block there were a couple of times when he didn’t get lunch at all. I complained and, as far as I know, it didn’t happen again. Also, since they don’t provide bran mash, I buy my own and feed Qrac three small portions a week. I’ve never been at a stable where bran mash wasn’t provided on a weekly basis, but maybe I’ve been spoiled. I don’t know.

The crazy thing is that, from what I’ve been told, whenever anyone has pointed out that horses need regular feeding hours to cater to their delicate stomachs, they’ve been blown off. Like, yeah yeah yeah, whatever. Insist a little too vehemently and you’re apparently given an earful. But in the last few days, when yet another horse developed a colic, people are getting worried. I’m very worried. Today, there was talk of calling a meeting and confronting the owners, as people who have been there for a long period of time say there’s no way anything will change unless everyone comes together as a group, and that, even then, chances are there will just be angry words exchanged, lots of eye rolling and maybe a slight improvement for a couple of days. Hmmmm.... Another worrisome issue for me is that nobody checks on the horses in the late evening to make sure everyone is alright. If someone did, the previous occupant of Qrac’s current stable might still be alive…

As you can imagine, I’m at a bit of a loss as to what to do. Qrac means the world to me and the idea of him being in danger because of ignorance/laziness/negligence/whatever really freaks me out. I’m going to drive up to look at another place closer to where I live early next week, since the yard where I’d like to end up still has no vacancies, and I’ve been told my chances of getting Qrac in there before next year are slim to none.

Have you ever been in a similar situation? What would you do? Should I sit tight, join in with "pestering" the owners, feed bran mash and hope for the best until I can get Qrac into the stable of my choice? I know that no place will be perfect, that there will be issues in every single yard, but, as far as I’m concerned, good quality food fed at regular hours is the foundation of horse care. Maybe things will change if enough people speak up. Maybe…

Beach Ride--Avoiding a Disaster

by Laura Crum

We rode on the beach the other day. It was a lovely day—I started out taking photos. Here I am following my son down the trail to the ocean.

Sunny and I look at the view toward Santa Cruz.

My son and Wally ride off toward Monterey. Wally is going wading with Twister.

Wally and Twister coming out of the ocean.

At a certain point I realized that all my beach ride photos look like the beach ride photos I’ve posted before and I put the camera back in my pocket and just rode. But later I got to thinking about this, and I realized there’s a reason for this sameness. I like to ride on the beach on sunny winter days, mid-day, when the tide is low. So my photos reflect more or less the same scene every time. For the last four or five years, every beach ride has been with my son and our friend Wally. Wally rides his gray horse, Twister, my son rides sorrel Henry and I ride palomino Sunny. So the characters are always the same. I’m the only one who likes to take photos these days, so all you see of Sunny are his ears. Thus my beach photos are pretty repetitive.

On top of this, we ride on the same stretch of beach most of the time. The ride takes a little less than two hours, like most of my rides. And its mostly quite uneventful (my favorite sort of ride). We walk a lot, sometimes we trot or lope along on the hard sand. Sometimes some of us wade in the surf. Sometimes we ride back down the trail through the sand dunes. Its good exercise for the horses and pleasant for us. We’ve only had a few “exciting” moments in many years of riding there (my recent post titled “A Near Wreck,” in which Twister lay down, was one of these times).

Anyway, I was thinking about this, and I realized that the sameness of my photos and the uneventful nature of our rides are linked in a fundamental way, and today I wanted to talk about this. Because I have heard from so many of you who really want to try riding on the beach (kel and Mrs Mom, I’m thinking of you). And it is (or can be) a lovely experience. And yet, so many people have disasters when they try it. So today I’m going to talk about how to ride on the beach sans disaster.

First off, I have been riding on the beach for over twenty years. I’ve ridden several different horses there in that time. Most of my “horse friends” around here also ride on the beach. Between us all, I’ve heard a good many stories, above and beyond my own personal experiences. And then, there’s what I’ve heard from my blogging friends. The first thing I want to talk about was brought up in the comments on my last beach ride post by Aarene of “Haiku Farm” (listed on sidebar). And this experience has happened to many others I know—besides Aarene’s friend whom she mentioned. Listen carefully here, cause this is important. Very steady, reliable horses will sometimes freak out at the sight of the ocean. And if that alone doesn’t do it, being ridden in the surf often will. Aarene’s friend had a steady horse flip over backwards with him. when he rode the horse in the water.

So, tip number one is to try to make your first ride on the beach in the company of experienced “beach horses” ridden by folks who have been there often. Pay close attention to your horse. There is a difference between being excited and “up” and being truly frightened. If your horse is truly frightened, just let him follow a steady horse along. Don’t force him in the water. Or if you do choose to force him in the water, be prepared for a violent reaction.

Wading in the surf, though it looks very fun, is problematic in a lot of ways. Many horses don’t care for the waves. All three of our horses will go in the water if we insist-none of them love it. I never take my horse in very deep because I’ve had the experience of a horse getting dizzy in the surf and almost falling down. This is very common. If you wade in the waves, be aware if your horse starts to get dizzy and staggers. They do fall down—its not a myth.

Some folks are absolutely determined to get their horse in the water. (Wally is one of these.) And some horses really don’t want to do this. My recommendation is not to fight this battle—but if you choose to do it, the easiest way is to back the horse in. OK, don’t say I didn’t warn you that it can be a real wreck. The commonest problem occurs when a person rides a horse in as the wave goes out and the horse is “trapped” by the next incoming wave—he can’t get away from it. Some horses find this WAY too scary and really do panic. So be careful.

Now I know not everyone will be able to find a friend on an experienced beach horse to give them a lead. But whether you can do this or not, there are a few other important things you can do to improve your chances of having a positive experience on your beach ride. First off, choose a nice day, weatherwise. As I say, I like to ride mid-day in the winter on a sunny, peaceful day mid-week. But certainly, just as in a trail ride in any new place, don’t pick a windy day for your first time. That’s just asking for trouble.

Its very important to ride on the beach at low tide, or close to it. We do not plan a beach ride unless the weather is good and the tide is low at mid-day. If you go at high tide there will be no firm sand to ride on, and I can assure you that plowing through the deep sand the whole ride will not be enjoyable for either you or your horse. It is very dangerous to trot or lope for any length of time in deep sand—horses can easily injure themselves. So, go at low tide.

Another factor is how high the surf is. This is different to the tide. The tide can be low but if the swell is up, the high swell produces big breakers. This makes the “energy” down on the beach much more exciting. The breakers boom and crash, and if a horse is going to get over-stimulated, this will do it. We do not mind riding our experienced horses on the beach when the surf is high (at low tide, of course), but the “feeling” is very different from calm days when there is little swell. I highly recommend going for your first beach ride when the swell is down.

OK—you pick a calm, sunny day at low tide and with not much swell. What else can you do to make for a good experience? Pick the right beach.

In my part of the world, horses are not allowed on most of the beaches near town. But even if they were allowed, those beaches would be no fun. First off, you need a good, safe place to park your rig—roomy enough and away from traffic. Second, you want the beach to be reasonably empty. If you look back at the photos I posted, you will see that there is not a soul on the beach. This is the way I like it. Most rides we meet a few other people, and that’s no big deal. But let me tell you what can be a big deal.

One November weekend it was seventy degrees and we were free to go and the tide was right. It happened to be a Sunday afternoon, but we went anyway. Big mistake. The parking lot was packed and we had to park the rig on the road. The entrance to the beach was crowded with people, including many running, yelling children. There were kites in the air, and surfers running toward the waves carrying surfboards over their heads, and flapping tents, and boom boxes blaring and beach balls flying through the air. Our steady horses marched right through this zoo (thank God) and once we got a ways down the beach it was reasonably quiet, but I learned a big lesson. I don’t go to the beach on the weekend any more.

So my suggestion is to be sure you choose a beach where horses are allowed, and go check the place out first, sans horse. Try to go at about the same time/day of the week that you plan to take your horse. Check out the situation. Is there room to park in a safe place? What does the access to the beach look like? Is it horse friendly? Are horses allowed? (In any case, be sure they are not prohibited.) How crowded is it? Try to imagine if your horse will be OK with what you find.

Long, flat beaches are the best to ride on. Steeper beaches don’t produce the hard packed sand that flatter beaches do, even at low tide. And a short beach just leaves you going back and forth.

Now on to the unpredictable. We all know that stuff happens you can’t predict. It happens on trail rides and beach rides; it can happen in an arena, too. But trail rides, including beach rides, make you most vulnerable to the unpredictable. A few years ago we had one of these unpredictable scary events and it really taught me a lesson. We were riding down the beach on a pleasant day at low tide and everything we could predict was in our favor. We were having our usual relaxing time. And then….

Two helicopters came flying down the beach, flying exactly above the shoreline, side by side, very low. We could see them coming, but there wasn’t much we could do to get out of the way. Of the three horses, my son’s horse, Henry, reacted the most. His head came up and his eyes got big. I rode my horse up next to Henry and—this is key—I grabbed the halter he always wears under his bridle. Wally rode up on the other side and stood next to Henry. We really didn’t have time to get my son off safely, or I might have done that. I said whoa to Henry and held him (this might backfire if you are holding a horse by the bridle—this is why the halter is important) and fortunately Sunny and Twister never flinched. The helicopters flew right overhead in a huge storm of noise and wind and Henry took a nervous step backwards, but heeded my tug and “Whoa.” We got through it just fine.

So, always keep the halter on under the bridle when trail riding. It can help you in so many ways. Ever since the helicopter incident I also carry a leadrope wrapped around my saddle horn. If you need to tie a horse up, lead a horse from another horse or from the ground, pull a horse out of the mud…etc. that leadrope will come in very handy. If I had had it the day the helicopters came by, I could have clipped it on Henry’s halter and I would have felt much more confident that I could hold him. Having the halter on under the bridle does no harm (yes, it looks ugly) and it can really help you in a bind.

Let’s see, check out my recent post “A Near Wreck” for the description of how Twister lay down at the beach. Be aware. Horses will sometimes try to lie down in sand or water. If your horse stops for no reason, make him go on. Especially if he paws the ground (though Twister gave no particular warning—he just stopped for a minute and then lay down).

Wearing a helmet is always a good idea—says I, who just got one a month ago (but I’m wearing it). Riding a steady, reliable horse in the double digits that has lots of experience “outside” will go the farthest towards keeping you safe. Even if the horse has never been to the beach, the odds are in your favor that he’ll behave himself. Especially if you follow the tips I’ve listed. We took Henry and Twister for their first ever beach rides, and they did great.

That about covers my beach ride insights. I’m sure there’s something I’ve forgotten. Please fell free to add your own tips in the comments, or ask any questions you may have. Riding on the beach IS really fun, and I hope you all get to do it—sans disasters.

PS--I have been pretty sick the last couple of days and not on the computer much, so have not kept up with email or comments. But hopefully I'm better now, and will catch up.

2012: Year of the Thoroughbred

by Natalie Keller Reinert

I hereby declare 2012 the Year of the Thoroughbred.

(I can do that. I have that power. Declarations and such.)

I write about Thoroughbreds, you know. It started out years ago with a blog about the broodmares and foals at my old Union Square Stables. Then it turned into Retired Racehorse Blog, all about my new project, a five year old retiree named Final Call. A couple more incarnations later, and I'm writing, as fast as my fingers will type, about the incredible advancements that Off-track Thoroughbreds (OTTBs) are making as they re-emerge into the limelight of the show-ring. Even my novel, The Head and Not The Heart, is about the special love a horsewoman bears for her Thoroughbreds.

And so it's a good time to be me. 

There is so much buzz about Thoroughbreds on the Internet, I'm surprised they haven't had a review in Pitchfork yet. And with websites like Off Track Thoroughbreds, Retired Racehorse Training Project, and The Thoroughbred Chronicles (not to mention my own humble site, Retired Racehorse Blog) picking up more and more hits every day from search terms like "Where to find a retired racehorse" and "What can a retired racehorse do" it's clear that the message is coming home to people: Retired racehorses can do... well... just about anything. 

Xlerate wins Horse of the Year at Barastoc,
Photo: Derek O'Leary

Consider Xlerate, who just a few days ago took home an unprecedented honor at the Barastoc Horse of the Year Show in Australia, winning both the Newcomer division and the Open Horse of the Year Division. Xlerate was a stakes horse who won a pretty penny in Hong Kong and Australia; six months ago he was eventing; now he is a champion show hack, showing gorgeous brilliance of movement and temperament. (In fact, seven other finalists for Open Horse of the Year were also Off-track Thoroughbreds.)

Consider the Retired Racehorse Trainer Challenge, presented by the Retired Racehorse Training Project. Headed by Steuart Pittman, the Maryland-based event rider who has stood at stud Thoroughbred stallion Salute the Truth, an OTTB who ran a few races before eventually eventing at the Advanced level, and a long time supporter of OTTBs, the Trainer Challenge took three Thoroughbreds, fresh off the track, and gave three trainers five weeks to put them together into something resembling a sporthorse. The video training diaries alone have attracted tens of thousands of views. 

Tens of thousands of views, of videos on how to train retired racehorses.

Something is happening here.

And it's happening on the backside, too.

The Jockey Club, once an organization formed merely to handle the breeding records of the hundreds of thousands of Thoroughbreds foaled each year, launched first Thoroughbred Connect, a database to connect racehorses with potential new owners, and then the Jockey Club Thoroughbred Incentive Program, which provides awards to OTTBs competing in a rainbow of disciplines. 

Some of the racing industry's heaviest hitters took part in the initial funding of the Thoroughbred Aftercare Alliance, including Fasig-Tipton, the Breeders' Cup, and major racecourses, in an effort to provide accreditation and standards to after-care facilities, as well as provide fund-raising efforts.

The National Thoroughbred Racing Association has launched a website, NTRAaftercare.com, offering resources and best practices for both racehorse trainers seeking to retire their horses responsibly and potential purchasers and adopters. Their Aftercare subcommittee includes members of both the racing and sporthorse communities. 

The gap is being bridged. From the backside to the show-ring, the endless possibilities that arise from a racehorse's athletic and workmanlike background are being recognized. And I, for one, can barely keep up with all the links, e-mails, and phone calls from people who want to tell me more about the OTTBs in their life. 

So yes, I declare it. 2012 is the Year of the Thoroughbred. 

(I bet that means it goes by really fast.)