Of all the horses I’ve loved

Lying awake thinking of how we’ve gone from owning 1-2 horses to owning 100 horses. And back down to just a dozen again. Remembering when we treasured our 1/2 Arabs and they flourished in the halcyon days of Rancho Palmira. I’m thinking of the themes we had for our annual crop of foals. Mexican names which we used as namesakes for our children— Matteo. He was born when little Matt was visiting us. Matt had a broken foot and was on crutches. Matteo was born just before we had to leave to take him to the airport for the plane ride home. Estephania, Nicolasa. The latter was born in the pasture in the middle of the day, surprise! The crazy Moms like Allie and the one who bit my face when I got too close (Rhapsody). Juan & Salvadore, the beastie boys. Our National Champion, Ignacia. That seems like a lifetime ago, and that it happened to other people.
I’m missing all of our sweet recipient mares. Gidget, whose branded ID number added up to 17. Mares who wouldn’t take a carrot or be petted until I “worked them over”. Often sitting in their stalls for hours to de-sensitize them to human presence.
The 3 Caballeros in the outdoor corral. Two fillies and a colt (Mariana, Petrucchio + ?). How they’d bite me and each other as I tried to brush them. Great gals like Cupcake and Wendy. Buttercup, who had to have a C-section that we thankfully could afford, rather than euthanizing her. The excitement of those first Star Ghazal babies. Funny names like Thelma and Louise. Uncle Bill and Aunt Louise were still alive when we had them. Pumpkin who stayed with us for 2 years instead of 1. Dear Nadeen and Sienna who are with us now. Scarlett, Charlotte. Elsie who would’ve died if Glenn hadn’t yanked Norman out.
And the ones that got away. Dear Gandolf, the biter. He would stamp his feet and bellow for carrots. His harrowing aborted trailer ride and having to cry twice at his going. My precious Artimissia. The leftover girl who blossomed into beauty and sweetness. My own Jerome. Who stood with the girls and was always waiting for me.
Sweet ones in stalls— Piccard, little Judy born on my birthday. Babies crying for their Mommies when being weaned. That was too hard to take.
My stallions— Faramond, my prince. He is winning ribbons with someone else. Nareyev who lived to the age of 22. San Diego Bey who was nuts and put on estrogen. Fuego who pranced in our front yard and strutted shaggy or sleek like a stud. Little Inacio boy who was left with the babies in the portable stalls but loved carrots and attention, in small bites.
Dee Dee and her Mom Simba, the crazy girls. So tall and speckled. They could smell the carrots a mile away.
Praying for little Katherine whose leg got stuck under the stall door. She went on to be Champion of Jordan. Baptista who was born on a rainy night with the 8 ladies at the Ranch for a retreat in 2006. Fire Within (Lazy Boy) who came when Erica was with us. George, the biter.
Unforgettable, our incredible lap swimmer. The colt who died being gelded. So sad. The horses who came to us abused and we nursed them and loved them.
The list is endless.
Who we have left—- Red, with her sore legs. My Allure who gives the best hugs, our Star Ghazal who loves his ladies and his carrots. Phalanx, the great. The boys: Artemis and Antarees. Glory Be, yes she is, Primavera, the gray who I hardly know and the youngsters. All precious and unique.
I’ve loved them all!

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