NaReViMo painting plan

I met my friend, Trisha, through a penpal ad in Breyer's Just About Horses magazine. At the time, I was a student at Colorado State University. However, I used my California address because that I did not know when the ad would be published. As it turned out, that was a good call. The ad ran while I was home for the summer between my freshman and sophomore years.

I got a lot of responses, the most exciting of which came from another nineteen year old college student. Her name was Trisha, and she lived on her parents' Arabian horse farm in Wellington, just twelve miles north of the CSU campus.

I answered her immediately. She responded in kind, and by the time I returned to Colorado in the fall, we were already fast friends.

For the next three school years, I spent all my weekends at her house.

Which meant, I spent all my weekends surrounded by grey Arabians.

There were so many of them.

There were a couple chestnuts in the mix - hello Charity! - and later, at least one bay.

For the most part, however, that was an extremely grey herd.

Last month, I bought a herd of Shirmar Arabian models from Trisha's mother's estate sale. When I decided to paint one os the Zaras for this year's National Retro Vintage Month, there was no doubt in my mind as to what color she would be.

This particular Zara was one of the stagecoach horses.

She was a bright red bay with a large star and snip...

and three white feet.

I took numerous pictures of her in her original state. To the best of my ability, I'm planning to keep those markings.

Here's how she looks after one full day of painting.

There's still a long way to go, but progress is progress! This is totally happening!

Kaffi update

Last November, Karen hauled Kaffi to Littleton Equine for a full diagnostic work-up in regards to his frequent colic episodes.

The exam found ulcers, but offered no definitive answers. 

He came home - a bit later than expected - and was put on an intensive anti-ulcer regimen.

For a while - almost six months - it seemed like everything was going to be okay.

Then the colics started up again.

Oh, Kaffi.

It was obvious changes needed to be made. After a lot of discussion with the vet and barn owner, Karen moved him out of his stall and into full-time turnout in the gelding field. She'd actually tried this before, with less than ideal results. Still, desperate times call for desperate measures.

The good news is, this time it seems to be working.

He's buddied up with Linda's good boy, Dango, and has had only one minor episode all summer.

Karen is planning to bring him back into work this fall. Enjoy your vacation, little man. 

Red tree time is coming!

Cinnamon

In November 2024, I spent a week in California visitng my mother, who was - and still is - living in an Alzheimers ward.

It was a hard week, but less so than it might have been, because in the midst of everything, I took a little break to spend time with my friend, Corina, and her new horse, Cinnamon.

Cinnamon was an older Missouri Fox Trotter that Corina had recently rescued from a bad situation. They were still getting to know each other, and things were a bit rocky. I've had a lot of experience with complicated horses, and I really thought I'd breeze in and quickly and easily effect some positive change for both of them.

I was wrong.

Cinnamon gave me every bit as much trouble as she'd been giving Corina. More probably. I respected her for that, but it was humbling.

Also, it was also worrisome. This was obviously a tough horse, and Corina has a complicated life. I wasn't sure the two of them were ever going to form the kind of partnership I knew Corina wanted.

Unsurprisingly, things got worse before they got better. Not too long after my visit, Corina's barn owner advised her to cut her losses and move on. Corina did not take that advice. Instead, she moved Cinnamon to a different property, one that better suited her horse's needs.

Cinnamon made friends with a big, one-eyed, bay mare named Bonnie.

After that, she decided to make friends with Corina, too.

From that point forward, every picture Corina posted showed an entirely different horse than the resistant, shutdown mare I'd met in 2024.

She looked younger, healthier, softer, happier.

It was a beautiful transformation.

I was so happy for both of them and looked forward to meeting this new and vastly improved version of Cinnamon.

Alas, that will never happen. 

Corina's beautiful, red mare succumbed to the infirmities of old age yesterday morning. I am heartbroken for both of them, but also so glad they had that time together. Corina wrote: We gave her a soft landing.  She gave me healing. We came full circle. What a beautiful eulogy.

Rest easy, Cinnamon. It was truly a privilege. 

Equestrian bingo

Hardly a week goes by without some kind of equestrian quiz crossing my Facebook feed. Most of them are pretty silly, but I always take a moment to see how I rate. Today, I am going a step further and posting the whole thing here. Sorry/not sorry.

B1: Ridden while pregnant. Early in my second pregnancy, I drove up to Wellington to spend a day with my friend, Trisha. As I was leaving, Seth asked me if I was going to ride. I shrugged and said, "Probably, but just walk-trot. I'll be careful."

What I actually did was walk-trot-canter and jump little cross country jumps. 

In my defense, I was riding Trisha's good boy, Phoenix. Neither James or I was ever in danger.

Phoenix with Trisha and Russ, late 1980's

I1: Been thrown from a horse. I actually hate the phrase "thrown from a horse". I have slid off, fallen off, been bucked off and gone down with the ship, but I've never felt like the horse picked me up and threw me. Well, except for this one time.

Cherokee before and after

N1: Ridden in the moonlight. Night rides are magical.

Olive and I

G1: Swam with horses. When I was a freshman in high school, my friend, Laura, and I were given riding rights to a group of unleased camp horses who were boarded at a small stable in Duarte, California. Our trails criss-crossed the San Gabriel River, which occasionally was deep enough for swimming. Whenever that happened, we made the most of it!

deep but not deep enough

O1: Ridden bareback. Forever my favorite way to ride.

B2: Ridden in multiple countries. Check! Check! Check! Check! Check!

I2: Competed in multiple disciplines. Although I've ridden multiple disciplines, formal competition hasn't been a big part of my riding life. The best I can do for this one is to share a photo of Cinnamon and I at a 1983 schooling show. We rode in a number of hunter classes in the morning, then swapped out the snaffle for a Western curb and showed gymkhana in the afternoon.

N2: Cancelled plans to ride instead. Enough said.

G2: Ridden on the Beach. Four beaches, four countries.

O2: Shown a horse that wasn't yours. Until five years ago, none of the horses were mine.

Cinnamon again at that same schooling show

B3: Peed in the trailer or stall. Except for Eleanor, we've all done that.

some of us have done worse

I3: Shared your food with your horse. Some of my fondest memories of Olive are the two of us sharing watermelon after work.

G3: Had a horse take off on you while riding it. This has happened a lot in my youth. The first time was on Chalk Dust.

O3: Been sent to the hospital because of a horse. There have been three horse related hospital visits. This was the worst one.

B4: Ridden anything taller than seventeen hands. If I remember correctly, this guy was 17.1.

I4: Full-out galloped. Many times. This was the most recent.

N4: Ridden bridleless: Again, many times!

Ridden English and Western. I've never been particular.

O4: Slept in the barn. I've spent the night at a barn, but no sleeping was involved.

B5: Picked up poop with your hands. This can happen for a lot of reasons, one being when an otherwise perfect pony consistently used her feeder - which was permanently attached to the wall - as a toilet. Not naming names.

Sprite

I5: Vaulted or trick riding. Officially, I have not done either, but I did try vaulting on a barrel at Zorthian Ranch. Also, my teen years were filled with various attempts at trick riding. Standing up, sitting backwards, crazy fancy mounts and dismounts, Roman riding... We did it all, and we did it badly!

G5: Watched a horse give birth. Although I've yet to see the whole thing from beginning to end, I've spent a lot of time in foaling stalls.

O5: Ridden sidesaddle. Not only have I ridden sidesaddle, I've ridden English, Western and Spanish sidesaddle!

I am giving myself credit for every item on this list except one.

It doesn't seem possible, but I have racked my racked my brain and I can not come up with a single memory of sheath cleaning. Perhaps I have blocked it out, but for now, this one remains on the to-do - or not to-do - list!