Of Small Worlds and Grand Adventures

After the Galentine's play day, Hannah reached out to make riding plans for the following weekend. We agreed to head down to the Assunpink. I warned Hannah that Julio wasn't feeling well and that I might have to cancel on short notice. When Julio died, I told Hannah I planned to keep our plans. After riding with Sandy on Saturday, I decided a long ride on Booger would probably be good for my soul. 

Hannah and I agreed to meet at the Assunpink. We aimed to do about ten miles. We wound up doing almost 18. 

Hannah and Merlin.

Of Horses and Kayaks (and the Tiny, Tiny World)

Oh my.

Yesterday morning, I headed down to South Jersey for my usual trail ride with Jake. This is one of the highlights of my life currently. Nothing better than moseying about in nature with a trusty drafty steed with just my thoughts for company. 

Skye's Happy Ending

How about a horse-related post on my formerly equestrian blog? It's time to date my readers a bit. Who remembers Skye?

Introducing Hawk

A few weeks ago, I was giving a lesson with Sarah and her mare, Abigail. (Boy do I need to bring my camera for this pair! They are so cool and I haven't posted much about them!) In the background, a young girl was riding her lease horse, an older bay named Hawk. Hawk wasn't much to look at. He's a 24 year old Appendix and he has the horse version of dad bod. The girl who leases him is brave and sweet, but only knows the very basics and is very much a passenger. Hawk is honest and safe. His canter is a bit rushed and discombobulated, but he never puts a foot out of line. He'll jump anything you point him at, but he just sort of leaps willy nilly to clear the obstacle, without knowing anything of distances or form. Basically, your average horse with your average kid at your average barn. Absolutely nothing wrong with that. Generally, I didn't give him another thought...

...until that day. On that day, Hawk's owner, a blonde school teacher who coaches hockey, runs marathons, and does Early Intervention approached me to ask how much I charge for lessons. Apparently she'd been watching my lesson, but had also heard good things about me from a few of my students at the barn. I took an instant liking to her. Who wouldn't? She's basically a golden retriever in a woman's body.

We chatted briefly while I handed Jess my card. She wants to get back into seriously riding her horse, who has been sort of sitting on the back burner while his owner pursued her career. Her goals include doing some jumper shows and maybe some cross country schooling. Jess is very aware of Hawk's age and the fact that it may potentially limit him at some point, but as of right now, the horse is sound with a good work ethic and there's no reason not to keep riding him and teaching him. I was a bit skeptical of his ability to do well at shows, given what I was seeing with the leaser in the background, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to do an evaluation!

The more we talked, the smaller the world got. As it turns out, I sort of know Hawk and, as always, it's sort of a long story.

Murdoch

In the fall of 2008, I left my job at the breeding farm and had no real plan for what to do next. Cara, who I'd known online for quite a while, reached out and let me know that the barn she worked at was hiring. I ended up working therel for about three months before I landed the position at the horse rescue. In that time, Cara and I became excellent friends as we tried to get the farm owners to improve their level of horse care. The farm wasn't terrible, but it was over crowded and all the horses were on the lean side. The facility was run down from trying to support way too many horses and the bosses were either unwilling or unable to do anything about it. Cara left the farm shortly after I did, and I did my best to put it out of my mind. On the rare occasion, I'd drive by the property and see that there were still horses there.

At the time, there were three yearling colts at the farm. Their names were Murdoch, Boeing, and Face. I did have pictures of them, but it would appear that whatever photo hosting site I was using at the time has eaten them. I'm much too lazy to dig through external hard drives in search of those photos now.

Anyway!

The colts eventually got sent off to training. Because it is a small, small world, it turns out they went to the farm I'm currently working at, and Christine ended up riding Murdoch later in his racing career. As  it turns out, Christine is still riding Murdoch for my old bosses. He is ten years old now and apparently quite the little jumper! He recently went to his first show and super honestly went over everything in the ring, despite the fact that he'd never even seen fill before!

Murdoch is for sale and when Christine asked me if I would come take some pictures of her riding him, I jumped at the chance. Besides, Christine is always coming out and riding my sale horses to make them more marketable, so it's the least I could do!

On Thursday after work, I met Christine over at the old farm. I was pleased to see that the number of horses has been significantly reduced (although, there are still so many familiar faces on the property!) The pastures are in much better condition and actually have good grass. The horses are in good weight and the barns appear to be cleaner than they were when I worked there. It made me feel better just to be there.

Thankfully, my old bosses didn't seem to recognize me so there was no awkwardness, and I pretended I was meeting them for the first time.

As for Murdoch... He is doing so well! He grew up to be a handsome boy, and he seems to be as honest as the day is long. He has a nice jump and three good gaits. He is forgiving and willing and very quiet. He would make a nice hunter or lesson horse, and I would love to see him end up in a home that used him to his full potential. Christine rode him beautifully, of course, and I had the pleasure of snapping lots of nice photos.

Notorious Bluestone

It is a small, small world out there. For those of you who haven't been around for ten years, I used to work at a standardbred breeding farm. In 2007, my favorite foal was a colt named Notorious Bluestone. 

Last night, I was scrolling through my Facebook when his name jumped out at me in my feed. It turns out he has found a loving home as a pleasure driving horse in Connecticut. The woman who placed him is a friend of mine who I met through SRF (she always brought me delicious brownies when she visited). Of course, I spammed her with his baby photos and asked how she came to have him. Then I did the math and realized he must be nine years old already, which makes me feel old. I'm so glad he landed softly, and from her emails, it sounds like he's as much of a lap dog as he always was. Also, check out how hunky he is.

Ace Update!

I don't know how many of you remember Ace, the little black gelding that lived with me for a little while in 2013. He was reportedly a quarter horse bought though I always suspected he might be a Morgan.  He started his riding career with a cowboy who was extremely rough on him and set him off on the wrong foot. From there, he went to a strange woman who rarely did much with him. Eventually, a girl named Casey fell in love with him and bought him off of Craigslist because he was pretty. It turned out that Ace had severe trust and fear issues. He refused to be caught. If you did manage to get a halter on him, he was liable to freak out and rip your arms out. As for riding, he had a wicked bucking problem.

Ace moved in with me in July and spent several weeks being completely restarted from scratch. We discovered that the mere sound of stirrups jangling was enough to send him into a fit. Somewhat amazingly, Ace actually made a ton of progress in three weeks. I even managed to ride him quietly in the outdoor without him so much as batting an eye at anything.

And then shit hit the proverbial fan. What started off as some funky goose steps before I even met Ace quickly escalated into full blown wobbling in the pasture. The usual neuro panel that I am so regrettably familiar with by now revealed absolutely nothing. The idea of spending a ton of money on diagnostics for a horse that Casey couldn't ride and was honestly terrified of was unappealing. In the end, Ace went home and I never heard another thing from Casey.

Some time later, I heard from Ace's old farrier, who happened to be at Booger's barn on the same day I was, that Casey had sold Ace. Apparently, he was off doing CTR. I found the tale a little suspicious. A neurological horse performing at distance rides? I didn't really buy it. Besides, if Ace had been at any rides in the area, I would have seen him, right?

Last spring, I took JR to Bunny Hop for a fun ride. While Mike and I were in the vetting area, I spotted a little black horse with a white snip. I commented that he looked like Ace, then thought nothing of it. At the awards dinner, they announced an Ace, but I wasn't sure it was the same horse.

It is now nearly a year later, and I had all but forgotten about Ace. I was still casually keeping an eye out for the little guy, but figured I would never know what became of him. Quite frankly, I feared he had been auctioned off and slaughtered.

Last night, I got a friend request from a fellow distance rider. We have about a dozen mutual friends, and I recognized her face from a few rides, so I accepted. I clicked on her photos to see who she was.

This was the first photo I saw:

The caption was, "Ace loves his new kicks! Thanks, *insert farrier name here*!"

I was crying before I even typed out a comment. I asked, "Is this Ace who belonged to a girl named Casey in Pennsylvania?"
His owner replied, "That was creepy, but yes it is..."
"I USED TO TRAIN HIM!!!"

I spent the next several hours chatting with my new friend, who had added me because FB suggested it, and she recognized my face from some rides. The horse at Bunny Hop last year was indeed Ace, and I'm kicking myself for not going up to him at that time to find out. Then I could have really been creepy.

I have asked his owner's permission to share these photos. She was thrilled to get filled in on his past, and she said it makes a lot of sense.

Apparently, after Ace left training with me, Casey tried to ride him a handful of times, but she got dumped again and just let him sit for nearly a year (conveniently the amount of time it takes damaged nerves to regenerate). When his new owner picked him up, she was given the full history on him, and knew she was taking on quite a project.

Luckily for Ace, his new owner does a lot of natural horsemanship. She told me that the desensitizing really stuck and it's one thing he excels at. He still has some trust issues, and he did buck at the start of Bunny Hop, but after a winter in full training, and a few more months to get to know his new home, he is really heading in the right direction.

"He is my heart and my best friend," his owner told me. "In fact, I rode him down the aisle at my wedding."

You guys, this is the stuff that makes my life so worth it.

I am hoping to see Ace out on trail some day.

Here are photos of what he's been up to in the last two and a half years:

The day his new owner went to meet him.

His new BFF.

Look at all the room he has!

Desensitizing in a rope halter should be pretty familiar.

Sunset Duke

Long story short, there was a horse I fell in love with when I worked at SRF. He had been abused through SRF's program as a yearling and landed in my barn after being passed from trainer to trainer and being deemed 'dangerous'. My first ride on him consisted of him trying his best to kill me. My second ride, which was caught on film, featured a lot of spinning, threatening, and half rearing on his part as he tried to express to me just how scary riding was for him.

I spent months working with Duke to get him safe. I got him walking and trotting quietly. Then I got him cantering and started over cross rails. I even took him trail riding.

Me with Duke back in the day.

Eventually, Duke got adopted by a lovely British woman. I was very upfront about his history, even showing her the early videos so she knew what she was getting into. She took Duke home and loved him. I cried the day he left... one of only two times that I cried when horses got adopted. She did dressage with him and they were very happy. Shortly after I quit working at SRF, Duke reappeared on their available horse list and I cried all over again. His adopter's job got transferred over seas and she couldn't take her with him, per adoption contract. I briefly contemplated adopting him, but it wasn't feasible and there was no way I was going to tie myself to SRF in any way.

From there, Duke did a brief stint with a woman I know, and who I was pretty sure was all wrong for him. I tried to stay optimistic, but my heart sank. When he was returned again, I stopped looking for updates. It was depressing and out of my hands, and I didn't want to know.

Jess, Spyder's adopter, randomly messaged me the other night to tell me about this SRF standardbred she found on instagram. His name was Duke and he had the nicest canter and jump. My heart must have skipped about eight beats and I asked, "Do you know if it's Sunset Duke?" Jess didn't know, but she linked me to a photo. I would know that face anywhere. It was Sunset Duke.

After a bit of stalking networking on Jess's part, Duke's adopter friended me on Facebook. I am awaiting the full story of how he came to her, and I'm excited to fill in the gaps in his history for her. Amy, the adopter, already mentioned that SRF 'needs to get their shit together', and I told her I have nothing nice to say about them. She assures me, "Don't worry. This is his forever home."

I definitely got a little misty going through all the photos. He ended up in a good place where he is loved and it couldn't make me happier.

They look so happy!

Small World

I don't know if I mentioned here that Mike is going to be an uncle at the end of next month, but we went to his sister's baby shower last weekend. Her house backs up to a standardbred farm and they have a nice view of the track. Misse invited the farm owner over for the baby shower, then introduced me.

"This is Dom. She's into horses."
I could see the farm owner wondering if I was just going to be one of those 'omg shiny pony' girls so I shook his hand and said, "Standardbreds, right?"
He looked relieved that I seemed to know about standardbreds and asked, "Do you know anything about harness racing?"
Do I know anything about harness racing?!? Ha! "I worked in the standardbred industry for years, actually," I told him. "I just got out in September and I'm doing free lance training for horses in general now, but standardbreds will always have a special place in my heart." I started to tell him about my history in harness racing, starting with the most recent and back tracking through my time at the breeding farm.
"Where did you work?" he asked when I mentioned that I worked for a trainer in north Jersey in high school.
"At the now-defunct Marveland farms," I answered. When I mentioned my old boss's name, the farm owner's face lit up.

It turns out my old boss (the one I got Ozzy from) was this guy's first trainer when he got into harness racing! Small world, but it gets smaller. The girl that C and I replaced when we started working there was the farm owner's daughter, who I actually met a handful of times at Freehold. He pulled his last horse out of Mike's barn in 2001. C and I started working there in 2000. I did some internet research and found out that he was Syd's owner! I loved that horse. He was a total goofball. It's good to know that he belonged to good people.

Then we got on the topic of Mike's accident (he got tangled in a lead rope and dragged across his property a couple years ago. He broke several bones, including his pelvis. When he got out of the hospital, he sold everything and moved to Florida to retire.) The farm owner mentioned that he went to Mike's to help him pack, move, and disperse the horses. He started asking me if I remembered certain horses... Rosie and Spiatross in particular. Then we started talking about the race string and the farm owner mentioned that he had owned one of Mike's horses.

Lady Jag

"It's not Laag Shot, is it?" I asked. "Because I'd buy that horse off of you in a heartbeat."
"No... it was a mare."
"Lady Jag?"
"That's the one!!!"

I can't even tell you the feeling of relief I got just then. Mike occasionally raced his horses in the claimers, but only if he thought there was little or no chance of them actually getting claimed. Unfortunately, Jag DID get claimed shortly after I stopped working there. My mind was blown by the turn of events. Who claims a 10 year old pacing mare who is past her prime??? I always worried about what became of her and I was thrilled to hear she wound up in a good place. In the end, the farm owner gave her to a friend of his in Maine, where she became a riding horse. Nothing makes me smile like a good old fashioned happy ending :)

The only bad thing about the whole thing was that it doesn't do much to prove to Mike that I don't know every horse owner in New Jersey. :-P

Flashback!

Opened my email this morning to find a message in Polish from an email I didn't recognize. The message (translated) said:
"I hope I have the correct email and that you still speak/write Polish, although it has been many years.
Well wishes for Tom and Irena" (my parents)

Attached were the following photos:


My parents' old house back when we lived there.

Me with who I can only assume is the emailer.


My dad on the right, farthest away from the camera.


My mom, me, and emailer guy.


The house after its recent remodel. Mike and I got a kick out of the CR-V out front.

 I wrote a rough reply and forwarded the email to my mom before calling my parents. Apparently this was an old buddy of my dad's from the mountain rescue. Small world! 

Professor Venturo

Bryce and I met our freshman year of college in our Freshmen Seminar Program, Romantic Visions, taught by Professor Venturo. Dorm floors that year were organized by FSP so I already knew all but two people in the class. The two commuters were Bryce and another kid who dropped out a few weeks into the semester.

At the time Bryce had a stress-induced facial tick. The seats were arranged in a circle and early into the lecture, I caught this tall, dark-haired kid 'making faces' at me. I did the natural thing and started making faces back. When he caught the cute girl across the way making faces, he made faces back.

Just as I was pulling my nose back over my head like a piggy, the professor turned around. I pulled a slick move and pretended I was fixing my hair. Venturo lifted his eyebrows, but didn't break his sentence.

I don't think anyone heard a word of the first class. They were too busy playing ping pong with their eyes, watching our antics. At the end of the day, everyone asked me how long Bryce and I had known each other.

"We haven't actually been formally introduced," I beamed.

Bryce introduced himself and crumpled a piece of paper into the palm of my hand. I wadded it up and pocketed it, assuming it was his phone number. I had a boyfriend at the time.

It wasn't until I got back to my dorm that I unfolded the note. On it was a stick figure with his face contorted into some awful expression. At the bottom, the words "I win" were scrawled in boy hand writing.

We had a laugh riot of a semester and that class was one of my favorite TCNJ memories. I aced it. Bryce was determined to make me his girl. I was determined not to take Wordsworth seriously. We spent a lot of time distracting our classmates and snickering at the dirty meanings behind the poetry and prose.

Tonight, almost exactly seven years later, Bryce and I went to dinner in Princeton at an Indian place we love. It was just us and one other group of people. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head when I looked over at the other table. There, sitting surrounded by family and friends, was Professor Venturo himself. He hasn't changed a bit.

We waited until we were done with dinner and dessert, and our check was paid. Then we went over and said hello.

"Professor Venturo? We met in your class seven years ago."
"Yes," he smiled. "Bryce, right? I remember you two well. You were constantly making faces at each other, but I was nice and..."
"...didn't kick us out of class. Yes!"

So that answers the age old question:
Did Professor Venturo notice our shenanigans?

Small world.