From Mountain Horse to Pampered Pony

My friend Shelley is someone who takes immaculate care of everything from her house, yard and car, to her personal appearance and the welfare of friends and family.

So it's really no surprise that the first thing she did with Corky, the mustang mountain-outfitter horse she just bought, was to introduce him to the concept of "product."

Beauty product, that is. If you look closely at the top of Corky's rump, you'll see a tube of Cowboy Magic tail conditioner perched up there. Which, I have to admit, totally cracks me up.

Here's a little old gelding who'd surely never had an evening of beauty-pampering before in his entire 28 years. In fact, I'm not sure he'd ever even seen the inside of a barn until last Sunday, when we unloaded him from our trailer and brought him inside.

But, like everything else he's ever been asked to do, he took it as just another matter of course. (I'd been out on the trail several times with Corky in the string, over the course of a decade, and he was always cast in the role of Ol' Reliable.)

Little does he know that there will be more of this pony-pampering to come, from little grandkids' hands on up. Shelley has four grandchildren, including two small girls, so I'm expecting to see some pink in Corky's immediate future.

Pink tail comb, pink brushes, pink halter, pink turnout blanket, pink saddle pad...whadaya think??

You Say Goodbye, I Say Hello

The whole time Ed and I were on the trek to fetch the two outfitter horses down out of the mountains on behalf of the galfriends who bought them, the gals themselves were practically levitating with anticipation. They raced up to the ranch within minutes of our arrival back home.

Just look at the grin on MaryJane's face as she took possession of L.B. That alone was payment enough for the drive up and down those mountain switchbacks.

If MaryJane looks at all familiar, it's because she's the talent behind MaryJane's Farm, the magazine, and MaryJane's Farm, the real-life organic farm that's a few miles from our place.

In my next post, I'll show you a picture of Shelley getting reacquainted with Corky. Those two are in one or two of my river-crossing photos from a few posts back.

Endings: Being There for a Hard Goodbye

This is a continuation of my previous post.

I know it was hard for Harlan, the outfitter, to say goodbye to the first two horses to be sold out of his guest string. By loading them into our trailer, he was taking a step that helped make his retirement and the closing of his business more real. And besides that, the horses had been his near-steady companions and business partners for many years.

I walked behind him as he led Corky, a

 a 28-year-old roan gelding, down the road toward our trailer. Corky had been in Harlan's outfit for 20 years. I can only imagine the memories that flashed by as he took that walk.

I saw him give the second horse, a 17-year-old bay mare he'd raised from an earlier generation of guest horses, a final scratch on the neck as he gave her a few parting words.

To these horses, getting into a trailer, to go winding through mountain roads, was nothing out of the ordinary. It's part of what they know how to do.

But for Harlan, it was the first (and last) time he'd be putting them into a trailer without being the owner who'd take them back out. That's an experience that's never easy.

No Place for a Flatland Horse Hauler

Yesterday, Ed and I took the truck and trailer up into the mountains to pick up the two outfitter horses my friends Shelley and MaryJane decided to buy after they heard they were for sale.

I took these photos from about the halfway point of a long series of switchbacks. You can barely see a section of white-lined highway below that yellowed grass. That little ribbon of white, to the center-right of the photo, is the Clearwater River down below. We started up from the highway that follows the river's course.

There's not much for guardrails along this puppy, and to make things even more interesting, we encountered thick banks of fog both coming and going.

Needless to say, we wouldn't have wanted to wait much longer in the year before undertaking this drive. Cuz going up was one thing, but coming back down, with the weight of two horses, would not have made snow and ice a good thing.

One of those days to be grateful for good tires and good brakes, and a steady Ed-hand at the wheel.

New Home for Two Good Horses (Girlfriend Power!)

Here is something I believe to be true:

Every time a good horse proves himself to someone other than his owner, he leaves behind a calling card that could get him a later good home.

Such is the case for Corky, the roan gelding in the foreground of this photo, and L.B. (Lightning Bug), the bay up ahead of him. They were the horses my friends Shelley and MaryJane rode on our guided pack trip back in September.

Make that: They were the horses they entrusted with their lives.

So when they heard their reliable (and no longer young) horses were suddenly and regrettably for sale, due to unavoidable circumstances, they knew a great opportunity when they saw one.

They wasted little time and bought the horses. They also bought the horses' saddles, each one broke in peculiarly to that horse's back and range of motion--smart thinkin'. (I didn't get to make it a threesome on this one, as the horse I rode was on loan for the season and is now back with his owner.)

Corky and L.B. have now gotten the horse equivalent of the gold watch for meritorious service--they get to retire from working hard for a living, and get to go live out their days as grandkid horses.

Plus, Shelley and MaryJane  actually got to DO what so many other riders of these horses have longed to do over the years--take them home for their very own, after bonding with them on their great wilderness riding adventure.

Pretty much a win-win deal. That calling card paid off.

Equine Gems: It Rains, Then It Pours

I didn't have to be reminded that yesterday was Halloween, because it was one of those days that seemed halfway paranormal all on its own.

Halfway through the morning, I was still marveling over my great piece of luck in finding a dependable, been-there/done-that kid's horse right in my own neighborhood, and for less than a single month's training on a horse these days. When...

The ink wasn't even dry on my check, I'm sure, and the phone rang with the wife of my favorite outfitter at the other line.

She was calling to let me know that due to unforeseen health problems and other circumstances, including their own age, they were suddenly having to disperse their string of a dozen mountain-savvy guest horses. Said they knew that hardly anyone was buying horses right now, and that they'd been down to check things out for themselves at the same livestock market where I found Keller, the blind Appaloosa in past posts. (They'd even SEEN Keller there before she was picked up and taken to Shiloh Horse Rescue by Mikey. They talked with Janet. Small world....) Decided they didn't want any of their remaining horses to go there, and were going to disperse the horses privately, as best they could.

As my brain struggled to take all this in--I was having a lot of "oh, wow!"s to absorb at once--my outfitter friend added that they had set a price of $600 a head on the horses, buyer choice, even though many are now in their 20s (some closer to 30). She wondered what I thought.

I guess I stammered out something, hoping to at least sound supportive. But to be real honest, I'm still trying to fully work my way through all of that I think. Because there's a lot that could be said, from so many angles, not the least of which, my personal mourning for the end of an era.

Yes, I would like to get your thoughts about such things as the true market value of older, trained horses, most with no papers, in a world where horses are available for free. And yes, I do wish I could just go gather up the whole string of these at once, and dole them out one by one to people who haven't yet found their Rosie. (See my previous couple of posts.)