I got my first horse when I was 16 years old and have been fortunate to share my life with some really wonderful equine friends over the years.
Time Lord
There is nothing like getting your first horse. Mine was a grade appaloosa, about 15.0, bay with white hairs running through his coat and one blue eye. His name when I got him was Highlight, which I spelled Highlite, and he had a variety of show names throughout the 7 years I had him – Sir Highlite, Common Practice, and finally when I hit the height of my Doctor Who days, Time Lord. I started riding him in January of 1976, in my weekly lesson at Green Valley Farm, located in what is now Chesterbrook. He knew all the school horse tricks, but I still enjoyed riding him, and because he’d jump anything you put in front of him, he was a good choice for a rider like me who was timid about jumping. In April, my parents decided to buy me a horse and my brother a car. I ended up with Highlite. I went from having no chance at ever having a horse of my own till I was able to pay for it all myself to actually having one in a mere seven days and I floated for days. Coincidentally, my birthday is in April so he became my birthday present.
He could be obnoxious at times, if the arena gate was open, he’d duck out and run back to the barn. If he didn’t want to go where you were leading him, he’d pull away and run back to the barn. I only knew one person in all the time I had him who could stop him from doing that. He was also herd-bound and not safe to trail ride alone. I didn’t like to go out alone anyway (and it’s really not safe), so that wasn’t a problem. He did eventually get to where I could hack him around places he was familiar with, such as around the farm property. When I first started riding him, I wasn’t all that experienced, and it took me at least half-way around the ring to get him to canter. But we worked at it and we got to a point where I could canter him from a standstill without anyone really seeing me move.
But in spite of his flaws, or maybe because of them, he was a great first horse. The only thing that ever scared him was seeing a horse in harness. He’d do almost anything. He went western, sidesaddle, a friend tried vaulting on him (at first when she’d run up to him to get on, he’d stop), he went to the beach, did dressage and a Horse Trials at Flora Lea. But jumping was his first love and the reason I ultimately sold him. I got into dressage which he tolerated but only if he still go to do some jumping. It wasn’t fair to him, to try to push a square peg into a round hole. He had the most comfortable canter of any horse I’ve ever had and would jump anything. For someone who is normally timid about jumping, knowing he would go over anything I pointed him at gave me confidence. Literally all I had to do was steer and hang on. In all those years I jumped him, he only stopped on me twice and both times if I had pushed a little he probably would have gone on.
He was also an easy-keeper with great feet. He was seldom lame, only a few times in 7 years, for just a day or two with one exception. One summer morning when they were on night-turnout, he came in from the field with one leg the same thickness from top to bottom. Investigation revealed a nasty cut on the back of his knee – it looked like he had stuck his foot through a wire fence, possibly pawing at a horse on
the other side. He was out for about six weeks from that and I learned how to tie a pretty mean butterfly bandage and to give IM shots.
His herd-bound tendencies were actually amusing at Flora Lea. He was OK cross-country. A bit sluggish, it felt like he was cantering through molasses, but we made it around the course. But in the stadium jumping, he was torn between wanting to run back to the in gate, and
his love of jumping. We’d head for a jump, he’d see it and say “Oh, a jump!” and happily hop over it. On the other side, he’d want to go back to the in gate and we’d battle (subtley) over that. Then a few strides from the next jump, he’d notice and and go “Oh a jump!” and happily hop
over. Then on the other side, he’d go back to wanting to return to the ingate. We did the entire course this way. Luckily by the time we did the HT, we had a pretty decent partnership and his attempts to return to the gate weren’t too serious and not obvious to anyone watching.
I had one of my most spectacular falls on Highlite. We were practicing for a show the following weekend, only jumping about 2’9”, but that was a lot for me. We headed towards a jump and there was some confusion about the take-off spot…by the time Highlite decided to jump, it was too late and he crashed through the jump, falling to his knees. I went off over his right side, and apparently he rolled over onto his back at some point because there were gravel marks on the pommel of my saddle. Fortunately I went one way and he went the other. We both got up and looked at each other, somewhat stunned. The only thing left standing of the jump was the brush-box ground line – he took down both standards and all the poles. I reset the jump, only a little lower, and set a few others lower, and we jumped them. He was fine, no hesitation at all. But that was the beginning of the end of my jumping career. Yes, I was jumping higher/bigger jumps, but was no better at it and felt no confidence about it. If I couldn’t feel confident jumping a horse like Highlite, I’d never feel confident jumping any horse.
He could be obnoxious at times, if the arena gate was open, he’d duck out and run back to the barn. If he didn’t want to go where you were leading him, he’d pull away and run back to the barn. I only knew one person in all the time I had him who could stop him from doing that. He was also herd-bound and not safe to trail ride alone. I didn’t like to go out alone anyway (and it’s really not safe), so that wasn’t a problem. He did eventually get to where I could hack him around places he was familiar with, such as around the farm property. When I first started riding him, I wasn’t all that experienced, and it took me at least half-way around the ring to get him to canter. But we worked at it and we got to a point where I could canter him from a standstill without anyone really seeing me move.
But in spite of his flaws, or maybe because of them, he was a great first horse. The only thing that ever scared him was seeing a horse in harness. He’d do almost anything. He went western, sidesaddle, a friend tried vaulting on him (at first when she’d run up to him to get on, he’d stop), he went to the beach, did dressage and a Horse Trials at Flora Lea. But jumping was his first love and the reason I ultimately sold him. I got into dressage which he tolerated but only if he still go to do some jumping. It wasn’t fair to him, to try to push a square peg into a round hole. He had the most comfortable canter of any horse I’ve ever had and would jump anything. For someone who is normally timid about jumping, knowing he would go over anything I pointed him at gave me confidence. Literally all I had to do was steer and hang on. In all those years I jumped him, he only stopped on me twice and both times if I had pushed a little he probably would have gone on.
He was also an easy-keeper with great feet. He was seldom lame, only a few times in 7 years, for just a day or two with one exception. One summer morning when they were on night-turnout, he came in from the field with one leg the same thickness from top to bottom. Investigation revealed a nasty cut on the back of his knee – it looked like he had stuck his foot through a wire fence, possibly pawing at a horse on
the other side. He was out for about six weeks from that and I learned how to tie a pretty mean butterfly bandage and to give IM shots.
His herd-bound tendencies were actually amusing at Flora Lea. He was OK cross-country. A bit sluggish, it felt like he was cantering through molasses, but we made it around the course. But in the stadium jumping, he was torn between wanting to run back to the in gate, and
his love of jumping. We’d head for a jump, he’d see it and say “Oh, a jump!” and happily hop over it. On the other side, he’d want to go back to the in gate and we’d battle (subtley) over that. Then a few strides from the next jump, he’d notice and and go “Oh a jump!” and happily hop
over. Then on the other side, he’d go back to wanting to return to the ingate. We did the entire course this way. Luckily by the time we did the HT, we had a pretty decent partnership and his attempts to return to the gate weren’t too serious and not obvious to anyone watching.
I had one of my most spectacular falls on Highlite. We were practicing for a show the following weekend, only jumping about 2’9”, but that was a lot for me. We headed towards a jump and there was some confusion about the take-off spot…by the time Highlite decided to jump, it was too late and he crashed through the jump, falling to his knees. I went off over his right side, and apparently he rolled over onto his back at some point because there were gravel marks on the pommel of my saddle. Fortunately I went one way and he went the other. We both got up and looked at each other, somewhat stunned. The only thing left standing of the jump was the brush-box ground line – he took down both standards and all the poles. I reset the jump, only a little lower, and set a few others lower, and we jumped them. He was fine, no hesitation at all. But that was the beginning of the end of my jumping career. Yes, I was jumping higher/bigger jumps, but was no better at it and felt no confidence about it. If I couldn’t feel confident jumping a horse like Highlite, I’d never feel confident jumping any horse.
Poker Prince
During the time I had Highlite, I purchased another horse, Poker Prince, to hopefully do dressage with. Long story short with him, I ended up selling him because I found I preferred Highlite. Chipper was a 4-year-old 15.3 off-the-track Thoroughbred, by Poker out of Crown Dancer, who I knew from a barn I was working at. He was a great horse for the right person, but I was not that person.
Here is a picture of him from a horse show at Ludwig's Corner.
Here is a picture of him from a horse show at Ludwig's Corner.
Jiminy Cricket
After Highlite, I found Jiminy Cricket. JC was a 15.1 grade QH, dark bay (almost black in winter). JC was in many ways the opposite of Highlite. He was perfectly content by himself. He was a gentleman and very easy to be around. I entered him in the DVCTA First Level class at Dressage at Devon one year, and when we arrived there, this little long-backed, short-legged QH-type horse got off the trailer, looked around at Devon and all the fancy Warmbloods, and then seemed to say “I belong here”. JC had a very high opinion of himself.
Due to some bad experiences he and his former owner had, JC did not like to jump, and the couple of times I did it with him, he looked appalled (“You want ME to jump THAT?”) , as if to say it was beneath him to actually leap over an obstacle.
He was one of the best trail horses I ever had, fearless and he’d go in front or behind or by himself. He got impatient when behind other horses, not through any competitiveness about being first, but because they got in his way.
Unfortunately JC was opposite of Highlite in a not so good way. While Highlite had excellent feet and was barefoot most of the time I had
him, JC did not, and was ultimately diagnosed with navicular problems. We were able to control it with corrective shoes and a little bute now and then. I was lucky to have a wonderful farrier who took it as a personal challenge to keep JC sound.
I found him a new home when I decided to move across the country to Seattle. It didn’t seem like the thing to do, to ship an 18 year old horse with soundness problems 3000 miles, especially when I was going there without having a job waiting for me. I found him a great home as a “husband horse”.
Due to some bad experiences he and his former owner had, JC did not like to jump, and the couple of times I did it with him, he looked appalled (“You want ME to jump THAT?”) , as if to say it was beneath him to actually leap over an obstacle.
He was one of the best trail horses I ever had, fearless and he’d go in front or behind or by himself. He got impatient when behind other horses, not through any competitiveness about being first, but because they got in his way.
Unfortunately JC was opposite of Highlite in a not so good way. While Highlite had excellent feet and was barefoot most of the time I had
him, JC did not, and was ultimately diagnosed with navicular problems. We were able to control it with corrective shoes and a little bute now and then. I was lucky to have a wonderful farrier who took it as a personal challenge to keep JC sound.
I found him a new home when I decided to move across the country to Seattle. It didn’t seem like the thing to do, to ship an 18 year old horse with soundness problems 3000 miles, especially when I was going there without having a job waiting for me. I found him a great home as a “husband horse”.
Look Sharp!
While in Seattle, I purchased a weanling Dutch WB/TB filly. I got her cheap because she was “too small”. In hindsight, buying her was not the best idea I ever had, but at the same time, she taught me a LOT. I named her Elsie, after the Borden cow, because she was the color of a little Hereford – chestnut with a white face. But she bore no resemblance to a cow – Elsie was gorgeous. Flashy, nice mover, good conformation. Her original show name was Dutch Pastry, a take-off on Danish Pastry, because I was going to try to register her with the Dutch WB registry and she was born in a “D” year. But ultimately, at 15.1 she wasn’t big enough to be considered and I changed her show name to Look Sharp!. When she was two years old, I decided to move back to Pennsylvania, and had her shipped back.
Before she was broke to ride, I did a lot of ground work with her. Most of the time I had no help, so had to figure out how to train her by myself. This turned out to be an advantage actually. I never had to rely on having someone available to help me. We struggled with the longing for a few weeks, then all of a sudden, it clicked with her and she did it.
We also took many long walks around the neighborhood roads while still in Washington, in the woods of the nearby Bridle Trails Park, and over to the indoor ring at the barn Dina Happy was based out of at the time. We’d hang out in the ring and watch the lessons. By the time she was ready to break, she’d already seen and done a lot.
A few years went by, Elsie was broke to ride, and I started riding her myself. She was very "hot" to ride but also did have some sense. She was generally much better in new situations than she was in anything changing at her home barn. One incident I remember well occurred at the barn I was boarding at, in their indoor ring, when Elsie was three years old. A visitor had come to use the ring to school her three-year-old in preparation for an upcoming show. The horse kept spooking and jumping, and of course always did this when he was behind us. Elsie would jump and scoot forward, or go sideways, but she settled right down again after each incident and I was very proud of her. She could easily have gotten caught up in the drama and joined in with some bucks/leaps of her own but she didn't. The rider of the other horse apologized to me afterwards with the excuse "but he's only three". I almost responded "so is my horse" but didn't.
But eventually I had to face reality. Bottom line – I was spending a ton of money that I didn’t really have to spend, and not having any fun. As a friend very tactfully put it “Barb…it’s nothing against you as a rider or her as a horse, but the two of you are a bad match”. As much as I loved Elsie, I agreed and put her up for sale. She ended up with a great home and was happy as could be when I visited her a few months later.
Before she was broke to ride, I did a lot of ground work with her. Most of the time I had no help, so had to figure out how to train her by myself. This turned out to be an advantage actually. I never had to rely on having someone available to help me. We struggled with the longing for a few weeks, then all of a sudden, it clicked with her and she did it.
We also took many long walks around the neighborhood roads while still in Washington, in the woods of the nearby Bridle Trails Park, and over to the indoor ring at the barn Dina Happy was based out of at the time. We’d hang out in the ring and watch the lessons. By the time she was ready to break, she’d already seen and done a lot.
A few years went by, Elsie was broke to ride, and I started riding her myself. She was very "hot" to ride but also did have some sense. She was generally much better in new situations than she was in anything changing at her home barn. One incident I remember well occurred at the barn I was boarding at, in their indoor ring, when Elsie was three years old. A visitor had come to use the ring to school her three-year-old in preparation for an upcoming show. The horse kept spooking and jumping, and of course always did this when he was behind us. Elsie would jump and scoot forward, or go sideways, but she settled right down again after each incident and I was very proud of her. She could easily have gotten caught up in the drama and joined in with some bucks/leaps of her own but she didn't. The rider of the other horse apologized to me afterwards with the excuse "but he's only three". I almost responded "so is my horse" but didn't.
But eventually I had to face reality. Bottom line – I was spending a ton of money that I didn’t really have to spend, and not having any fun. As a friend very tactfully put it “Barb…it’s nothing against you as a rider or her as a horse, but the two of you are a bad match”. As much as I loved Elsie, I agreed and put her up for sale. She ended up with a great home and was happy as could be when I visited her a few months later.
Sir Sam Blaze
After Elsie came Sam. Sam was a 5-year-old, 15.3 Paint gelding purchased at an auction and while I did know he was very green, I didn’t find out till later that he had only been broke about a month before the auction. Sam loved jumping and had lovely form to be a show ring hunter, and eventually that is what he ended up doing. A friend of mine (the tactful friend from above) started him jumping, and then I picked up. It worked out pretty well because rather than try to tell him what to do, I let him sort things out on his own and he became a happy, self-reliant jumper.
One of my funniest trail experiences came on Sam. Nick, with his mare Gladys, and I were hacking around the farm. We went up a hill next to one of the pastures, when something spooked Gladys.
She spun around and crashed into Sam, who spun around and started to gallop down the hill. A horse in the pasture ran alongside us, and I couldn’t stop Sam. I knew I could stop him at the bottom of the hill though, so I let him go
and sure enough, he pulled right up once we got to the level portion. Because crashing into Sam slowed Gladys down, Nick was able to pull her right up.
The picture above was taken the day we were supposed to go to a Paint show with a friend and her horse, but they were in a trailering accident on their way to pick us up. The horse, Buster, was trapped in the trailer for a time but he was OK. I eventually purchased Buster but that is another story.
One of my funniest trail experiences came on Sam. Nick, with his mare Gladys, and I were hacking around the farm. We went up a hill next to one of the pastures, when something spooked Gladys.
She spun around and crashed into Sam, who spun around and started to gallop down the hill. A horse in the pasture ran alongside us, and I couldn’t stop Sam. I knew I could stop him at the bottom of the hill though, so I let him go
and sure enough, he pulled right up once we got to the level portion. Because crashing into Sam slowed Gladys down, Nick was able to pull her right up.
The picture above was taken the day we were supposed to go to a Paint show with a friend and her horse, but they were in a trailering accident on their way to pick us up. The horse, Buster, was trapped in the trailer for a time but he was OK. I eventually purchased Buster but that is another story.
Payday Certain
There have been a few other horses over the years, but the last one I am going to talk
about at length is Buster. Buster…probably my favorite horse of all of them. A 15.2 registered Paint gelding, who I got in 1994 from a friend (the same friend who made the tactful remark about Elsie) but had known him since she bought him a few years earlier. One of the reasons I wanted him was after seeing him at Dressage at Devon when the friend showed him there. The water truck went by him, spewing water out, and all he did was look curiously at it as if to say “Well now, will you look at that, there is water coming out of that truck.” and then he went back to dozing.
Buster had some issues, someone at some point in his life had pushed him around but he knew there were nice people in the world in addition to the mean people, and once he decided you were nice, you could do anything with him. He was a little difficult to ride due to his issues, he was very touchy and sensitive and it was a challenge for me (my instructor at the time called him a “tactful ride”). But we worked through it and I would have confidently ridden Buster anywhere. When we went to the DVCTA Championship show at the Dressage Center, I knew he’d look askance at the viewing window so I entered him in the warmup class. But I also knew once he looked at it he’d be fine. It took once around the ring in each direction and he realized the window
was safe.
Buster self-loaded which was a huge help when Nick and I went to shows with Buster and Nick’s horse Dreyfus. Dreyfus, especially in his younger days, took two people to load and couldn’t be trusted tied to the trailer. So I would load Buster myself while Nick held Dreyfus, and then be free to help Nick.
Buster ended up with a variety of soundness issues, one of which prevented him moving up to First Level. Over a period of about two years, we tried to introduce lateral work three times and every time he’d end up unsound. Not lame, but you could tell something was bothering him. No matter how slowly and gradually we introduced it, the result was the same and we finally gave up. It was not like he was going to be a superstar dressage horse; dressage was not his “niche”.
Things escalated with his soundness and I’m still not really quite sure what was wrong. At one point I thought he had foundered, but he hadn’t. I took him to the New Bolton Center and they didn’t find anything major wrong, nothing excessive for his age. At one point I retired him and basically turned him out. After a few months, I realized he looked better so I cautiously started to ride him again.
I eventually found him an easier job, mostly doing trail rides, and at the time it was the right decision. Looking back on it over the years, I thought if I had to do it over I never would have let him go. He was a once in a lifetime horse and even if I couldn't do more than Training Level dressage with him, we still could have had some good times. Bu then in late 2016, I tracked him down and he was still doing well at 32 years of age! Teaching people pretty much everything - lower level dressage, some jumping, showmanship. I think that he was better off in that situation, doing a variety of different things and with more consistent work, than he would have been had he stayed with me. Sadly I received word in early 2017 that he had passed away one morning, about three months shy of his 33rd birthday. I hadn't had a chance to go see him but I honestly didn't really want to.
about at length is Buster. Buster…probably my favorite horse of all of them. A 15.2 registered Paint gelding, who I got in 1994 from a friend (the same friend who made the tactful remark about Elsie) but had known him since she bought him a few years earlier. One of the reasons I wanted him was after seeing him at Dressage at Devon when the friend showed him there. The water truck went by him, spewing water out, and all he did was look curiously at it as if to say “Well now, will you look at that, there is water coming out of that truck.” and then he went back to dozing.
Buster had some issues, someone at some point in his life had pushed him around but he knew there were nice people in the world in addition to the mean people, and once he decided you were nice, you could do anything with him. He was a little difficult to ride due to his issues, he was very touchy and sensitive and it was a challenge for me (my instructor at the time called him a “tactful ride”). But we worked through it and I would have confidently ridden Buster anywhere. When we went to the DVCTA Championship show at the Dressage Center, I knew he’d look askance at the viewing window so I entered him in the warmup class. But I also knew once he looked at it he’d be fine. It took once around the ring in each direction and he realized the window
was safe.
Buster self-loaded which was a huge help when Nick and I went to shows with Buster and Nick’s horse Dreyfus. Dreyfus, especially in his younger days, took two people to load and couldn’t be trusted tied to the trailer. So I would load Buster myself while Nick held Dreyfus, and then be free to help Nick.
Buster ended up with a variety of soundness issues, one of which prevented him moving up to First Level. Over a period of about two years, we tried to introduce lateral work three times and every time he’d end up unsound. Not lame, but you could tell something was bothering him. No matter how slowly and gradually we introduced it, the result was the same and we finally gave up. It was not like he was going to be a superstar dressage horse; dressage was not his “niche”.
Things escalated with his soundness and I’m still not really quite sure what was wrong. At one point I thought he had foundered, but he hadn’t. I took him to the New Bolton Center and they didn’t find anything major wrong, nothing excessive for his age. At one point I retired him and basically turned him out. After a few months, I realized he looked better so I cautiously started to ride him again.
I eventually found him an easier job, mostly doing trail rides, and at the time it was the right decision. Looking back on it over the years, I thought if I had to do it over I never would have let him go. He was a once in a lifetime horse and even if I couldn't do more than Training Level dressage with him, we still could have had some good times. Bu then in late 2016, I tracked him down and he was still doing well at 32 years of age! Teaching people pretty much everything - lower level dressage, some jumping, showmanship. I think that he was better off in that situation, doing a variety of different things and with more consistent work, than he would have been had he stayed with me. Sadly I received word in early 2017 that he had passed away one morning, about three months shy of his 33rd birthday. I hadn't had a chance to go see him but I honestly didn't really want to.
Ghost Dance
This is Dreyfus, who was Nick's horse. Dreyfus was a 15.3 Morgan/Thoroughbred gelding. We sold him in 2006 when Nick decided to get into training Standardbred racehorses. I will add more on him later.
Dreyfus died suddenly on July 6, 2015 at age 23.
Dreyfus died suddenly on July 6, 2015 at age 23.