"It's a holiday if I'm not wearing spurs!"

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Last weekend (and extending into today) was a long weekend. As I read Facebook posts about camping, trail riding and water sports, and saw trucks pulling boats, campers and motor homes heading down highway 20, I admit I felt a twinge of envy, especially since the weather was perfect for those kind of holidays.  My holiday of choice would have been a trail ride but instead of that or water sports and evenings by the campfire, I spent the weekend by myself at home doing what I do almost every day - caring for and riding horses. 

I guess my "holiday" was the previous weekend, July 27-29, when Wildwood Reining Horses hosted a three-day Vern Sapergia horsemanship/reining clinic. My house and yard was filled with people and horses . . . and an old friend.

Vern demonstrating to Donna and I
Vern and I go back a long way - back to the hills of Saskatchewan, reining shows, working in Italy, clinics and many, many soul-searching heart-to-hearts. Although 'time for talking' was limited last weekend, we still managed to have a couple of in-depth discussions.  One topic was about time off - holidays - of which neither of us gets much. Vern told me he had plans to "holiday" a little after the clinic before he returns to Austria. His family, he said, told him he never took a real holiday. Vern disagreed.

"Don't you remember?" he said to his son-in-law. And he reminded him of a one-day outing they had once had. His son-in-law disagreed, saying it was nothing but a spur-of-the-moment little adventure.

"Yes, it was a holiday!" Vern said. "Any time I'm not wearing spurs it's a holiday!"

So that's the 'holiday' criteria for horse trainers... Although I somewhat agree, I can have a holiday even if I am wearing spurs, like last weekend.

Vern's clinic, as always, was fabulous - informative and fun! I know of no other clinician who could and would give more of themselves to each and every student. He loves to teach.

"I will never retire," said Vern, "As long as I have something to teach and someone wants to learn."

The clinic, however, was not for anyone who wanted to be stroked or coddled. Vern tells it like it is! He also pushes everyone to the limits of their capabilities. He has an innate sense of how far is too far, though, and riders come away from the clinic with the wonderful realization that they (and/or their horse) have accomplished  more than they thought possible!

Shannon getting spurs on - guess the holiday is over!
I think Vern might have to admit the trip to the Chilcotin was a little bit of a holiday even if he didn't take off his spurs. Evenings around the firepit, a visit with a long-lost cousin, lots of good food and laughter counts for something. Good horses doing good things does too. Sliding my stallion, Walking With Wolves, sure brought a smile to his face!

Vern and Walking With Wolves (Photo by Jordan Grier)

And when the clinic was over Sunday evening, Vern was the first to say, "Let's go!" when we were invited to Chilco Ranch for an impromptu team roping and didn't hesitate when Jordan offered him Maverick, a rope and a glove.
Vern on Maverick getting the job done. (Photo by Crystal Grier)
Check out that smile! (Photo by Crystal Grier)
He still had his spurs on so maybe even these moments didn't qualify as a holiday but I'm pretty sure he loved every minute of it.

So I am not going to cry any tears about not being able to take time off for the long weekend. I strapped on spurs just like I do almost every day and rode some fine horses.

Wildwood Mistral and I (Photo by Jordan Grier)

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Hearts in the Sand

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The sun had already set as I slowly drove through the trees and down the sandy driveway to my yard. I had met my friend at the corner and we had driven to Williams Lake for shopping and dinner but now, possibly for the first time, I didn't want to come home.

Bypassing my house yard, I drove past the gate and parked close to the barn, turned the key off, got out and put one leaden foot in front of the other, glancing at the old round pen to my left but walking instead to the barn to feed my stallions, one in the barn and one in a pen behind. It was then I saw the first heart drawn in the sand at the door of my barn. 


I knew what the significance of the heart in the sand was... Thinking about that, I forked feed to Little Wolf and Wolf, then plodded by the old round pen again on a path across the arena to check and feed the broodmares. Usually my two pretty fillies, Perfect and Cameo, lifted my spirits but tonight I doubted they would. Feed them I must though so I shuffled along eyes to the ground . . . and stopped. There, in the harrow drag-track across the arena, was another heart, carefully scribed, carefully positioned so I would see it when I crossed the arena.


Hearts in the sand. I knew who drew them . . . and why. "I thought they might cheer you up," he said later. Well, no - the hearts in the sand didn't cheer me up but I so appreciated the effort because, you see, I had come home that evening to one less horse. Destiny was gone.

Wildwood Destiny entered my world on April 20, 1993 and immediately captured my heart. The first foal for my good mare, Wildwood Tamarac, I had great expectations for her. Her sire was an own son of Doc Bar and double bred King; her dam was sired by Solanos Peppy San. I was sure she would be a reining horse and had plans to train her and compete in the NRHA Futurity in Oklahoma City in 1996.

April 20, 1993 - Destiny born to Tamarac
But my talented little bay mare was "destined" to overcome adversity time and time again. Savaged by her mother when she was only a few hours old, lost in the mountains when she was two, sustaining a traumatic shoulder injury at three and surgery and three pins in her leg at four years old, we missed the futurity. I entered the reining pen only a few times before breeding her. Again, she faced pain, the pain of losing her three week old filly. 

Destiny and her first born, Lace.
Through it all she remained cheerful and tough - really tough. She learned to not only survive but thrive and went on to gift me with wonderful trail rides, beautiful foals and a charming stable presence. Last year she raised her last foal and I did not breed her again, believing she would be with me for several years of retirement. I was wrong. A sudden debilitating lameness left me only with a choice I did not want to make. For the past few months I spent time with her every day, moving her to grass, penning her alone at night so she would not be hurt running from the others. She was never far from me and she always greeted me with ears up and often whinnied, making a difficult decision even more difficult.

On July 12, a vet humanely euthanized Destiny at home. I lost a very special friend and the fourth of what I call "The Dynasty". 

The morning after I discovered the 'hearts in the sand', I walked to Destiny's grave by the fence east of the house. There I found another heart - this one outlined in river stone - and inside the heart, a "bouquet" of grass and alfalfa in flower. While my friend had kept me company her husband had tried his very best to ease the pain he knew I would feel when I came home to an empty pen. Thank you, my friends, for lifting my heart just a little...


And now life begins without Destiny, although I still imagine I see her face looking through the rails at me with her ears up and her nose stretched to my hand as it was when I said goodbye. I can still feel the softness of that nose although she has been gone for a week. 

Destiny (center with head up) with her family 1999
Duchess, Mahogany (at back)
Tamarac and Silk (mare and foal upper right)
Kokanee, Promise, Whisper and Harmony)
Duchess, Mahogany, Tamarac (Desiny's maternal ancestors) and her little filly, Lace, are buried on myold property in Armstrong and Destiny is here in the Chilcotin but I like to think they are together now as they were in the photo above. And the legacy of this fine maternal line still lives . . . in Legacy and Legacy's offspring. Last spring Destiny's daughter, Legacy, foaled out a beautiful bay filly that I named Wildwood Perfect Six because she is the first of the sixth generation of this line of Wildwood mares. Perfect, Legacy and Legacy's siblings - Whiskey, Sable, Honor, Magic and Breeze - carry the genes of this fine mare. She will never really be gone.

I took the photos below on July 12, 2012, the last day I spent with Destiny. The first is of Destiny with Legacy and Perfect - I thought she should meet her granddaughter. In the second photo, Destiny is looking off in the distance. What is she thinking here? That she would like to trot over the hills like she used to? I hope she's doing that now. 
Legacy, Perfect and Destiny

Those hearts in the sand have been erased by the footsteps of her stable mates (somehow fitting) but my memories of Destiny will live on. For nineteen years she was part of my world. Now a river rock 'heart' marks her final resting place. I go to see her there every day. Miss you, girl. Rest in peace.

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Horse Camping at Beaverdam Lake

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     It’s been a while coming, but I finally managed a brief “holiday” – with horses, of course. On the weekend of June 1-3, I met with friends at Beaverdam Lake for a weekend of campfires, camaraderie, and trail riding. Some things don’t change, though – I co-ordinated the trip to include dropping off another horse after the camp-out and I brought the greenest horse I have on the property to ride (for the experience, of course because I would not want to miss a training opportunity…)

     Arriving at the campsite at around 5:00 PM on Friday, I talked briefly with my friends, Mandy and Shawn, about where and how to overnight my mares. Prima, an aged broodmare, had never been on a campout and Sapphire, a four-year-old mare, had never been hauled prior to the 250 km I had just hauled her. She was brand new to everything.

Beaver Dam Lake as seen from our camp site
     After weighing all options (including pens at a facility across the lake), I decided I would high-line both a short distance from my outfit. I’m happy to say they adapted to the high-line right away.

Sapphire and Prima high-lined. Mischa went too!
     The next day, we saddled for a ride. I started before the others so I could test the waters – how Sapphire would react to the new country and how Prima would cope with Sapphire leaving. Prima was not happy but I was occupied with Sapphire, who did not want to leave the camp site. A few well-placed smacks lined her out and we headed away from camp into a meadow at a ground-covering long trot broken by sudden halts when Sapphire tried to head back. How very much like her dam this mare is! I went back ten years to the first rides out I had on Silk . . . and I love them for their grit! When I returned to camp, Mandy, Shawn and Lacey were ready to ride. Prima, still not happy, would have the company of another horse and Mandy’s mom to monitor the situation.


Sapphire and I 
     After the somewhat reluctant start, Sapphire was good on the ride, in part because she had company. Mandy, Shawn and I all rode 2008 offspring of Running With Wolves. The three - Wildwood Sable, Wildwood Cactus and Wildwood Sapphire - are from his first foal crop and all out of daughters of Tamarac. How cool is that!

Me on Sapphire, Shawn on Cactus, Mandy and Sable

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She's Perfect!

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A week ago today I welcomed a new life into the world. My good bay mare, daughter of Destiny, granddaughter of Tamarac, great-granddaughter of Mahogany and great-great-granddaughter of my beloved Duchess, foaled out the first of a sixth generation of that ‘Dynasty’.

Since I live alone, I foal out my mares by myself and I can assure you that, in the middle of the night, at the moment of delivery, I always feel a bit of panic (My vet told me there would be something wrong if I didn’t!). At the moment ‘no turning back’ I say a little prayer that all will go well. As many of you know, last year did not … which has increased my anxiety level.

This time, though, I was not alone. By some twist of karma, a friend was passing through on a work assignment in the area and was visiting – not just any friend but a fellow with broodmares of his own and who, at one time, boarded them with me. Many is the time we foaled out a mare in the still of the night! As soon as Rod arrived last Sunday evening I told him Legacy would foal that night.

“Do you want me to call you only if I need you or do you want me to call you anyway?” I asked him. He quickly answered that he would like to share the experience with me as we had done so many times years before.

As I predicted, Legacy went into labour about 3:00 AM. I called Rod.

Legacy’s delivery was not easy. I needed help and, against all odds, I had help to deliver a beautiful bay foal at 3:50 AM. As Rod and I stepped back to allow mare/foal bonding, he commented that we had worked together with very few words and knowing just what the other one was doing and how to do it. I had not thought about it at the time but he was right. We had both dropped into the roles we needed to without even thinking about it. 


Every one of this foal’s matriarchal ancestor’s first foal was a filly. I was sure this one would be a colt. Not so. Following the pattern of her ancestors, Legacy’s first was a filly. And she was perfect.

Not so Legacy. She needed immediate veterinary attention so, after finding a driver (Rod had to go to work!), I rode in the trailer with both of them to the vet in Williams Lake where we spent the rest of the day, Legacy expertly attended to and the little filly playing and sleeping on the lawn.

I am happy to say, Legacy is on the mend. I would have probably lost my mare had I not made that trip.

Riding in the back of the trailer for 100 km, I had lots of time to think. I could not decide on a name for the newest edition and I mulled over the possibilities, never quite satisfied with anything I could come up with. It was only yesterday that the name became clear. She had really already named herself! Every time someone asked about the foaling, I prefaced the account of Legacy's problems with “The baby’s perfect but…” Finally it dawned on me. Her name is "Perfect" . . . and, since I wanted to use something to signify the 6th generation, her AQHA name will be "Wildwood Perfect Six".

Big handle for a little filly but she’s up for the challenge. After all, her daddy is Walking With Wolves and he’s always been up for any challenge.

And while I wait and worry about the next mare to foal, who is at day 366 gestation today, I am falling in love with this one-week-old, pretty bay filly. How dangerous is that? Or is that just perfect...

Wildwood Perfect Six at one week

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The legacy continues...

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In the early hours of May 7th, my good mare, Legacy (Wildwood Legacy Lace) foaled out a beautiful bay filly. While every foal is a miracle and every foaling a landmark event, this one was more special and more noteworthy than most. This filly is the first of a sixth generation Wildwood mares. Here's how it goes: 

Duchess and I at CFR 1974

In 1968, I bought a two-year-old mare from Doug and Nancy Dear in Montana. Her name was Ma Dear but I immediately called her Duchess. Race bred (sired by Pasamonte Paul out of a Classy Bar mare), powerful and athletic, she was to be my next barrel racing mare. That she was – she took me to a CCA championship and the Canadian National Finals – but what I didn’t know is that she would found a dynasty of Wildwood horses. Duchess lived to be 36 and was with me for 34 years. She lived to see four descending generations.






Wildwood Mahogany
In 1979, I bred to Duchess to my stallion, Seco Top Moon (a black son of Top Moon) and she foaled out a bay filly, Wildwood Mahogany. I trained Mahogany and both my daughter and I
showed her in a wide variety of classes from halter to reining.





 

Wildwood Tamarac
 
Now hooked on reining, I bred Mahogany to Solanos Peppy San and, in 1987, she foaled out Wildwood Tamarac, a sorrel mare with undeniable talent, sweet personality and a fantastic disposition. I trained and showed Tamarac in reining competitions in Saskatchewan, Alberta and BC as well as many reining demonstrations. She was my first futurity reining horse! Tamarac is not only an important link in this dynasty; she is also a key element in the gene pool of many my Quarter Horses.




Wildwood Destiny

Since I wanted a foal from this good mare, I bred Tamarac and, in 1993 she gave me Wildwood Destiny, a bay filly sired by Podoco (grandson of Doc Bar with strong King breeding on the bottom). Like Destiny’s maternal ancestors, I trained and showed her. She was a dream to ride!

By now I knew I was building a dynasty! Tamarac produced six fillies in a row before producing a colt. At this point, my focus was the maternal line as I had access to sires with performance records so I was thrilled to have so many fillies from such a good mare.





Wildwood Legacy Lace packing

Not to be undone, Destiny foaled out five fillies in a row when she entered the broodmare band. The one I selected to keep was Wildwood Legacy Lace, a bay daughter of Listo Pollito Lena born in 2003. Like the rest, she went into training but, although she is a finished reining horse, I showed her only lightly, mostly because I moved and had to make a choice which horse to show. I did use Legacy trail riding, packing and as a wonderful quiet lesson horse.



Wildwood Legacy Lace and the new generation.
 Last year I bred Legacy to my stallion, Walking With Wolves and in the quiet hours of the morning of May 7th, Legacy presented me with the next generation of this Wildwood Dynasty – a beautiful, strong, healthy bay filly that taxed her mother’s strength (and mine!) to the maximum. She's perfect and she carries the genes of five great mares that I have raised, ridden, shown and bonded with. It seems like this new addition to the dynasty should have a name befitting the occasion but I have not settled on one yet. If I can’t find one that connects the dots, I will call her Shiraz. She’s bold, full-bodied and, like a fine wine, better with age.

It’s interesting that the first foal for all of the mares in this maternal line was a filly. Even Mahogany, who went on to produce several colts, had a filly first. Duchess, Mahogany, Tamarac, Destiny, Legacy and now little Shiraz. The legacy continues…



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Showing Me What She Knows

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With warmer weather finally taking the ice and snow off of my outdoor arena this past week, I couldn’t wait to ride. Only a small circle was dry enough to ride on but I caught up my two young mares, Mistral and Sapphire. After a short lunge (I hate lunging!), I stepped up on first Mistral, then Sapphire, and suppled and circled for a few minutes. Both mares, although out of shape, immediately settled into the training program.

It’s always rewarding to pick up a horse after months layoff and find out she still remembers everything but I expect that. I’ve seen it too many times not to expect that. It never fails to amaze me, however, when a horse that has been off for years wants to work for me! That’s what happened next.

Prima (Peppy Del Cielo) is 13 years old. She is a well-trained but not finished, reiner. Due to a slight unsoundness in early training, I quit riding her and bred her in 2004. The last time she was ridden (except for hopping on and off bareback in 2007) was 2003. She is not in foal now so, after working Mistral and Sapphire, I caught Prima up for a ride.

I remembered Prima was always ‘cinchy’ so I didn’t saddle her. Instead, I lunged her for about five minutes, walked her over to an upside-down tub I could mount bareback from and slipped on her broad back. As my weight settled into her, she rocked forward and back, a bit uncomfortable but not unsettled at all. Then, in response to my soft leg bump, she walked forward. With only a halter and lead rope on the left side of her neck we walked out into the arena, stopped, walked, turned. I believe she actually loved showing me what she knows. Even at a walk I felt the smoothness of this mare, the ease with which she had performed complicated maneuvers, like spins. I’m sure she would have spun that day if I had asked her to.

That short ride on Prima made my day, made my week actually. Every day for the next few days, I did the same until yesterday, when we jogged several circles– still bareback with a halter. Prima actually initiated the jog and was happy to pack me around – and she is so smooth! And so broke...







I would like to ride her bareback for several more rides but I’m wondering if I, not Prima, can handle it. Once off of a walk, the leg muscles are telling me how out of shape I am. Maybe we can get in shape together…

Kind of makes me wonder, though why horses remember forever and I don’t. Last winter I took up crocheting after many years away from it and I couldn’t remember how - nothing,  not even a basic stitich! It’s not like it was a fleeting hobby – I crocheted, knitted and embroidered for years! I can hardly call a horse’s intelligence inferior to mine, can I? Of course I already knew it wasn't so.

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