A story of a renewed spirit for both a horse and a girl by Becca Clayton

One day I was going to the barn I ride at to see my mean horse, Cheyenne. Cheyenne had bitten me three times the day before and kicked me twice. So I went into her pasture and when she saw me she immediately laid back her ears and snapped at me.

My older sister Brooke, was going into the pasture to get her amazing horse Moe. Brooke would never let me ride Moe and this hurt my feelings terribly. Even though Brooke knew the confidence I once had, was gone due to Cheyenne, she still did not let me ride Moe.

By: Lori Ford
Contributions from the forum of Americanpasofinos.com

In December 2001, I moved back to Florida from Texas, bringing my aged 19 year old Arabian mare with me. Not wanting to ride alone, I encouraged my mother to purchase another horse for us to ride together on her ranch. She told me that if she did, she was getting something gaited, preferably a Paso Fino. Mom had never ridden one, but had seen one being ridden, and was enamored already.

By: Shannon Hooten

A few years back on a beautiful summer day I was on my grandmother’s farm up in Grants Pass, Oregon. Here in Arizona it’s anything but beautiful in the summer. But, that’s enough about that. Gamma’s farm, back then, had seven chickens, two Rottweilers, a Queensland Blue Healer, two sheep, five cats, and five horses. The horses are the main part of my story. There’s an Appaloosa named Harley, an Arabian called Justice, two Rocky Mountain horses named Bastian and Moonshine, and a mix of horse breeds named Dakota. To shorten it even more, this story is about Dakota & Moonshine.

By: Sharon Gibson

Southern California horses seldom have to deal with bad weather. They rarely, if ever, see snow. Elad lives in Los Angeles so that makes him a “city” horse. City horses face different and sometimes interesting challenges.

Elad spent his early years as a racehorse. Part of his training covered clipping, trailering and being on his best behavior for vets and farriers. He also learned to break from the gate and to run as fast as he could on good footing. I don’t think he ever heard the words “lateral movement” in his racing days and I’m sure backing up on command never crossed his mind.

By: Denise Trizinsky

My love of horses really has no beginning, it just is, and has always been a part of who I am. I started riding when I was 5 years old. My family purchased a horse for my ninth birthday. He was an energetic two-year old Appaloosa from Boise, Idaho appropriately named “Bob’s Gitty Up Go”. I learned quickly a few of life’s lessons. The full and exact meaning of stubbornness, a backyard pool is not necessarily a good amenity next to the horse barn, and that a crash course in time management is helpful with relationship to the daily routine of mucking stalls, feeding, exercising, and getting your school studies done.

By: Audrey Pavia

The first time I ever touched her was on a damp winter night. She had just been used for her fourth jumping lesson that day. The teenaged rider dismounted, handing me the reins as our trainer requested.

The mare seemed relieved to stand quietly and rest. I reached to touch her steaming, spotted coat, I could feel the taughtness of her neck muscles, and could see the anxiety in her eyes. A rose-colored, spotted horse she was aptly named Rosie. She had a hard life as part of the boarding stable for these last seven years, following too long a stay at a feed lot where horses were generally auctioned. She had been spared the slaughterhouse. Her new life as a lesson horse was difficult for her.

By: Francine Acord

In the late summer of 1998, my beautiful, vivacious, bouncy 12-year old daughter became sluggish and was slowing down. She was pale and lethargic. Her tan had faded, and it seemed her spirit had too. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but she wasn’t right. Within a couple weeks she began to complain about chest pains. The pains were so sharp she could not sleep during the day, or at night. Within six weeks, she was in a wheel chair. Two months later, after many tests and nowhere else to turn, she was diagnosed with Fibromyalsia, a very painful, debilitating disease. While relieved we had a “name” for the disease; I was in shock and disbelief. It was not a life-threatening disease at this point, but it was certainly life altering. How could this happen? I wondered what had I done to deserve this, or even more so, what had she done to deserve this incredible pain and agony at such a tender age?

By: Brittany Gentry

I was nine when I got my first horse. I knew I was going to love taking care of Star, all the time! And I did, until the winter came. Each morning before school and in the evening, I had to go out and feed her.

By: Brittany Gentry

I had a dream of becoming acknowledged in the horse world. For years, I saved my babysitting money, and the money I earned from doing odd jobs, such as mowing, feeding animals, and watering. Finally, I was able to buy a horse of my own, something of which many kids only dream.. A couple of years later I was able to buy a second horse.

By: Christine Kang

It was the second week of August and my mother’s patience with me was reaching its end. At 13, I was already known throughout town as outspoken, stubborn, and incorrigible. My mother herself wasn’t a very patient or flexible person either. It was the ten thousandth argument of the summer, only this time it wasn’t about clothes or curfew, but about my horseback riding.