By: Loren Spiotta-DiMare

Searching for his first horse, John was instantly drawn to the bay Quarter Horse. She stood out among the others. Head held high, she was alert and inquisitive as she paced back and forth in the field.

Born and well trained as a reigning horse out West, the mare’s life took a dramatic turn when she was sold and shipped to New Jersey. Stabled in a boarding facility, her new owner treated her like a sports car. He’d ignore her for weeks or months at a time then take her out on the trails, working her hard, forcing her off trails into impossible bush, pushing her beyond her will. Due to his callous behavior, she grew to hate the whole idea of being mounted because of what it represented.

By: Jessica Shaw

I’m not sure how many people have been graced with meeting an extraordinary yet odd animal, but I have. She is a plump palomino Quarter Horse named Cheyenne. Even when she is being really bad, she still makes you laugh. She is sooo funny that you can’t really help laughing. When she gives you one of her quizzical looks, laughter bubbles up inside you, and a big smile spreads across your face. When you meet a horse as absurd as Cheyenne, you can’t help but laugh.

By: Kimberly Dunkerson

“I was taking lesson’s from a women named ” Louise Yount.” She is a nice lady. My mom and her where talking about me and how I needed ot me moved up to a greater level of riding. While they where talking I was leaning up against a stall. When all of a sudden a baby filly comes over and blows in my ear. I turn around and laugh! She was cute. I asked Lou if I could go in and pet her. She said it would be allright. So I did.

By: Keri O’Neal

After years of pleading with my mother, circling classified ads, and annually attending the Scottsdale Arabian Horse Show I finally convinced my mother to buy me my very own Arabian. We already had two horses, a very sweet but slightly crippled mare and an unruly Thoroughbred gelding, both given to us, but I was in love with the proud and beautiful Arabian. I suppose it all stemmed back to Walter Farely’s magical series: The Black Stallion.

By: Nicole Wiitala

If you close your eyes and concentrate, maybe you can envision it in your mind as easily as I can.  Wherever you are right now, whether it’s sitting on your couch in front of the TV or on your bed under a reading lamp, whether you’re nestled comfortably between to branches high in a tree or sitting on a lounge chair next to the ocean.. forget that place for just a moment. 

By: Gail Lee

“Are you ready to leave yet?”

“Yes, I’m going out to the barn now,” was the reply on the phone.

“See you somewhere in the middle. Bye.” I hung up and headed for the pasture to catch my horse.

Three miles separated the home of my best friend Gayle from mine. During the summer before our 6th grade year we had discovered new freedom. Our parents now allowed us to go horseback riding together and we rode as often as we could. It was our routine to leave home at the same time and start riding toward each other. Once we met, somewhere in the middle, we would then decide where to ride.

By: Angie Hartman

A dear old friend has come back into my life. He comes in the form of a twenty-five year old bay quarter horse gelding named Little Man. With him came a flood of memories that bring a smile to my face and a tear to my eye.

We met the summer of my twelfth year. Little Man was a three year old that had been loaned to Camp Winiwaca for the summer. When our camp session started, he was in his final days of mending from a broken leg. I was a frustrated city girl with an overwhelming infatuation with horses and the dream of becoming a country veterinarian. It was love at first sight!

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: Laura and Angela Cardarelli

Howdy, my name is Angela. I would like to share a story with you about a retired show horse named Bucky. When Bucky could no longer participate in horse shows, he discovered a special way to feel useful.

By: George Stalzer

As a young boy I dreaded one Saturday chore most of all. With two days off from school I should have been happy, but after looking under the stoop I knew it was going to be another one of those terrible Saturday mornings. I sat down to wait and listen for the sound of Tony and his fruit and vegetable wagon coming up the hill.
“Why don’t he come on school days?” I thought. And then I heard him “Fresh Fruit! – Fresh Vegetable!” and the sound of hoofs clip clopping along. Tony led Caroline around the corner, and to the bottom of our dead end street, guiding her and the wagon in a half circle to stop right in front of our house. Tony fed her an apple, a reward, I suppose, for the steep climb. The neighborhood ladies did their shopping while Caroline stood quietly, her ears sticking through holes in a straw hat sitting atop her head, and her tail whipping side to side chasing the flies away. Caroline was something special to the little kids staring at this huge animal right in front of their door.

By: Patti Leininger

He was born on a snowy Valentines Day to our red roan halter mare Strawberry Misty. This was her first foal and already I had his future planned. He would be a beautiful halter horse as were his parents. As I looked at this fuzzy shivering red foal with the sweatshirt on, our bond was beginning. He was soft and cuddly with a curious nature. I named him Valentine Laddy and I took him to my heart.

By: Cathy Elliott

“Quit doing that! What’s wrong with you, horse?”

I couldn’t see the speaker but the frustration in his voice made me cringe. Would he harm the horse? Maybe not if someone was watching. Urging my mare into a brisk trot, we rounded the corner and came to an abrupt stop. About twenty feet away were two sailors dressed in white uniforms, one astride a buckskin and the other standing, facing a big, bay gelding.

By: Lynda Webber

As a shy and painfully self-conscious sixteen-year-old who had not yet learned to appreciate the benefits of blossoming to almost 5’9” in her stocking feet, I felt awkward around my peers and had few friends. School was a form of social torture, but I tolerated it with resignation because when the bell rang at the end of the day or when the weekend finally came, I had another life. I lived solely to ride.

By: Lanell Witte

Once in a great while there comes a time when a horse touches our hearts just as Chipper touched mine. I can remember back to when I was about seven years old maybe even younger when Chipper first came into my life. A friend of mine named Steve owned Chipper he had gotten him for his birthday. Because I didn’t have a horse or pony back then we shared him. For years we rode him together in shows and on the road, trailrides, you could say we rode his legs off him. A few years later when I turned eleven my parents bought me a Quarter Horse filly for a Christmas present.

By: Kathy Anderson

Horses have always brought out the best and worst in me. A retired American Saddlebred brood mare named Cece challenged every aspect of my personality. She had been a show horse so she knew the tricks of the trade and would proudly prance around the arena with her head high and her alert eyes catching the attention of onlookers. But like me, a professional woman who knew the tricks of my trade, was tired of doing it.