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.

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By: Lisa Clement

I had just returned from a horse-buying trip to Oklahoma and Texas finding nothing to please me. I spotted an ad run in a local Southern California horse-trading magazine and made a call to see the horse. Sometimes you can travel a long way only to find what you want is right in your own backyard.

By: Vicki Scammell

“Vicki, Vicki wake up the barn is burning!”

“Yeah whatever.”

“Vicki the house may catch on fire too. GET UP.”

That was the beginning of the most terrifying four hours of my life.

The night of January 10, 1996 had started off like any other evening on my farm. I had my two barns of chores to do and then I planned to go out. I was in hurry because I didn’t want to be late to meet with my friends, so I rushed about my barn doing my chores. Chores consisted of the care of one hundred and seven cattle and our three wonderful horses: Clover, Smokey and Flicka.

By: Eliza Dandridge

I acquired him like I acquired my other horse. I was going to work with him, but I fell in love. With Sierra, it was just lust. She was a big beautiful mare. She should have been a, then, thirteen year old girl’s perfect first horse, had it not been for her horrible attitude under saddle. I was bucked off of her more times than I had ever been bucked off of any horse in my ten years of riding. But with Bear, it was love. From the first time I saw him, to today when I went out to the stable and rode him and fed him. True love never comes easy though. You always have to give up something, in my case; it involved a lot of pain.

By Charli Ann Stevens

Have you ever met a horse that was absolutely destined to be yours—yours not only once, but twice and forever more?

By: Kelly Castano

I don’t think that I’ve ever cried so much over something. I’ve cried tears of pain, joy, frustration, and recently grief all over my horse Kidd. It had been 3 months of horse searching after I lost my draft x mare and I wanted another mare just like her. It had to be just like her. I even refused an adorable mare and foal. I first heard about Kidd as a horse who a lady was giving away to a good home. If I had only known why. Kidd was a 15 year old off the track TB gelding. Definitely not what I was looking for. I went to see him because my mom wanted me to.

By: Pacia Dixon

Sky Rocket was an over-sized Shetland Pony-cross, stout as a tugboat, and just as scrappy. He was an animated bright white, pint-sized Roman warhorse, quite capable of conquering a city, with his flared nostrils, open mouth and great round arched crest, punctuated by a three-inch long roached mane. But this little mount was not used for vanquishing enemies. He was owned by a 1960’s cowgirl baby boomer, my neighbor, and he specialized in stealing young girls’ hearts. I could feel my own heart flying out of its ribcage whenever I heard them come galloping up our driveway for impromptu visits.

By: Kimberley Tadder

Like many girls, I badgered my parents for a horse. I got my first horse, a pony, when I was in seventh grade. I did everything with “Duke”, the county fair, parades, and trail rides. As I got older and was outgrowing Duke, I started pestering my parents for a full size horse. When I was a freshman in high school they finally gave in and we started looking for a horse.

By: C.M. Jones

I think she was about thirteen when she started to dry her wings
Trying out new ways of thinking while she tried to plan her dreams
She lived in the city she was just another kid.

Her friends trying to make her do things she often wondered why she did Her home was an apartment up about four flights of stairs
And from the condition of the building it sure showed nobody cared
Well as fate would have it she found herself alone.

But she had herself an uncle who offered her a home.

By: Elizabeth Clark

I awoke and looked over to my left where my sisters bed was. It was empty and I inwardly scolded myself. Usually I awoke the exact same moment I heard my sister get up, even if I was in a dead sleep. I quickly got out of bed wondering how long my sister had been up and with the horses. As soon as I was dressed, I rushed outside. The morning was clear and smelled fresh of spring. I heard the birds singing their sweet spring song but I heard a hint of something else in their song.

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: Jenny

As a little kid, I always imagined myself owning a light silvery grey horse with a black mane and tail and black points. We would win all sorts of ribbons and awards, eyes would turn to look at us, the girl on her handsome grey steed. I never forgot that fantasy, keeping it in my heart.

By: Mary McCandless

Cassie scowled nervously. This horse show was one of the biggest shows she and her horse Babette had ever been in, and important people were watching her. This was part of the culmination of long years of struggle to be noticed by somebody – anybody – with enough money and influence to buy her a world class horse and sponsor her in her bid to make the Olympic team. She grasped the reins just below the bit and pushed Babette forward, walking up and down, up and down in the holding area outside the arena. One more rider to go.