Who picked whom? Part 1.

L on October 26th, 2003, 2 years old.


2003 had been a very bad year.

I'd lost my crazy OTTB over the wintertime. We had been treating him for EPM since November (2002) and while there was an occasional encouraging sign it was a losing battle. My J was dumb as a post but he was as lovable a creature as there ever was. Somehow he and I came to an understanding and we took care of each other. He taught me a lot. I think he was 15 years old and whatever the case, he still had a lot left. I still miss him something awful.

We had several Canadian Horses in our barn. They were all black. Everybody wants black Canadian Horses. I had known of Canadian Horses for a year or two before I knew they came in chestnut. I'm kinda partial to chestnut horses. That's important.

So over the summertime I half leased a lovely (black) Canadian mare. I think she was 4 years old. Green as can be. She was (is) a perfectly lovely animal. Of course she wasn't mine so I was careful not to get too attached. Just as well. There were some barn issues and some drama. Things didn't work out.

By the way. I think every barn needs one of these:

Maybe I'll have some made.

I was half heartedly looking for a Spotted Draft Horse in the fall when it came time to take my B for the long walk. B was my Quarter Horse. He was my first horse. He'd had navicular disease, a painful bone disease in his front feet. It got to where he would hardly take a step without a couple of bute in him and it was time. I never knew his age but our best guess was he was maybe 23 or 24 years old.

It's fair to say in October 2003 I was in a funk of sorts.

My riding partner at the time, M, had also recently lost her horse. She had a arranged a shopping trip to Ferme Litjens in Quebec to look for a Canadian Horse.

I went along for the ride. I wasn't really shopping...

Added October 3, 2010: go on to part 2

She started it!

Cassie did. This is Cassiopeia.


Cassie is an Appaloosa although she doesn't look much like one. She acts like one though. You know the joke.

I took up horseback riding late in life. A very good friend suggested I try taking a few lessons. She had a horse. I liked visiting the barn. I've been around animals all my life. It would be something fun to do and a good way to meet women.

I got lucky. My instructor's focus was on the experience of being with the animal rather than just learning and applying techniques. I was assigned Cassie and we started with "this end bites and this end kicks" and went from there. This is how you clean hooves and this is how you groom and this is how you saddle and bridle.

By my 3rd lesson I was hooked and then by my 5th lesson I was hooked in a big way. Cassie is one sweet ride! When she was in the zone she'd swing her nose to music only she could hear and I swear she'd rock you to sleep. And it's fair to say, even though I'd had lessons in the past and been on trail rides, Cass is really the first horse I ever rode.

I really enjoyed my riding lessons and I couldn't get enough.

Within 6 months I had my first horse.


I'll call him "B". B was an (unregistered) American Quarter Horse. He'd come into the barn as a prospect for someone else and failed his vet check. B had navicular disease.

He'd be sent back to the sale barn he came from and most likely to auction from there. He didn't deserve that. He was a good boy, he was well trained and he'd served someone well. I don't know how they could have done that to him. Dumped him like that. I didn't know his age, 13 to 15 was a best guess, he was thought to have been a working cow horse from Ohio and I was gonna learn a lot from B. I didn't know what I was getting into but I knew I was getting into something.

I learned a lot and he grew old and grey and sway backed. I'm kinda partial to old horses. He took good care of me and I did my very best to return the favor. May he rest in peace.