May of 2007 was an amazing month; it was the month I fell in love with the American Saddlebred (Saddlebred). I had been involved with horses since I was ten. My first horse was a National Show Horse (½ Saddlebred, ½ Arabian) gelding, but I had never owned a purebred Saddlebred. However, that changed in May when J arrived.
Buying J was probably the craziest thing I had ever done since I bought him after only looking at a video and pictures; never seeing him in person. When you see a horse as striking as J, you just know you have to buy him. Even through the video I could tell he had such a presence about him. Still, it was quite the leap of faith since J lived in Washington State; and his new home was Chicago.
When I bought J he had barely turned two years old, and he was still an “entire man.” His former owner and I were debating on whether to snip him or not. I had never owned a stallion and knew next to nothing about promoting a stallion. I could only imagine how difficult it would be to get the word out and find breeders willing to take a chance on a young, unproven stud. However, J was so regal, so beautiful, I thought, “Maybe I can dabble into this new area of owning a horse.”
Being a horse enthusiast, I had been around stallions often; the infamous stallion around the barn was a non-Saddlebred and, well, you were careful around this guy. I had heard stories of a stallion that would bite his grooms and clamp down so hard he was able to throw them into a wall. One time, I was riding my trainer’s stallion and all of a sudden the stud just decided he was not going to work anymore. Instead, he decided to bolt and there was absolutely nothing I could do to get him to stop. Eventually, he got tired, but it was pretty scary knowing that you had no control over the animal you were riding. Of course these experiences were non-saddlebreds, but I thought “a stallion is a stallion.”
Due to my past experiences with stallions, I was excited but cautious with J. I wanted to make sure that when J arrived at the barn, I was there to bring him to his stall. I didn’t want someone to get hurt before I was able to teach J manners. When J stepped off the trailer, my first thought was “He is extraordinary!” Words could not describe how striking he looked. He was 15.3 hands and still growing. He was a black bay pinto with remarkable markings; 4 white stockings, a splash of white on his back, with the rest of him a deep chocolate color. He was breathtaking and he knew it. Once J stepped off the trailer ramp and reached the gravel parking lot, he surveyed his new home with his head held high and called to all the new females. I’m sure he said “Ladies, I have arrived.”
I put J into his stall; his new home was surrounded by nice old geldings. These old gents wouldn’t care if a hormone raged two year old was into the ladies or not. My hope was the geldings’ calmness would rub off on J, although I knew this was a long shot. I was lucky enough to find a stall that is not only surrounded by geldings, but also was conveniently placed within ear shot of my trainer. I was worried J would act up and this way my trainer could keep an eye on him as much as possible.
After J was settled in his stall, I went to the local tack store and bought a stallion lead rope; the lead rope that has a chain on the end of it. I knew stallion lead ropes can injure horses when used improperly. I had seen pictures of horses with scars on their noses because of people using the chain lead rope improperly. However, I was desperate. I didn’t want to use the stallion lead rope, but every horse person always hears of the groom or owner who gets hurt, or dies from injury by the stallion. I had seen a non-Saddlebred who had been gelded late in life literally lay down while being ridden because he didn’t want to work. I did not want that to happen to my horse. I knew the early years for J would be the most impressionable; I wanted him to learn that humans were in charge.
I went back to the stables, put the halter on, put the chain over his nose, and took him for a walk outside. By walk, I should really clarify things. He was not walking; it was a mixture between a walk and a trot, sort of a prance. He was snorting, calling to the ladies. He was excited! “Oh boy,” I thought, “I have my work cut out for me!” Despite how many times I said “Whooooaaaa,” I couldn’t get him to flat foot walk. Eventually, we made it across the gravel driveway to the grass.
To my surprise, he hardly even noticed he was surrounded by thick, green grass. I tried to get him to graze, but food was the last thing on his mind. He wanted to see the ladies. We stayed outside for about 20 minutes. I had hoped that after he called to the ladies, and they called back, he would settle down, and enjoy the special treat I was giving him. Afterall, I could only take him out to graze if I knew a mare was not going to be close by. I could envision a horror story happening if a mare was turned out in the nearby pasture, or being ridden in the outdoor arena.
However, he did not settle down. Eventually I put him back in his stall and put up a sign: “WARNING! STALLION! DO NOT PUT MARES NEXT TO THIS STALL!” I created a 2nd sign that said: “NO TREATS! I BITE.” I didn’t know if J was a biter, but I did not want to get a phone call from an irate parent saying, “Your horse bit my daughter!” Better to be safe than sorry.
Then, I put J’s “New to him” sheet on since the nights were getting chilly. There was no use getting a two year old a brand new sheet when, he will most-likely rip it to shreds. After J was all tucked in, I left the stables and went home. It was a long day, and I was looking forward to some relaxation.
At home, I got a phone call from my grandparents. Up until about a year ago, my grandparents had gone to almost all of my competitions. Papa and Grandma love horses and loved my National Show Horse. The only reason they stopped coming to competitions was because Grandma had a stroke. Grandma had been paralyzed on her entire left side, and had been in Physical Therapy just to be able to wiggle her fingers. At that time she could move her leg, but could not walk and was in a wheel chair. Unfortunately, when I was younger I didn’t appreciate their efforts. It wasn’t until it was too late that I realized how lucky I was to have such a strong support system. My grandparents would greet me after a class with a hug, a big smile, and congratulations, regardless if I got 1st place, or “the gate.” Towards the end, they even started to notice why I placed the way I placed; I was so proud of them.
So, being late, Grandma said, “Hello, I want to see your new horse tomorrow.” I panicked; I tried to talk Grandma out of it, I said “J just arrived, why don’t you see him in a few weeks?” I was hoping that after a few weeks, I would be able to train him enough to be calm for Grandma. Grandma said, “No, I am seeing him tomorrow regardless if you are there or not” and then hung up the phone.
That night, I didn’t sleep; all I could picture was my two year old stallion rearing up and crushing my grandma in her wheelchair. Fortunately, while I was tossing and turning I came up with a plan to try and convince my grandparents to see J in his stall; I figured it would be safest that way. At 7 AM, I rolled out of bed, ate breakfast, and went to the barn; Grandma and Papa were supposed to arrive at 9. I should have known though, Papa and Grandma are always early. So when I arrived at 8:15, they were already there, getting Grandma out of the car. I gave my grandparents a hug hello, and proceeded to try to encourage them into seeing J inside the barn. Unfortunately, Grandma didn’t like this idea. Grandma promptly said, “I don’t want to see him through bars. Bring him outside.” I reluctantly asked my grandparents to wait in the gravel parking lot, and went to J's stall.
I went to J’s stall and immediately noticed J's sheet was contorted on his body. In the middle of the night, he must have decided he didn’t want to wear it anymore, despite the 45 degree nights we were having. After looking at J’s hand me down sheet, I did not see any new tears. “Yay!” I thought, “This sheet may last him a few weeks.” I brushed J up a little bit, smoothed his mane and forelock, and got the shavings out of his tail. I pled with J “Please be a good boy. Grandma is fragile, please do not hurt her.”
I put the chain over J’s nose; now thrilled that I had the chain. Immediately upon leaving his stall, J started prancing and calling to the ladies. I was nervous. We got to the parking lot and, suddenly, he stopped. Grandma was still about 100 feet away, but he just looked at her. He stared at her for at least 30 seconds. I was bracing for him to spook at her wheel chair but instead, he lowered his head, and continued to follow. He walked slowly, carefully.
I had no idea what had happened! My stallion turned into this gentle gelding. I stopped J about five feet away, only to hear my Grandma say, “Bring him closer.” I brought him a couple feet closer, Grandma didn't like him being so far, so I relented. He was so close that if he reared, he would have crushed Grandma; I held my breath. But he didn’t do anything. He lowered his head even more so Grandma could pet him. He nickered at her. I was amazed at his transformation. He didn’t look for treats or try to bite her. I looked at J and said to myself, “It’s almost as if he knows!”
Just as soon as I thought that, I heard ambulance sirens in the distance. I told Grandma it was time to leave and she said, “Not yet.” I choked up on the lead rope and prayed the ambulance would remember to turn off the sirens as they got close to the barn, like they were supposed to. Well, of course, they forgot. But, I looked at J and he didn't move a muscle! He just stood there, with his head in Grandma’s lap, not moving. It was then that I though to myself, “It’s not almost as if he knows, he does know. He knows that Grandma is fragile and he needs to mind his manners.”
We stood there with his head in Grandma’s lap for 30 minutes. We just talked and pet J; J just stood there. He didn’t even swat at the flies. Then Grandma and Papa said they had to leave so I brought J back to his stall.
On the way back to his stall, he started prancing and calling to the ladies. It was at that moment I fell in love with the American Saddlebred.
But the horse that stole my heart was Rags. Anyone who has ever ridden horses (aside from pony rides) will understand when I say the relationship between yourself and a horse is a relationship like no other. I own a dog, and I've owned horses, and I can't really explain it, but it's different. A dog gives you undeniable love; if you don't see the dog for a while the dog will be extremely happy to see you. It is not the same with a horse. I would usually see Rags several times a week unless I was on vacation. The day I would come back from vacation, Rags would usually ignore me, upset that I left him for so long. However, as soon as I gave him a banana or an apple, we would become friends again. 
