Buddy's Story

A connection you only find once in a lifetime...

After going through the parade of lesson horses, both Marie (my barn owner/trainer) and I seemed to bore with my lessons. I had simply run out of lazy, highly-schooled, anticipatory, patient lesson horses to ride. That's when Marie again changed my life. With the simple question "Are you interested in riding green horses?" Nevada Star, AKA Buddy, came bolting, galloping, and snorting into my life. It was spring of 2007, and the warming air had started to thaw the mud lots, making a lovely concoction of what we like to call "poop soup." He was covered in it. A mane for days, projected to possibly derive from Andalusian ancestry. The biggest head I had ever seen, longer than my entire head and torso together.

15.3 hands.

1300lbs.

100% Mustang.

He had been collected by the BLM from the Black Rock HMA in Nevada during an annual round-up around the age of 7 months, right after being weaned. He was fluffy, scrawny, and awkward. He was then adopted by a friend of Marie's in a local auction in the midwest. They did their best to tame him, break him, and try to keep him sane. Then he grew. He was rideable, but "flighty" doesn't begin to describe it. Hundreds of years of Mustang genetics had made him a Boeing 747 with legs whenever the grass moved, or a bug flew past, or a truck started. They trail rode him, which he seemed to really enjoy. There was no doubting he was made for the outdoors. They started taking him to Marie's for training and lessons to see what kind of potential they could tap into. He was terrified of the indoor arena and the washrack, and everything sent him into flight. They tried doing small schooling shows with him once he was"broke" but from the stories I hear from his previous owner and her fellow 4H friends, when working with Buddy your ass would spend more time on the ground then in the saddle. Finally, his owners decided he was too much to handle. He was 8 years old and still pulling a Seabiscuit at the sight of the barn dog. Marie, having a soft spot for his big ugly head in reminiscence of her first horse Nicki, bought him from them as a "work in progress." At first, Marie was the only one to ride him, with good reason. As he became more accustom to his surroundings, he became more accessible for more advanced students, but only those who worked for Marie. He was schooled during a few group lessons, but wasn't allowed to canter at the same time or even in the same direction as the other horses in the arena for fear of starting an all out stampede or Mustang gymnastics routine. He was leased, and taken on off-property trail rides, which he seemed to excel at. With some sort of cross genetics of draft horse evident in his huge ugly head and dinner-plate feet, he was ideal for endurance and rough terrain riding. But had a grace and charisma about him that made him captivating to watch. For a few months, Buddy was forgotten accept for the occasional brave and skilled stablehand who was in the mood for a challenge. His canter was unbalanced, frantic, and fast, yet BEAUTIFUL. I called it riding a "clumsy cloud." A stablehand tried him out during a group lesson, just to see what he was like. Mid-canter, he somersaulted, flipping end over end, tossing her into the sand. She got back on him that day, but not again. Three months passed and he was turned out to the gelding pen to revert back to his prehistoric ways, no one ready or brave enough to even try.

"Are you interested in riding green horses?"

I was instructed to get to know him before I even thought about saddling him. I would take him out of the pen, chain over his nose, groom him, let him graze, let him smell me, get used to my body language. I studied him. I was completely entranced. He was nervous, pushy, and apathetic to humans (meaning he didn't care who I was, as long as he got food and I wasn't going to hurt him), but he was far from cold. He was interested in everything that went on around him. He was curious and attentive and would watch me walk back and forth from stall as I'd collect brushes and tack. He would make eye contact with me and want to explore everything that entered the stall. After 3 weeks of bonding, we decided it was time for me to ride him. Marie told me to NOT GET ON HIS BACK WITHOUT HER IN THE ARENA. Not to make me nervous or anything...

These were the first pictures ever taken of Buddy and I
from the first time I ever haltered him and handled him.

By the end of summer '07 I began leasing Buddy, and we've been Partners in Crime ever since. I've ridden out some pretty NASTY spooks, but never have I fallen off, and never have either of us gotten hurt. A few months after I started working with him exclusively and full time, the girl who was somersaulted off of him asked if I wouldn't mind if she got back on him, just to change her opinion of him and subside her fear. She asked me what I had done to him because "it was like riding a 20 year old lesson horse." He was calm, listening, and respectful. I think he's learned he has a friend and a confidante in me. Marie took him off the property for a trail ride that September and with a huge grin on her face, told me she had the "BEST ride!" She said he's come 4-5 years in his temperament in the few months I had been working with him. He had slowly begun to imprint himself on my life. With each ride he became better and better. Some nights I would come out to the barn just to spend time with him, not always to ride. As much as I don't like to humanize horse feelings, I believe that Buddy and I had become best friends. Just for a change of pace, I 'round-penned' him one afternoon, just to see how he viewed me: apathetically, as a source of food, as simply a distraction, or as a leader and source of comfort. After a half of a lap trying to drive him around in round pen, he stopped, lowered his head, and came to me. I walked slowly around the pen, turning to my left and taking steps backwards. He followed my every foot fall.

The first picture taken of me riding Buddy

When I am on the property, I will cluck at him and call his name, and his ears will perk up and he'll come over to the edge of the pen to greet me. From then on, where ever I go on the property, if he hears me, he watches me. He's been known to leave his group of friends and fresh hay bales and trot over to the opposite end of the pen to just watch me put out hay or walk out to a pen. I would do anything for this horse, and I think he knows that. Several people at the barn have told me "Its good to see Buddy has someone. He's the kind of horse that just needs a 'buddy'." My agreement with him is that we will always listen to each other. I understand some of the things I ask him to do are difficult, but I will not push him past where he can handle it. In return for his hard work, he is rewarded handsomely. I always tell people "Buddy is like a foreign culture. When you enter the household as a guest, you must bring a gift, or the head of the household will be insulted. It is just customary." All it takes with Buddy is a little horse cookie when you first plant your butt in that saddle, and he will work his butt off for you for as long as you ask. We call it "the keys to the Mustang... you have to put them in the ignition to get it started..." His life is that simple, and for that I envy and appreciate him.

In the summer of '08 we introduced a whole new world of riding to both Buddy and I-- dressage. He and I both became acquainted with Marie's Kiefer dressage saddle, as well as a whole new style of riding. Everytime we'd walk through the barn and out to the arena, all I would hear were comments following us "He looks awesome." "I can't believe that's the same horse." "He's come a long way!" He is a stunning example of a dressage horse and is ready to take the next step in becoming a horse with a job. I refrain from using the word "purpose" because his purpose is his own. He doesn't exist simply to make me happy, and he didn't come into my life meaning to change it. He just is who he is with no apologies or attempts at pretending he's something he's not. Every challenge I throw at him he impresses me, without any realization of how far he surpasses my expectations. His purpose is to be a horse, and everything we ask of him on top of that is extraordinary. Being in his life is a privilege that I respect and hold sacred. When I had to leave him in August of '0 8 for the first time in 3 years because I was switching schools, I had never felt a more tearing, gripping, or painful feeling. I could no longer ride him, see him, touch him, spend time with him. All of my other friends I could contact via internet or phone. From Buddy, I was completely cut off. I am struggling with this every day while I am in Carbondale, and I count the days until I get to see him again.

But our story doesn't end there...

Every time I would come north from Carbondale to visit, whether it be for the weekend or a holiday, I would make the hour drive to Kirkland from my parents house just to see Buddy. I had to pay $12 every single time I rode him, so even if I was just around for a few days, I would clean some stalls and scrape together change to be able to spend time with him. Thanksgiving of 2008, I had an IHSA Stock Show with the SIUC Equestrian team, and I changed into breeches in the car and had my parents drop me off at Marie's barn on their way through Kirkland because I had to see him. I'd find out a way home later, I just had to see him. That Christmas of 2008, I volunteered to muck 27 stalls and do chores at 5:30am on Christmas day just so I could afford to ride Buddy while I was home. All that work earned me two rides on him in the month I was home. I'd still drive the hour just to groom him and bring him an apple even if I couldn't afford to ride him that day.

In August of 2009, Meredith, Lauren, and I planned a big 'ole 3-barn hop visit day to see each other's barns in the greater Chicagoland area. Our first stop was seeing Buddy. Mere had never met him and Lauren has only seen me ride him once when I was still green and stupid and awkward (much like Buddy was at the time). After watching me ride him, they each scandalously took turns riding their first Mustang. He blossomed before my eyes under each of their capable hands and experienced guidance. I beamed with pride as both of them couldn't help but grin as they floated around the arena on him, discovering the buried treasure I knew was there all along, that incredible canter. Both later agreed that on days when they are having bad days on their fancy TB and Sporthorses, Buddy is the horse they'd want to get on to remember how fun horseback riding really is. He has that effect on people. We continued our journey onto Mere's barn, lavishing Willie with the attention a prince like he deserves. Then on to Lauren's barn as the storm clouds began to roll in. Stryker was new to Northern Illinois and Tower Hill but the lifestyle really seemed to suit him. As Lauren was finishing up riding, the clouds broke and it began to pour down rain. We went running for the barn, hiding cameras up our shirts and covering Stryker's tack as best we could. We stood in the smaller barn waiting for the rain to stop while Lauren untacked and groomed Stryker. Watching her meticulously inspect and groom him all the while talking softly to him, all the sudden something washed over me and I started bawling. I couldn't stop myself. Meredith turned to me, somehow sensing exactly what was wrong and just hugged me quietly as I cried. Lauren dropped her brushes and came over to surround us both. I started to choke out "Its just never going to happen for me and Buddy. Its just not meant to be. Marie's going to sell him and he's going to slip through the cracks and I'll never see him again. I'm never going to have this life..." Mere and Lauren patted my back and listen to my meltdown, encouraging me to not give up and keep begging Marie to lower her price or cut me a deal. He is my soulmate and we'd be together somehow.
A month later, nothing short of a miracle happened. After the seed was planted I was DETERMINED to buy Buddy come hell or high water (or homelessness). Finances started popping up from places I didn't know existed (thank you Grandpa!) and the kindness and selfless generosity of Mere and her incredible fiancee (now husband) knows no bounds. Without their help and guidance, Buddy would've have indeed slipped through the cracks. The orchestration of "Operation: Buddy the So Ill Horse" could not have been possible without Mere, Bryan, and Lauren, who took time off work to drive out to Marie's and oversee him be put on that trailer to me. He arrived 2 days before Thanksgiving, 2009 (shhh my parents don't know that... it took me 5 months to summon the courage to tell them I owned him). It was 10:30pm, and the weather coming from Northern Illinois was horrendous. It was cold and quiet as the trailer pulled up to Gina Hill's barn in Carbondale, all of us holding our breath in excitement as we listened for the crunch of truck tires on the gravel coming up the hill. As I walked up to the side of the stock trailer, I could see his eyes peeking through the slats. There was no worry in his eyes, no panic, no fear, just wonderment. He unloaded quietly, his giant frame unfurling from the trailer. Gina and her husband Jeff's mouths dropped open. "That's a MUSTANG?! I thought they were supposed to be tiny!" Gina exclaimed. She put her hand over her mouth as she inspected him and kept turning to Jeff saying "My God Jeff, isn't he beautiful?" I walked him into the courtyard for his first night in his new home. But it wasn't just his new home, it was his forever home, in my life, and in my heart.

Buddy the So Ill Horse

Since then, Buddy continues to absolutely blow me away with his endless talent. We've tackled roping, jumping, barrels, poles, Hunter/jumper work, even lots and lots of bareback riding in an open field in just a halter, something NO ONE ever thought was possible on such a "crazy, flighty, insane" horse. He's even been a therapeutic riding horse for Gina's school kids. A mix of kindergarten through 5th graders came to Gina's for the end of the school year outing to learn about farm animals, their collective disabilities ranging from blindness, to autism, to cerebral palsy, etc. Not only did he allow for these itty bitties to bounce up and down on his back and squirm their little legs all over him, but he'd graciously allow them to give him kisses on his giant roman nose and gently take treats from their delicate fingers. He had a softness to him I'd never seen. And 10 seconds after he'd gently nibble a treat from a 5 year olds hand, he'd nearly take my finger off trying to get a treat from me.

I've also since spilled the beans to my parents about my 4-legged motherhood responsibilities and I was blown away by their enthusiasm and encouragement. My mother, who is terrified of horses and the reason I was forbidden to ride until I turned 18, volunteers to lead him around, groom him, style his hair for the show they came to, and feed him c arrots, which is a HUGE deal for her. She asked me what I'm going to do with Buddy once he's retired from being a riding horse. I told her I hope to have a little land by then so he can grow old fat and happy in my backyard. She turned to my dad and said quietly "We need to retire on a farmette so we can spend more time with this big guy.." As she led him around the pasture for the last time on their last visit to Carbondale, I overheard my mom talking softly to Buddy saying "You're not going anywhere. You're safe now. We've got you and we love you." They ask me about their "biggest grandkid" every time we speak on the phone.

I've had so many moments in the few years I've know this horse that have humbled me. And even if its just spending 20 minutes in the middle of the day watching him eat beet pulp or when its galloping through an open field with him, I actively realize every single day how incredibly lucky I am to have him in my life. This is a connection you only find once in a lifetime and I can't believe this horse chose me. I want him to be the horse my kids learn to ride on, and I will do everything in my power to ensure he has a happy healthy life and what is best for him is ALWAYS my first priority. And the day he leaves this earth for whatever lies beyond for him in that huge open field in the sky, they better dig a hole in the ground next to his body, because I don't know that I will survive losing this incredible horse.

A Pledge:

I will not take my love away
When praises cease and seasons change
while the whole world turns the other way
I will not take my love away
I will not leave you all alone
When striving leads you far from home
And there's no yield for what you've sown
I will not leave you all alone
I will give you what you need
In plenty or in poverty
Forever, always, look to me
And I will give you what you need

~lyrics by Matt Wertz~