My horse Jack was a wonderful fella. He didn't start out that way - he was young and a big outa control. My first horse Frosty was a good starter horse, but she was old and kinda ugly - not good for showing, but good for a young girl to get her spurs wet on. But after I had her a year or so, the people who sold her to us offered to sell us a 3 year old gelding and take Frosty back. I was around 13 or so.
Wayne Rodgers, Sally's dad was my guru for all things quarter horse. He looked over Jack's papers. His full name was Poco Hijack - with lines stemming back to Poco Bueno, a pretty famous stud horse back in the day. And Jack horses were just starting to get popular - can't remember that breed line but they all had the name Jack.
He wasn't perfect - but he was beautiful to me! He came from Yale, Iowa. He was a sorrel with straight confirmation (legs) and a pretty head with a white stripe down his nose. His mane and tail were darker and he had a couple white stockings.
First thing, we decided he needed to go to Bondurant (back before it was a DM suburb) for training. Les Walker, the trainer, took the rear out of him. He had a habit of rearing when being ridden. But he couldn't slow down his naturally fast running motion - which was my nemesis during all my years showing him. Judges back then wanted a horse who had a nice rocking horse gait, and Jack just didn't have that.
What he did end up with was a wonderful personality - patient and loving! In fact even though he had no, um balls, he fell in love with my friend Sal's horse Vissy. He'd nicker for her whenever they were separated. He loved me too. I'd drive out to the barn where we kept him (in behind HyVee in Atlantic on the Guttenfelder farm) and feed him each night. A quarter can of oats and a flake of hay. Sometimes I'd take an apple or a carrot. Having a horse taught me a great deal about responsibility. When I wasn't able to feed him, I had to arrange for his care.
When I went out to ride, or clean his stall, I'd hook him up to the big leather straps we had in the breezeway and curry him till he shined. He enjoyed that. Plus I'd spray him with flyspray and put that stick stuff around his eyes so they'd leave them alone too. Clean out his hooves with a hoof pick. Sometimes I'd just turn him out in the grassy area we had so he could graze, and lay upon his back with my head on his butt daydreaming or feeling sorry for myself - like a kid with her own horse could really do that...
We had lots of places to ride. Our barn had an indoor arena filled with sand for winter riding. We had an outdoor arena for practice showing. There was a nice dirt road we could ride down by there or we could ride in the fields nearby too - a good workout. I we wanted to go far we could go on gravel or take pavement and cross the highway. I didn't like going around traffic though.
Being in Atlantic recently made me think of ol' Jack. He liked to eat ice cubes and even ate some french fries at a horse show once. We'd slide ride off his butt and he didn't kick, or walk under his belly. What a sweetie. I've been blessed by wonderful animals all throughout my life - hope to see them in the afterlife again...all dogs (and horses) go to heaven. I'm not sure Bucko the cat is there though - he was mean!
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