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Tag Archives: horses

A Visit to Horse’n Around Rescue

08 Monday Aug 2016

Posted by ninagarden in Arizona, cowgirl, horse, horses, ranch, Tucson, Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

horses, ranch, Summer

In May, I went to Tucson, and my dad, my niece and I went on a day trip to Horse’n Around horse rescue in Hereford, Arizona. I saw some great horses here, and it is a truly beautiful location — right next to the border with Mexico. In the background of this picture below, you can see the fence. It’s that black line on the horizon. It looks like a train track.

It’s also on the photo behind this giant donkey in retirement from the Grand Canyon.

We were there about three hours and saw all 48 horses. They had some great horses and some sad stories to tell. Like this gorgeous guy below who broke his knee in a team roping competition.


You can’t tell now, but if you ride him about an hour he begins to favor it. He is in a mountain pasture where he has to climb around a little and they hope it rehabilitates him.

Here are two mares I wanted to adopt. The first photo is of horse I keep thinking about– Desert Rose, the appaloosa. The second photo below is a mare named Kaluha that I learned was already adopted this since my May visit — she will be a great horse for someone! Dad liked her because she reminded him of a horse he had a long time ago. He is feeding her in the picture below Rose.

They were from a seizure of more than 40 starving horses at an old dude ranch– so sad.

I may go back and ride Rose soon! She is stuck in my mind, and I keep thinking about her. I love her color and her markings. I love the idea of helping her out. She was so thin when they got her.  Now she has filled out and grown up. She looks like a cowgirl’s horse…

If you are looking to adopt a horse, please consider going to Horse’n Around Rescue Ranch. When you adopt a horse, you pay a fee (basically you buy the horse) and you get 10 hours of riding instruction with your new companion before you can take her/him home. When I brought my horse Bayito to San Diego, I learned that it isn’t very expensive to trailer a horse to Southern California so if you are looking, you might consider one from Horse’n Around.

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Happy Easter Weekend Photos

28 Monday Mar 2016

Posted by ninagarden in Australian shepherd, cabbage, California native plants, chickens, dog, horse, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

cows, Easter, flowers, horses

It was a fun Easter weekend with the kids, a happy dog, horses, calves & cows, chickens, Easter bunny, eggs and lots of flowers & veggies in the garden. Enjoy!

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Cotillion Cowgirl

06 Wednesday Jan 2016

Posted by ninagarden in Arizona, cowgirl, horse, ranch, Tucson, Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Agua Linda, farm, horses, ranch, Tucson

I inherited some of my Aunt’s photos a few months ago, and looking through them, I was inspired by this fact — my aunt, who was always glamorous and social, who wore beautiful clothes and surrounded herself with beautiful and glamorous things, was also, a cowgirl.

For the first time, as I looked through the numerous photos of her in ballgowns, costumes, tutus, pearls and neat 60s sheaths, I also saw her riding a horse. A horse!

She grew up on the Agua Linda farm south of Tucson and had ranch in her blood. The “farm” was more about feeding cattle than raising crops, and while my grandpa had sold the old ranch headquarters, he still had the Aros Ranch for a while. I never thought of my aunt as a ranch girl so when I found all the photos of her on horseback, I was surprised. I never saw her on a horse, or near one, for that matter.

But in this old plastic bag of photos that I collected from my brother’s dining room table after he retrieved the remains of her estate, I found a few hints of the cowgirl my aunt once was.

Most of the photos, of course, display her understated glamour — many show dinners with my grandma and grandpa, lady’s lunches and social gatherings.

As a stewardess for American Airlines in the 60s, she had her hair styled by Vidal Sassoon, wore her uniform with pride and lived, no doubt, the high flying life of an elite flight attendant jet-setting around the world. Just look at her expression! Don’t you want to know what she is thinking?

auntninaflightattend

Before she left home, she wore quite a few ball gowns. Here (see girl on right) decked in satin shoulder-length gloves, her hair golden and shimmering as any movie star, she posed for photos at parties I can only imagine.

auntninacotillion

But here she is on my Grandfather’s  horse Tom Thumb, Nov. 1958 in Prescott. The faded inscription on the back says something about “camp on Plum Creek” and “just before sold” is written below  in purple pen. I can’t even believe she’s wearing jeans and look at her belt buckle! (That saddle looks oddly familiar. I wonder if that’s the one I use today.)

cowgilrauntnina

Standing in her white satin cotillion gown, pearls at her neck and bow encircling her tiny waist, she looks pensive. I love how the  black tree enhances her white gown and flowers. The picture is inscribed Dec. 1963, and I wonder where she is heading after this photo shoot? Did she have to drive 60 miles to town or was she already at her destination? (I called my mother and she told me that my aunt was probably heading to the Tucson Symphony Cotillion.)

auntninacotillion2

In the photo below, she smiles at the camera while riding a “big red horse,” as I like to call them–where? I do not know but it looks like somewhere near Tucson. Tamarask and eucalyptus trees rise to the monsoonal clouds.

cowgirlnina

Then years later,  in her red slicker and equally red nail polish, she grips the reins on a winter day. I know that signet ring on her pinkie — I hope one of my nieces have it.

latercowgirlnina

In her 50s and 60s she moved away from Tucson to live with her husband on a homestead in a log cabin in Mule Creek, New Mexico. She had acreage, fought brush fires, and hung wreaths on all the gates along the highway at Christmas time. She seemed to love that life just as much as her Jr. League days. Whenever she went back to Tucson, she let you know how much she despised the traffic. She was content with her country life.

She said, “you go back to what you know.”

When she passed away, way too soon from breast cancer, my sister and I drove to New Mexico and cleaned out her closets. While she had adapted her wardrobe to her rural life, she still had many of her clothes from her old self: lace, satin, and many brocade shawls. The main thing that struck me was how many outfits she had hanging in her two walls of closets. Probably five hundred different outfits were neatly arranged on tiered hangers — each hanger held two or three different outfits: pants and a shirt with a matching shawl. She had more shoes than we knew what to do with–many of them mail ordered and still in plastic wrappers–unworn.

Something of the old cotillion girl hid there in her closet waiting for the next ranch potluck, or maybe, an invitation to a fancy gala in an exotic location.

We can only wonder what possessed her to keep all those clothes.

*********

Here I am as a baby in her arms. I am her namesake and I am proud to have been her niece.

 

meandauntnina

Here’s two other photos that I wanted to share–in the first, she’s in some kind of costume that she no doubt invented and she’s holding a cat ( also in costume) and the other is of her and her favorite dog. I’m not sure here it was taken –maybe along the banks of the Santa Cruz.

auntninaandcatdressup
autN&dog

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Babbitt Times Review

14 Friday Nov 2014

Posted by ninagarden in Arizona, cowboy, Flagstaff, high-desert, horse, horses, ranch, Uncategorized

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Tags

Flagstaff, horses

Thanks so much to The Babbitt Times Review for mentioning my blog in its latest issue! Stay tuned for some exciting news in the horse department!

IMG_3034.JPG

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Horse Christmas: Colt Sale Part 2

30 Wednesday Jul 2014

Posted by ninagarden in Arizona, auction, colts, cowboy, Flagstaff, horse, horses

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Arizona, aution, colts, Flagstaff, horses

2014-07-12 11.27.19

The auction started at 11 a.m. with a few speeches. And I was too distracted to take notes but I remember the ranch manager spoke and then his wife, who read a poem about appreciating your life and making the best of things. I think one of the owners spoke too and thanked everyone for coming to the event that they looked forward to all year.

The auctioneer was brought in from out-of-town. He explained he wasn’t one of those fast talking auctioneer. He was a bit more like Santa Claus sharing the wealth of this horse Christmas. He told a story about his old dog, who had died, and some wisdom he had acquired from his vet about good dogs and good horses making your life better, which brought me to tears because I thought of my dog who died the summer before.

I think the saying was, “He was a good dog, and you gave him a good life, but he made your life even better.”

And you could say the same about a good horse.

So with those unexpected heart-warming introductions, the auction began.

Bidding opened at $750 per horse. That was the minimum bid. The first filly was from a stallion named Proudgun. It was bay. I think it went for $750. This would have been a good family horse.

The horses kept coming — 31 in total: Sorrel filly #1, bay filly #2 and so on. Each colt wore a little number on its side and that’s how they were auctioned off. They were ordered by the sire –so for example, 1-5 were from Proudgun and 6-12 were from High Dollar Snazzy, etc.

2014-07-12 11.24.08

See the number?

The colts were corralled in a pen with its other half-sisters and brothers. One at a time, the cowboys would single out the colt with the next number and its mama, separate them from the herd, and push the pair through the holding pen into the makeshift corral offset by mere ropes, where we sat in the bleachers in front of them.

1-2-3-4-5 and so on. The nervous mare and her baby would enter and pace from one edge of the little semi-circle to the other. The owners and managers stood behind the horses and the auctioneer in front. When the bids were high enough, the managers would open the gate and let the mama and baby re-enter the waiting herd on the other side of the fence.

As the auction continued, the horses got more and more expensive, I’m assuming from the fame of the stallion. Up and up until around $5,000. They talked about a $6,000 sale last year that had gone to an owner in Mexico.

As the colors seemed to influence the price, the buckskins and palominos went for more than the pretty bays.

Palominos

Palominos

It is a gamble to buy a colt. How will it turn out, how do you know what color, what temperament, what traits will carry over from the stud?

That day I learned that the most desirable physical traits in a Quarter Horse are a big butt, “clean, upfront neck” and a horse that “sits up high on its legs.” It’s hard to describe what “sits high on its legs” means, but instantly recognizable when you look at a colt and compare it to another. Sitting up high is how a colt holds itself together, or maybe the length and strength of its legs. You would not look at a colt that sits up high and think “spindly.” You would think “athletic.”

Since I had a hard time imaging the colts grown up, I looked at the mares and picked my imaginary horse. A black mare, then another, caught my eye; then a shimmering buckskin like I’d never seen—as gold as it was silver, as silver as it was gold. It’s colt from Ikes Bar Drifter was a tawny gold grey – hard to predict from the three buckskin colts which one would end up like this beautiful mare, shimmering as it moved gracefully around the pen with its little horse at its side.

2014-07-12 11.55.23

It was a long hour-and-half for the kids and the heat increased as the sun moved overhead—we drank all our water and everyone was hungry. But the bidding increased and the prices went high and the excitement that started the sale did not dissipate as everyone wondered who would go to $6,000. It was hard to tell who was buying what, but someone from Kentucky (or named Kentucky) bought a few; my fashionable friend with the earrings-to-die-for bought herself a few; a girl with a peach bandana was a lucky owner of a beautiful bay and many more went to cowboys and cattlemen.

“We like to let our horses to learn to be horses,” the ranch owner explained, “so you don’t have to pick up your colt until next March. We over-winter them for you.” Only the deposit of $250 on sales up to $2,000 or $500 on sales over $2,000 was due that day, making it incredibly…tempting.

What if I got myself a black filly? $500 and I could pick it up next March. That would give me enough time to figure out a lot of things.

A lot of things. Maybe I could have a horse Christmas– Horse Christmas in July. Next July.

Maybe that’s what I’ll do.

Rainbow we saw that evening!

Rainbow we saw that evening!

 

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Hashknife Ranch Colt Sale — Part I

15 Tuesday Jul 2014

Posted by ninagarden in Arizona, auction, BBQ, colts, cowboy, Flagstaff, Grand Canyon, high-desert, horses, ranch

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

auction, colts, Flagstaff, horses, ranch

My sister and I planned for the last year. We would go to the Hashknife Ranch Colt Sale in Northern Arizona in mid-July.  And last weekend we did it! Since my daughter and I started horseback riding together a year-and-a-half ago,  I think about horses about 20 percent of the time. You can call this a mid-life obsession, I guess, crisis seems too harsh a word. The Hashknife Ranch Colt sale has given me more to think about.

The sale is a yearly event that the ranch owners treat like a holiday. The mood was one of excitement from the guests and the sellers who were going to make some cash that day. Little children helped the Christmas-like atmosphere. Who can’t resist pens full of adorable colts and fillies milling around on spindly little (and some not so little) legs?

We got there early because I couldn’t believe it started at 11 a.m. Nothing on a ranch starts that late in the morning.  We parked in a lot full of trucks and waiting trailers as if the owners planned to haul away a string of horses.

But backing up, the Babbitt ranches encompass some of the prettiest country I know. Last year when we took the train to the Grand Canyon, I fell in love with the sweeping yellow grassed mesas and rolling hills of the Northern Arizona ranchlands. Driving from Flag around the North side of the San Francisco Peaks, you drop in elevation from fir trees to a high prairie of dried grass. The painted desert sits off in the distance. The sky was blue and huge and white puffy clouds floated across it as picturesque as it was cliché and it was like stepping right into a postcard of a ranch.

2014-07-12 12.48.42

Anyway, my enthusiasm for this ranchland has continued and we can’t help thinking our father and grandfather and great-grandfather picked the wrong place to have a ranch in the Sonoran desert. But don’t get angry at me–I love that place too, I just haven’t been there for a while. And I seem to like things colder as I get older. And Kale. (I like kale, which seems almost unnatural or maybe too natural, but I digress.)

We walked up to the barns and tack rooms passing the tarp-covered picnic areas and entered a pen where some risers had been set up in a semi-circle around a corner of the corral. This is where the horses would be auctioned off.

A small herd of mares and babies stood in the next pen and we couldn’t stop from rushing in there to see them, even though we weren’t really shoppers, we were lookers, but hopeful one day, we could be shopping here too.

My girls smiled huge smiles as they watched the fuzzy babies stamping around, moving as a group, shuffling as the lookers like us, as well as the seasoned professionals, scoped them out.

“They move in  a herd!” My ten-year old exclaimed. Okay, that is sad. She has only seen horses in an arena or in a stall. She has never seen a horse on the range. “Why are they doing that?” she asked, “Why?”

Lesson one: horses are herd animals.

Wow. I had no idea she did not know this.

So we try to explain, suggest she read a book on horsemanship or the psychology of the equine species.

My sister recounts horses she’s owned: Holy Smokes, Socks, Shu-ga (Sugar).   Every horse I “owned” was really my sister’s–Sassy, Kathleen and another one whose name was changed to Chapalene. I never really owned them, they were just assigned to me. Every since I was a little girl I wanted to wake up and find a horse in my yard. Not some ratty bike. I tell my husband this every Christmas. That is why he was very afraid when I went to the Hashknife Colt Sale.

Anyway, we went to learn something and the frist thing we learned (or my daughter learned) was horses run in herds. Then she learned you don’t wear a dippy Disney Channel fedora from Target to a cowboy horse auction.

She got harassed by the old cowboy sitting behind us for that. Well, what do you expect?

2014-07-12 09.59.31

The wrong hat.

Speaking of fashion: my sister and I realized we need very long hair that we can braid.  One long silver or blonde braid down your back will do. Then you need to wear lots of turquoise jewelry — huge rectangular blocks of turquoise dangling from your ears. Big sunglasses. If you are in really fancy Western dress, you can wear a tiered broomstick skirt in shades of blue to match your turquoise top and accessories. Or you wear your Wranglers and your braid and your round toed boots and a straw hat. We notice that kind of stuff and talk about it. We can’t help it. Next time we go, we will be fancy. This time, I was basic and in tennis shoes because my boots are too pointy.

This time, we were taking it all in.

And all this was before they even sold one colt!

2014-07-12 10.01.58

My sister and the girls.

 

 

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