I've had a lot of horses go trotting through my life - mostly thoroughbreds; the racing variety. When I left the racetrack after working as a groom for ten years, even though my track buddies told me, "Once a race-tracker; always a race-tracker", I knew I'd never return, other than to occasionally bet on them. And as the years went by, I thought for sure I'd never have another horse in my life. However, my daughter Paula when she was 14 years old, fell in love with a horse named Kelly when she was working during the summer at a dude ranch in Lantzville, BC. What she saw in that nickle-bred, knocked-kneed, cow-hocked, half-broken down old nag, I'll never know. And then again, yes I would. Many a horse that couldn't run if it's life depended on it, once I started working with it and its disposition was lovable; the horse always became one of my best buddies.
The man who owned the Kelly told Paula she could buy it for $1,000.00. She was of course very excited because she'd saved up $400.00 (I think it was) and I'd told her, I'd pay the difference. However, when I checked out Kelly, I could tell there was going to be some problems with the horse (vet bills can add up real fast). Although Kelly was a nice enough horse, gentle and good natured and Paula was able to ride him just fine, his gait was bad; I could see fresh sores on his back legs where his hooves had clipped them. Also, his coat was dull and he didn't have that real bright eye; that sparkly glint, intelligent look, true grit or spirit I always looked for in a horse or for that matter, any type of animal. My wife and Paula really wanted the horse but being an old race-tracker, I just couldn't see spending that amount of money for the horse. I figured the guy selling the horse was trying to take advantage of my daughter and as much as I didn't want to hurt her feelings, I had to said "No."
Well, when I said that, her bright smile suddenly changed to tears; and oh boy how they did flow, if she had kept crying for 40 days and 40 nights, it would have been time to build another Ark. And her mother was upset with me too, which didn't help the situation either. The drive back home to our small acreage was pretty gloomy to say the least.
Realizing Paula was very determined to have a horse, which I didn't mind the idea, I decided to go horse-shopping. I looked at several horses over the next few weeks before I went to check out a gelding a young woman was selling - told me she didn't have the time for it any more. The horse was on the older side, about 20 years of age but I could see that it was sound and the look in its eye was what I was looking for. When she rode the horse around the corral, I could see that it had been very well trained; it would turn in the direction the rider wanted by simply touching its neck with the reins and when running, stopped immediately on command. As I ran my hand over the horse's body and checked out his legs, even lifting them one by one, I could tell that it hadn't been abused and had a good disposition; the horse would let a person do almost anything. The last thing I wanted was for Paula to get kicked or bucked off; it was important to me that the horse was safe to work with and ride. And, what really sold me on the horse was when the young woman let me take him for a ride because I can't ride for shit and when I rode him and he did everything I asked, I knew he was the one; he was a good choice and even $200.00 less than Kelly.
However, Paula was still upset and mad at me when she found out I'd bought another horse, rather than her Kelly. But all that soon changed because she fell in love with that horse, just like I knew she would.
I believe when we bought the horse, it's name was Cheyenne but Paula changed it to Tequila Sunrise. (Good thing changing a horse's name isn't like changing the name on a boat, it's considered bad luck.) I don't know how she came up with his name, perhaps it was because we had a big Saint Bernard named Whiskey or because the horse was full of spirit. Besides being a gelding, Tequila was part quarter horse/Clydesdale but leaned more towards the quarter horse side. His coat was the colour of an evening sunrise with white patches (one looked like the map of Canada) and he had four white stockings, a white blaze on his forehead and white tail and mane - he was a beautiful and vibrant animal.
Since we only had two acres; really just a barn and a very small corral for the horse, Paula would ride him to a neighbour's place each morning, where Tequila had 10 acres to roam and graze on fresh grass. She told me she would fall asleep on his back, her head resting in his thick mane until he shook his head after a few minutes, as if to tell her it was time to go to school. The horse and the girl became one.
Paula used to race Tequila against her friend's horses and even though they were more svelte, he was always in the lead. I guess without my knowing it at the time, we'd bought a racehorse - not that I'd bet on him if he was in a real race but he was a good runner just the same. I remember once he got away; I think the gate was left open. He was heading up the road at a pretty good clip. Yee-Haw - Just like a cowboy, I grabbed a rope, saddled up my motorcycle and went in hot pursuit. I can still recall the way he was looking at me when I pulled up alongside and yelled, "Whoa!" I guess he thought he'd gotten away, was going to join up with a herd of wild mustangs until I pulled up. But he was good about it, he just stopped running, let me tie the rope to his halter and then lead him back home behind my motorcycle.
Another good friend Tequila had was a little cat Paula brought home one day. She named it Ti Me (Latin for Little Me) and it lived out in the barn too. At night, the cat was often seen curled up on the horse, asleep in its mane. Those were good times as I recall and for me, there's just something very special about animals and especially a horse. They're so big; they're so powerful and yet they can be so gentle and loyal - it's great to have at least one pass through your life because they can be a very good friend and that's what Paula and her Tequila Sunrise were - the best of friends.
This short tale is just for you Paula - thanks for the memories - love you a lot - dad xoxoxox
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