I realized today that I hadn't ridden Dawn since the kids came up at Thanksgiving. Partly that is because Dash is my first love so I usually ride her just because I enjoy her so much. Partly it is because Dawn is a pig and likes to roll in mud so it's faster to tack Dash up because I don't have to do so much cleaning. And partly it's because Dawn occasionally has attitude and most of the time I don't want to deal with attitude, although truth be told she seems to have outgrown most of it anyway.
Dawn usually goes on the tough rides, the posse rides, and the posse training ride, however, and this weekend we are having a mock search. So I need to ride her because she usually settles down if she's ridden three days in a row. So that's my goal for this week, to ride Dawn every day.
So I went out about 3:30 and put the other two away and led Dawn to the tack room. She wasn't as filthy as she was right after the last rain so it didn't take that long to brush off the mud and put on a saddle. I took her into the round pen to settle her down and she immediately began tearing around, which is what she normally does when I first bring her into the round pen.
I let her run, then started controlling her. In about five minutes I was able to bring her down to a trot and walk on command, then back up to a more restrained canter. Many reversals of direction were done to further engage the "thinking side of her brain" as the horse whisperers call it. Finally I slipped on a bridle and got on her and rode her a bit at the walk and trot but only in the round pen.
She did fine. She's really wonderfully responsive, even more so than Dash, and I started working her on collection a little bit. I'm planning to start taking some dressage lessons soon and I'm debating about using a lesson horse or maybe trying to do it on Dawn. But she's a long way from collecting on command so I'll probably take the lessons on the trainer's horse and try to teach Dawn some of it on my own time once I start getting the hang of some of it.
But it was good to get back on her again. And I need to be sure, now that tax season has arrived, to give Dawn her turn in the rotation and not just ride Dash all the time because it's quicker. The more Dawn is ridden, the better she gets. I say all the time that she's actually the better horse. But Dash is the one I love, so unfortunately for second-born Dawn, she's still second choice for my pleasant evening rides.
Until the going gets tough. Then she's #1.
I think sometimes about selling her to someone for whom SHE will be #1 all the time, but I enjoy having both of my girls, and their mother, and I know it would be hard on both me and the horses to separate them, so as long as I can still scrape up the money to feed them all, I will keep her.
And I'll be back on her every day this week, so when it's time for the mock search this Sunday I will simply load her up and let her do her job, instead of taking Dash again.
And that's the latest from the Ranch.
Riding 29 year old Sandy in 1997
Showing posts with label posse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label posse. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
An unusual tax deduction
I just realized it has been 10 days since my last blog post. It's amazing how quickly life sucks the time right off the clock, leaving me little to pursue what I love -- riding and writing about horses.
Very few people can make a living with their horses, and unfortunately I'm not one of them. Not everyone is as lucky as Jerry and Ann Moss, owners of the beautiful race mare, Zenyatta, who earned them millions of dollars on the track and is now two months from delivering a valuable foal that may follow in Lady Z's footsteps. (I wonder if they'd like to adopt me?)
No, for most of us, our horses do not provide cash inflow to put on our tax returns; they require cash outflow that does not USUALLY get deducted on our tax returns. Unless you're a mounted posse member.
I should know. The Suburban Cowgirl is an accountant and tax preparer and a member of a posse.
This will be an interesting tax return for me this year. I joined the Gila County Sheriff's Mounted Posse the end of 2010 and spent a lot of time and money in 2011 taking classes, going to training events, and keeping my posse horses in condition in case we were called out to a search. And, of course, actually spending three days pushing through manzanita on a search last September.
I made the decision to keep Dawn as a posse horse instead of trying to sell her, as I had been planning to do. That decision turned her into a tax deduction for me.
There are certain requirements for me to be able to deduct Dawn's expenses on my Schedule A as a charity donation. First, the work I did with the horse has to be on behalf of a 501c3 organization, which the Gila County Sheriff's department is. Second, I need to get a letter of acknowledgment from that organization stating what services I provided. With those two conditions met, I can write off the expenses of maintaining and caring for my posse horse, in addition to unreimbursed expenses driving to training or rescue events and costs of first aid courses, rescue gear and first aid gear, and other expenses incurred in this pursuit.
Generally, the basic care and maintenance of a horse is going to be in the range of $1500 a year (if you have a place to keep it -- add $100 a month if it's boarded out). That will become part of my Itemized deductions, so if my mortgage interest and property taxes are high enough it will put me over the Standard deduction.
This isn't quite the windfall it looks like. My other itemized deductions are about $5000, so normally I would take the Standard Deduction instead. With my standard deduction being $5800 this year, the posse deduction will put me over that but will yield a reduction in taxable income of only $700 ($5000+1500-5800). In the 15% tax bracket, that will save me a whopping $105 in taxes, a far cry from the $1500 I will have spent to get that refund.
But that $105 will buy ... is it 5 or 10 bales of hay? Depends if I buy them this month or the middle of next summer ... IF the price of hay goes back down. Either way, it's better than paying the $1500 and NOT getting 5 or 10 bales of hay in return.
Even if I doubled the deduction to $3000 with trailer repairs and other things, that only yields another $225 in tax relief.
So the deduction helps, but that's not the reason I participate in the posse; I would do it even if it wasn't deductible. I am compelled to try to help people, and using my horses to help others helps mitigate the guilt of enjoying them. (It just seems so unfair that I have this wonderful life and others don't.)
I will write off Dawn's expenses, and save the $100 or 200 in taxes, and not feel guilty about that at all. Having a team of people willing to drop what they are doing, load up horses and drive into the wilderness to find a lost child, or rescue an injured hiker, or find an overdue hunter who might have had a heart attack is important to the community and a tremendous resource for the sheriff's department. If there were no search and rescue volunteers, the sheriff's department would have to send paid deputies to do this work, at taxpayer expense. (Can you spell O-V-E-R-T-I-M-E?)
One deputy standing in for me for just one of the days I searched last year would cost the public far more than the little bit of tax relief I get.
It's probably one of the most lucrative "bang for the buck" any tax deduction yields to this country.
I shall write off Dawn's expenses as a patriotic duty ...
... in October. I'll be too busy doing other people's taxes to do my own in April so I'll be filing an extension again.
And that's the latest from the Ranch.
Very few people can make a living with their horses, and unfortunately I'm not one of them. Not everyone is as lucky as Jerry and Ann Moss, owners of the beautiful race mare, Zenyatta, who earned them millions of dollars on the track and is now two months from delivering a valuable foal that may follow in Lady Z's footsteps. (I wonder if they'd like to adopt me?)
No, for most of us, our horses do not provide cash inflow to put on our tax returns; they require cash outflow that does not USUALLY get deducted on our tax returns. Unless you're a mounted posse member.
I should know. The Suburban Cowgirl is an accountant and tax preparer and a member of a posse.
This will be an interesting tax return for me this year. I joined the Gila County Sheriff's Mounted Posse the end of 2010 and spent a lot of time and money in 2011 taking classes, going to training events, and keeping my posse horses in condition in case we were called out to a search. And, of course, actually spending three days pushing through manzanita on a search last September.
I made the decision to keep Dawn as a posse horse instead of trying to sell her, as I had been planning to do. That decision turned her into a tax deduction for me.
There are certain requirements for me to be able to deduct Dawn's expenses on my Schedule A as a charity donation. First, the work I did with the horse has to be on behalf of a 501c3 organization, which the Gila County Sheriff's department is. Second, I need to get a letter of acknowledgment from that organization stating what services I provided. With those two conditions met, I can write off the expenses of maintaining and caring for my posse horse, in addition to unreimbursed expenses driving to training or rescue events and costs of first aid courses, rescue gear and first aid gear, and other expenses incurred in this pursuit.
Generally, the basic care and maintenance of a horse is going to be in the range of $1500 a year (if you have a place to keep it -- add $100 a month if it's boarded out). That will become part of my Itemized deductions, so if my mortgage interest and property taxes are high enough it will put me over the Standard deduction.
This isn't quite the windfall it looks like. My other itemized deductions are about $5000, so normally I would take the Standard Deduction instead. With my standard deduction being $5800 this year, the posse deduction will put me over that but will yield a reduction in taxable income of only $700 ($5000+1500-5800). In the 15% tax bracket, that will save me a whopping $105 in taxes, a far cry from the $1500 I will have spent to get that refund.
But that $105 will buy ... is it 5 or 10 bales of hay? Depends if I buy them this month or the middle of next summer ... IF the price of hay goes back down. Either way, it's better than paying the $1500 and NOT getting 5 or 10 bales of hay in return.
Even if I doubled the deduction to $3000 with trailer repairs and other things, that only yields another $225 in tax relief.
So the deduction helps, but that's not the reason I participate in the posse; I would do it even if it wasn't deductible. I am compelled to try to help people, and using my horses to help others helps mitigate the guilt of enjoying them. (It just seems so unfair that I have this wonderful life and others don't.)
I will write off Dawn's expenses, and save the $100 or 200 in taxes, and not feel guilty about that at all. Having a team of people willing to drop what they are doing, load up horses and drive into the wilderness to find a lost child, or rescue an injured hiker, or find an overdue hunter who might have had a heart attack is important to the community and a tremendous resource for the sheriff's department. If there were no search and rescue volunteers, the sheriff's department would have to send paid deputies to do this work, at taxpayer expense. (Can you spell O-V-E-R-T-I-M-E?)
One deputy standing in for me for just one of the days I searched last year would cost the public far more than the little bit of tax relief I get.
It's probably one of the most lucrative "bang for the buck" any tax deduction yields to this country.
I shall write off Dawn's expenses as a patriotic duty ...
... in October. I'll be too busy doing other people's taxes to do my own in April so I'll be filing an extension again.
And that's the latest from the Ranch.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Flash, bang, boom!
Took the mares to a desensitization training tonight with the posse. Tonight's spooky objects were road flares, fireworks, and a patrol car with lights and siren going. I left Dawn tied to the trailer where she could observe from afar and took Dash into the arena. Led her by the flares first and she was a lot more reactive than I thought she would be. Normally she settles down quickly but she hasn't been ridden in over a week and it's been cold and windy and rainy and horses are usually a lot fresher and spunky when it's cold and windy. But at least she wasn't rearing and bucking like two of the other horses. Eventually I got on her and she watched them set off fireworks. She didn't want to approach but at least she didn't try to turn and run.
Later I had to put her behind Wyman's horse and got her to follow him through the grid of flares, down the middle of two rows of them, then weaving up and back each side. Eventually I could get her to go without him giving us a lead over and I finished up with her standing calmly in a square of four flares, and there had her do turns on the forehand and on the haunches and sidepassed her back and forth and she started paying less attention to the flares and more attention to me.
So, ultimately, I was proud of her as usual, although a bit surprised she was unwilling to approach the commotion with the fireworks. But it's asking a lot of a horse. I think if we do another session she'll do better since she'll have had a chance to think about it for awhile.
Dawn mostly just whinnied wanting Dash to come back.
It will be her turn next time.
And that's the latest from the Ranch.
Later I had to put her behind Wyman's horse and got her to follow him through the grid of flares, down the middle of two rows of them, then weaving up and back each side. Eventually I could get her to go without him giving us a lead over and I finished up with her standing calmly in a square of four flares, and there had her do turns on the forehand and on the haunches and sidepassed her back and forth and she started paying less attention to the flares and more attention to me.
So, ultimately, I was proud of her as usual, although a bit surprised she was unwilling to approach the commotion with the fireworks. But it's asking a lot of a horse. I think if we do another session she'll do better since she'll have had a chance to think about it for awhile.
Dawn mostly just whinnied wanting Dash to come back.
It will be her turn next time.
And that's the latest from the Ranch.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Riding with the boys
As a member of the newly-formed Gila County Sheriff’s Mounted Posse, I recently participated in my first real missing-person search. I’d signed up picturing searches through open woods, looking for lost children who would come running up when they saw the “horsies,” carrying them back to their mothers’ arms on the back of my saddle. Reality proved to be vastly different from my naïve fantasy.
My primary posse horse, Dawn, is a six-year-old Quarter horse. She’s white with blue eyes and her tack is turquoise. Her full sister, Dash, is seven. She’s a beautiful red bay, and her tack is pink. They are both fantastic trail horses, but Dawn always seemed to be tougher than Dash when the going gets rough. So she is used for posse work, whereas Dash is used mostly for pleasant evening rides on familiar trails.
When I arrived at the search site at 11 a.m. Monday, the rest of the group had already been out for a couple of hours looking for a missing man with a medical condition. He was known to be on foot and “out there somewhere.” Shortly before noon, twelve riders on horses, including Dawn and me, left to go search another sector. I was finally on my first official search.
We rode as a group to the starting point, spread out in a line, and went “that-a-way,” looking for any sign of the missing man. There were five women and seven men, and we randomly positioned ourselves in the line without regard to gender or terrain. We were there to do a job, and we all attacked it equally.
Of course there was no trail going “that-a-way;” so we had to make our own. The footing was rocky, and there was a seemingly impenetrable wall of manzanita and other unfriendly, prickly shrubbery to push through – no casual stroll through open forest on this search.
Push through we did. Dawn had to break her way through manzanita at times as high as her shoulders and shove through tree limbs that occasionally poked the side of her face. I never had to ask twice. One nudge with the heels and she resolutely stepped into the thicket and made her own path. Later I would find spots of blood on her white hide where the manzanita had punctured her, but she never hesitated to go forth when I asked.
We rode like that – breaking through brush and climbing up and down rocky hillsides – for over five hours, until we returned to the command post at 4:45, with no sign of the missing man.
I had to miss the continuation of the search Tuesday but I was there at 9 a.m. Wednesday with Dawn again in tow. By the third day of the search, we had only seven riders – three women and four men. The search moved to another area, also populated with tough manzanita to push through. Again that young mare performed admirably, did everything I asked her to do, climbing the rocky slopes and descending into washes and gullies without complaint until we called a halt to the search at about 3:30 p.m.
Some of the other riders had been there for all three of those search days, and they and their animals were exhausted and sore. There was discussion of calling off further searches since we had searched the likely areas and really didn’t know where the man could have gone. But some of us had an idea that maybe Gibson Peak was a possibility. I was warned, “It’s a tough climb,” but it didn’t look all that bad to me; I thought the first day had been the toughest. I agreed to come back at 8 a.m. Thursday to help search Gibson Peak.
Since Dawn had already given two days of hard work I decided to take Dash instead. Dash hadn’t been ridden in a couple of weeks, but I figured she could handle a four- or five-hour ride. I was a bit apprehensive, though, about not taking Dawn since she’s usually my “tough ride” horse. But it was time Dash took a turn at bat.
Only three other riders came that day, all men – cowboys, really – all on geldings. We headed out about 8:30 a.m. and rode on a rocky trail to the foot of the mountain. It hadn’t looked like that steep of a climb when they had pointed out our destination in the distance so I still wasn’t too worried…until we got to the mountain and I looked up....
Jerry and Wyman were intimately familiar with Gibson Peak from hunting forays, Rod less so, and I not at all. We turned to climb uphill. There was no trail at all, just Jerry’s sense of direction to guide us. The route we took was steep, and rocky, and frequently blocked with manzanita or trees. I looked up at the climb ahead and wondered what in the world I was thinking to go on a ride that the cowboys who were actually familiar with the area had described as “a tough climb.” Many times we had to duck over our horses’ necks to get under tree limbs that threatened to knock us from their backs while our horses scrambled to keep footing and dodge prickly pear at the same time. Frequently we had to double back and find another path after being blocked by trees with no way to get through them.
Searching really was nearly impossible on the slope; most of our effort went into simply finding a way to the top. We stopped several times to “let them blow” since the steep ascent was hard on all four horses, but particularly for my relatively out-of-condition mare. I quickly realized this was the hardest ride I’d ever been on in my life and I wondered if we were going to make it.
Twice Dash went to her knees trying to step up and over rocks on a steep section. Somehow she regained her footing without pitching me off onto a cactus. Often we would fall behind and one of the men would call back to ask if we were okay and I would reply that we were fine, and they would stop for a minute to let me come back into view. I was grateful to have three such competent men looking out for me, but determined to get through this on our own steam. It would have been extremely embarrassing to have to call out the posse to rescue a posse rider!
And ultimately, Dash managed to follow in those geldings’ footsteps and made it to the top of the mountain right behind them. I was proud of her – and of myself – for persevering and succeeding.
It turned out two members of Tonto Rim Search and Rescue had arrived on foot and searched from the other direction so we had no reason to go on further. We dismounted and took a break while looking at the views, which were spectacular – a 360 degree panorama of Rim Country splendor.
But as I admired the view and snapped pictures with my cell phone, I worried about the ride back down. I hadn’t known what I was getting into when we came up; now I knew what lay before me on the trip back. I hoped there was an easier way back. Surely we didn’t have to go down the way we had come up?
Uh...yes. We did. The way we had come up was the easier way back. After resting for about a half hour, we remounted and headed back the way we had come.
Down is a very different experience than Up. Going Up, the horses’ powerful hindquarters can push the front end up and over rocks. Going Down, the horses have to nearly sit on those same hindquarters while the front end carefully drops down over rocks as much as a foot high, the landing usually consisting of loose rocks that could slide under the weight of the horse. Many times, Dash had to stop and figure out for herself how to get down without falling down; there was nothing I could do to help her. My job was to sit still and let her do it, lest some unexpected movement of my own upset her balance.
Every time I hit a place (going or coming) that I knew was more than she’d ever encountered before, I would look at the retreating rumps of the mens’ horses and tell her, “If their horses can do it, so can you.” And she did. I’ve never been more proud of her.
While they never verbally expressed any doubts within my hearing, I really think the men had expected me to bail out halfway up that mountain. By the time we got back, they were all expressing how proud they were of us for hanging in there when the going got tough.
I told them, “If I can’t ride with the boys, I’m not much use to the posse.” This was what I had signed up for. Rescue fantasies aside, I knew a search wasn’t going to be a pleasure ride down a well-used trail on soft dirt. I knew the going could get rough – although I had no idea just how rough “rough” could be – and I was proud of the way both of my mares had risen to the occasion and done everything I asked them to do, and gone everywhere I had pointed their feet.
We hadn’t found our man, but my mares and I had found something very important – our own confidence. Dawn had bravely pushed through manzanita that poked holes in her skin and scraped painfully at her hide, and Dash and I had both faced our own fears and uncertainties and made it off that mountain together without help. I won’t hesitate to send either one of them anywhere the posse needs to go.
We had ridden with the boys and made it – pink bridle and all!
My primary posse horse, Dawn, is a six-year-old Quarter horse. She’s white with blue eyes and her tack is turquoise. Her full sister, Dash, is seven. She’s a beautiful red bay, and her tack is pink. They are both fantastic trail horses, but Dawn always seemed to be tougher than Dash when the going gets rough. So she is used for posse work, whereas Dash is used mostly for pleasant evening rides on familiar trails.
Photo by Tessa Nicolet
The author with her two mares, Dash and Dawn.
The author with her two mares, Dash and Dawn.
When I arrived at the search site at 11 a.m. Monday, the rest of the group had already been out for a couple of hours looking for a missing man with a medical condition. He was known to be on foot and “out there somewhere.” Shortly before noon, twelve riders on horses, including Dawn and me, left to go search another sector. I was finally on my first official search.
We rode as a group to the starting point, spread out in a line, and went “that-a-way,” looking for any sign of the missing man. There were five women and seven men, and we randomly positioned ourselves in the line without regard to gender or terrain. We were there to do a job, and we all attacked it equally.
Of course there was no trail going “that-a-way;” so we had to make our own. The footing was rocky, and there was a seemingly impenetrable wall of manzanita and other unfriendly, prickly shrubbery to push through – no casual stroll through open forest on this search.
Dawn emerges from the manzanita thicket.
Push through we did. Dawn had to break her way through manzanita at times as high as her shoulders and shove through tree limbs that occasionally poked the side of her face. I never had to ask twice. One nudge with the heels and she resolutely stepped into the thicket and made her own path. Later I would find spots of blood on her white hide where the manzanita had punctured her, but she never hesitated to go forth when I asked.
We rode like that – breaking through brush and climbing up and down rocky hillsides – for over five hours, until we returned to the command post at 4:45, with no sign of the missing man.
I had to miss the continuation of the search Tuesday but I was there at 9 a.m. Wednesday with Dawn again in tow. By the third day of the search, we had only seven riders – three women and four men. The search moved to another area, also populated with tough manzanita to push through. Again that young mare performed admirably, did everything I asked her to do, climbing the rocky slopes and descending into washes and gullies without complaint until we called a halt to the search at about 3:30 p.m.
Three of the other women who participated in the search.
Some of the other riders had been there for all three of those search days, and they and their animals were exhausted and sore. There was discussion of calling off further searches since we had searched the likely areas and really didn’t know where the man could have gone. But some of us had an idea that maybe Gibson Peak was a possibility. I was warned, “It’s a tough climb,” but it didn’t look all that bad to me; I thought the first day had been the toughest. I agreed to come back at 8 a.m. Thursday to help search Gibson Peak.
Since Dawn had already given two days of hard work I decided to take Dash instead. Dash hadn’t been ridden in a couple of weeks, but I figured she could handle a four- or five-hour ride. I was a bit apprehensive, though, about not taking Dawn since she’s usually my “tough ride” horse. But it was time Dash took a turn at bat.
Only three other riders came that day, all men – cowboys, really – all on geldings. We headed out about 8:30 a.m. and rode on a rocky trail to the foot of the mountain. It hadn’t looked like that steep of a climb when they had pointed out our destination in the distance so I still wasn’t too worried…until we got to the mountain and I looked up....
Jerry and Wyman were intimately familiar with Gibson Peak from hunting forays, Rod less so, and I not at all. We turned to climb uphill. There was no trail at all, just Jerry’s sense of direction to guide us. The route we took was steep, and rocky, and frequently blocked with manzanita or trees. I looked up at the climb ahead and wondered what in the world I was thinking to go on a ride that the cowboys who were actually familiar with the area had described as “a tough climb.” Many times we had to duck over our horses’ necks to get under tree limbs that threatened to knock us from their backs while our horses scrambled to keep footing and dodge prickly pear at the same time. Frequently we had to double back and find another path after being blocked by trees with no way to get through them.
Searching really was nearly impossible on the slope; most of our effort went into simply finding a way to the top. We stopped several times to “let them blow” since the steep ascent was hard on all four horses, but particularly for my relatively out-of-condition mare. I quickly realized this was the hardest ride I’d ever been on in my life and I wondered if we were going to make it.
Twice Dash went to her knees trying to step up and over rocks on a steep section. Somehow she regained her footing without pitching me off onto a cactus. Often we would fall behind and one of the men would call back to ask if we were okay and I would reply that we were fine, and they would stop for a minute to let me come back into view. I was grateful to have three such competent men looking out for me, but determined to get through this on our own steam. It would have been extremely embarrassing to have to call out the posse to rescue a posse rider!
And ultimately, Dash managed to follow in those geldings’ footsteps and made it to the top of the mountain right behind them. I was proud of her – and of myself – for persevering and succeeding.
It turned out two members of Tonto Rim Search and Rescue had arrived on foot and searched from the other direction so we had no reason to go on further. We dismounted and took a break while looking at the views, which were spectacular – a 360 degree panorama of Rim Country splendor.
Wyman and Jerry on Gibson’s Peak.
But as I admired the view and snapped pictures with my cell phone, I worried about the ride back down. I hadn’t known what I was getting into when we came up; now I knew what lay before me on the trip back. I hoped there was an easier way back. Surely we didn’t have to go down the way we had come up?
Uh...yes. We did. The way we had come up was the easier way back. After resting for about a half hour, we remounted and headed back the way we had come.
Down is a very different experience than Up. Going Up, the horses’ powerful hindquarters can push the front end up and over rocks. Going Down, the horses have to nearly sit on those same hindquarters while the front end carefully drops down over rocks as much as a foot high, the landing usually consisting of loose rocks that could slide under the weight of the horse. Many times, Dash had to stop and figure out for herself how to get down without falling down; there was nothing I could do to help her. My job was to sit still and let her do it, lest some unexpected movement of my own upset her balance.
Every time I hit a place (going or coming) that I knew was more than she’d ever encountered before, I would look at the retreating rumps of the mens’ horses and tell her, “If their horses can do it, so can you.” And she did. I’ve never been more proud of her.
While they never verbally expressed any doubts within my hearing, I really think the men had expected me to bail out halfway up that mountain. By the time we got back, they were all expressing how proud they were of us for hanging in there when the going got tough.
I told them, “If I can’t ride with the boys, I’m not much use to the posse.” This was what I had signed up for. Rescue fantasies aside, I knew a search wasn’t going to be a pleasure ride down a well-used trail on soft dirt. I knew the going could get rough – although I had no idea just how rough “rough” could be – and I was proud of the way both of my mares had risen to the occasion and done everything I asked them to do, and gone everywhere I had pointed their feet.
We hadn’t found our man, but my mares and I had found something very important – our own confidence. Dawn had bravely pushed through manzanita that poked holes in her skin and scraped painfully at her hide, and Dash and I had both faced our own fears and uncertainties and made it off that mountain together without help. I won’t hesitate to send either one of them anywhere the posse needs to go.
We had ridden with the boys and made it – pink bridle and all!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)