For The Love of Horses (Pegasus Equestrian Center)

by Diana Vincent

“You are owed compensation for all expenses incurred while you’ve had the horse. Prepare an itemized statement of every possible penny you have spent. Maybe with what you charge for board and training she might be willing to cut her losses. I would image the amount is in the thousands.”

  “And if she is willing to pay the bill?”

  “Then maybe she will sell the horse back to you.”

  “Jerry, this feels so wrong. Do you have any idea how much this horse means to River, his true owner?”

  “I know, Tess. You’ve told me, but the law is the law.”

  “Doesn’t the law have anything to say about attachment and the animal’s welfare?”

  “Tess, we are not talking about custody of a child.”

  “In River’s case, we might as well be.” When her lawyer didn’t respond, Tess said in resignation, “Alright, Jerry. I will prepare the statement, and you are right, it will be in the thousands. Let’s just hope it’s not worth it to her, but she looks like she has the bank account to handle it.”

  “We’ll face each roadblock as it comes up,” Jerry replied.

  “I’d prefer to bypass roadblocks. Keep looking for the holes in her story. I smell a rat, Jerry. Find the hole!”

  “Tess…” Jerry began.

  “Find the hole,” she interrupted, and hung up. Tess leaned forward with her elbows on her desk and buried her face in her hands. This can’t be happening…

  *****

  Chapter 4 Oberon

  The knowledge of the nature of a horse is one of the first foundations of the art of riding, and every horseman must make it his principal study. – De la Gueriniere, School of Horsemanship

  *****

  “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I don’t know what else to do,” Amy Chandler pleaded with River over the phone. “I can bring him when we come to pick Diva up this weekend.”

  River had formed a friendship with Amy, the first owner of Eager Encounter (nicknamed Diva), when Crystal’s father bought the mare about two years ago. Crystal had won the regional combined training championship at training level on Diva in their first year of competing together. But when the mare injured a ligament last season, ruining Crystal’s chances to compete in the championship, Crystal decided she had enough of riding and put the mare up for sale. River loved the mare, and he was happy that her first owner, who also loved her, had been able to buy her back. Both he and Sierra had spent hours with Diva, first hand-walking her after her injury, and then riding her at a walk; all part of her rehabilitation. Now she was sound enough to make the long journey, two states away, to return home to Amy.

  “Tell me what’s wrong with him again?” River asked.

  “No one wants to get near him, much less ride him. He kicks and bites at the stable hands. On the lunge line he charges the handler if pushed, and if anyone dares try to ride him he’s likely to rear when you pick up the reins. River, if you could get through to him he’d be a really great horse. He’s a full brother to Diva and has great conformation. They just have very different personalities.”

  “Amy, I…” River didn’t know what to say. He had to admit he was intrigued with the possibility of a horse with Diva’s breeding, but the horse sounded dangerous, and…well, he really didn’t have the time.

  “You did so well with Corazón. River, if you don’t take him, my father is going to have him put down.” After a few moments where Amy sensed River thinking about that, she continued, “Oberon has a strong and willful personality. It’s interesting how with the same breeding, Diva took after her sire who’s as even-tempered as she is; and Oberon took after his dam, who’s always been a handful. We sold him as a two-year-old to a big show-jumping barn. I wasn’t happy about that because they have a reputation of really pushing their horses into competition. They have a lot of successes, but if you look at their winners compared to the number of horses from their stable out there competing, and then realize how often their horses come up lame, then it’s not so impressive. Anyway, they had him competing as a three-year-old, and he won or placed in almost all his classes. Then he was sold to a teenage girl taking lessons from their trainer. Well, she may have learned how to ride from them, but she sure didn’t learn basic horsemanship. It didn’t take long for Oberon to figure out who was dominant in that relationship, and I’m afraid her supposed ‘kindness’ turned him into a very aggressive and dangerous animal. We hear things in our local horse community, and when I heard he had bucked her off for the third time and they were sending him to the auction, I went and bid on him myself. The only other bidders were meat packers and a man who I think wanted him for a rodeo bronc. I got him for nine hundred dollars of my own money. My father had a fit and wants him gone. River, please, I will give him to you, and if you can’t help him, well…then at least we tried…and I will pay for having him put down or whatever has to be done.”

  With a sigh of resignation, River said, “Okay.”

  *****

  Saturday, Sierra and River both worked on grooming Diva, getting her ready to go back to her previous home. While Sierra brushed, River used small clippers to trim the bridle path - about an inch of mane removed behind the ears so that the crownpiece of the bridle would lie flat. Then River picked out the caked dirt around the frogs inside her hooves and Sierra combed her mane and tail.

  The sound of a diesel engine pulling into the stable yard alerted them to the arrival of Amy. Sierra and River both stopped in their work and looked at each other. Then Sierra stepped up to River and hugged him. She knew how much he was going to miss this lovely mare.

  They heard the sounds of a horse kicking at the sides of the trailer, and then a trumpeting whinny.

  “That must be Oberon,” River said.

  They heard more kicking and then a man shouted, “Cut it out.”

  “Let’s go see.” They hurried out to the stable yard.

  “Amy?” River said to a young woman standing at the side of the trailer, talking to the horse inside, trying to calm him down. A man at the back of the trailer opened latches and lowered the ramp.

  “River, how nice to finally meet you.” The woman turned and smiled and without hesitation, stepped over and gave him a hug.

  Sierra noticed River’s color deepen, and she fought down the jealous feelings arising as she noted that Amy was very attractive. Don’t be silly; she’s at least five years older than him. Then she turned her attention to what she could see of Oberon – two large eyes and flared, red nostrils at the end of a dark, mahogany bay head looking out of the trailer window.

  Oberon emitted another piercing whinny and it looked like he was trying to rear inside the trailer. As soon as the man had the ramp down, River stepped inside and up to the horse’s head.

  “Hi, I’m Sierra,” she said, joining Amy at the back of the trailer to watch the unloading of the horse.

  “Oh, I’ve heard a lot about you, Sierra. I’m Amy,” she greeted with a friendly smile.

  That helped relieve Sierra’s jealous feelings; River had told Amy about her; that was good. “Oberon doesn’t sound too happy,” Sierra commented.

  “No,” Amy agreed.

  A few minutes later, River backed out a tall, bay horse, a chain around his nose and attached to the lead. As soon as the horse had four feet on the ground, he reared, pulling at the lead, and then whirled his hind end around. River stepped in close to his head and then led him into a tight circle to get control. The horse shook his head, pulling against the lead, and swinging his hindquarters out. Once, he struck out with a foreleg, but River moved in close to his shoulder in self-defense.

  “Oh my God,” Sierra breathed out. She had never seen such a disobedient and resistive animal. He seemed far worse than Corazón when he had first arrived. Cory had been aggressive but always in self-defense. Oberon seemed just plain mean. But he sure is beautiful! He had the same refined head as Diva, with wide-set eyes in a broad forehead. A white patch between his eyes extended into a narrow blaze down to an elegant tapered muzzle
. She noticed a good slope to his shoulders and pasterns and when River led him away, noted even hocks. He had four white stockings that gleamed in contrast to the black on his legs and the rest of his coat a deep red color. “Is this normal for him?” she asked Amy.

  “I’m afraid so,” Amy replied. “We couldn’t even get shipping boots on him; no one was brave enough to bend down around him to put them on. The stable hands all call him ‘Brute’.”

  “Wow, what kind of abuse did it take to make him so mean?” Sierra wondered out loud.

  “That’s a good question, Sierra.” Amy tried to explain. “The training barn he went to is a reputable place and they turn out a lot of successful show jumpers. They’re very competitive and they have a reputation for getting horses out into the show world and winning in a very short time. They had Oberon out competing as a three-year-old; that’s way too young for a jumper. That has to have put a lot of stress on him, both mentally and physically. Then they sold him to one of their students who had no idea how to handle such a strong-willed animal. I’m afraid he learned very quickly from her how to get his own way. Unfortunately, most professional horsemen would never dream of accusing the trainers or the girl of abuse.” Amy shook her head and said as much to herself as to Sierra, “Abuse isn’t always the obvious whipping and beating a horse or neglecting their health needs. A lot of abuse is very subtle and considered acceptable.”

  Sierra nodded in agreement, and found she liked this young woman very much. She understood how Amy and River had become good friends even though they had never met in person.

  Somehow River managed to keep the horse on all four feet as he led him into an empty paddock. He removed the chain and lead, but did not try to take off the halter. Oberon spun away when released, jerking his head up and kicking out as he galloped a few strides off.

  “If anyone can get through to him, it’s River,” Sierra said as she and Amy walked over to join River heading back from the paddock.

  “I believe that; and I just hope he is successful,” Amy said and then added, “and doesn’t get hurt in the process.”

  Sierra glanced at her in shock. River hurt in managing a horse? That hadn’t occurred to her, but as she recalled the violent behavior exhibited by Oberon, a rivulet of worry began to flow into her heart. River knows what he’s doing, she assured herself.

  With a grim expression, River met up with them and they walked together toward the stable. “I don’t know, Amy,” he said in an ominous tone. “I’ve never sensed such meanness in a horse. He doesn’t act afraid, just aggressive.”

  “He wasn’t that way before we sold him. He did have a pushy attitude, but with lots of patience, he had learned to mind his manners.”

  “Hmm,” River mumbled.

  “I can’t wait to see Diva.” Amy changed the subject and her tone altered from worried to excited.

  “She’s ready for you,” River said with a smile.

  Just as they stepped inside the stable, Diva whinnied.

  “That’s her!” Amy exclaimed, and then as they came around to the crossties, “Oh…”

  Diva lowered her head, whickering in low rumbles, and stretched her nose toward Amy.

  “There you are…oh, sweet girl.” Amy stepped up to her mare, softly met her muzzle with the tips of her fingers, and then hugged her around her neck. “How I’ve missed you!” Amy continued to murmur as she stroked the mare’s neck, ran a hand over her shoulder and back, while Diva turned her head to nuzzle at her.

  Sierra’s eyes filled with moisture as she watched the reuniting of Amy and her beloved mare. She glanced at River in time to see him quickly brushing away at his own eyes. She smiled at him and wordlessly, they stepped closer together.

  “She remembers me!” Amy looked back at them; her own tears unchecked and glistening on her cheeks.

  *****

  After Diva left with Amy, and Sierra and River returned to their weekend routine, River made a point to several times stop at the paddock to watch Oberon. The bay horse made it quite obvious he had no love of humans, for whenever River stood at the fence, he retreated to the far corner of the paddock with flattened ears and back turned.

  “What happened to you?” River spoke soothingly to the big horse, but the bay’s only response was to flatten his ears tighter and swish his tail menacingly.

  At the end of the day when it was time to bring horses in for the night and feed, River wondered how he was going to catch Oberon. He stepped inside the paddock, a lead rope draped over his shoulder, and hands down at his side. He spoke a few words to let Oberon know he was there, and then waited quietly near the gate. Oberon’s head lifted as Manuel and Enrique led horses up the lane from lower paddocks toward the stable. River hoped the other horses going in would get his attention and that he might understand that going in usually meant food if the routine had been similar at his old home.

  Oberon whinnied once; loud and desperate sounding as Manuel passed his paddock leading Fala. With one eye on River, he trotted up to the fence parallel to the lane, and pranced alongside, keeping pace with Fala. But as he neared the gate where River waited, he whirled and trotted back to the corner. Enrique came along behind Fala, leading Moonshadow. Oberon half-reared and pranced alongside the fence, keeping pace.

  “That’s right,” River spoke soothingly. “Want to go in? We’ve got some good hay.”

  Again Oberon snorted and whirled away from River.

  Sierra came by, leading Fiel. With another trumpeting neigh, Oberon repeated his behavior of keeping pace alongside the fence until he neared River, and then spun away and this time kicking out with his back feet.

  “Okay, big guy,” River spoke calmly and left the paddock. Obviously, the horse had no manners at all, and the first important step in their relationship, River determined, was to establish boundaries. He returned to the tack room for a lunge whip and then back out to Oberon’s paddock.

  Oberon stood in the near corner watching the last horse disappear into the stable. River spoke to him as he approached, walking in a gradual arc toward the horse’s shoulder. He held the lunge whip low and pointed behind him, giving Oberon a chance to approach politely.

  As River came within a few yards, Oberon flattened his ears and lunged at River with teeth bared.

  “No, wrong answer,” River stated calmly, as he stepped forward and snapped the lunge whip toward the horse’s hindquarters. Oberon galloped off. River waited patiently until Oberon slowed, and whirled to face him, snorting loudly. With the lunge whip behind him, River turned away a few steps, a method of reducing pressure and rewarding the horse for looking at him. Then he turned and tried to approach Oberon’s shoulder again. He only managed two steps before Oberon whirled, lashing out with his back hooves. River followed up, snapping the lunge whip to push him on as Oberon galloped around the perimeter of the paddock. When he sensed the horse wanting to stop, he continued to push him a few more strides, and then allowed him to stop.

  It took close to half an hour with River pushing Oberon with the lunge whip every time the horse turned away as he approached. Whenever Oberon stopped and turned to face him, River rewarded him by turning his back and walking a few steps away. Finally, Oberon tired of galloping and held his ground as River approached. Nevertheless, River took his time, and took a few steps forward, and then turned away if Oberon remained facing him. A few steps at a time, he tried once to go all the way up to the horse, but when Oberon spun away, he followed up with the lunge whip again to drive him back into a gallop. The next time the tired horse stood still, River tried again to approach him, a few steps forward and then away if Oberon stood still, and this time, he was able to come up to his shoulder and touch him, and then snap the lead onto his halter.

  “Supper’s waiting,” River spoke soothingly as he led Oberon inside, “alfalfa and sweet oats.” The tired horse behaved as River led him into his new stall, but he didn’t sense any developing trust from Oberon. It seemed the horse had merely surrendered for now.r />
  “Wow, he’s going to be a challenge,” Sierra said, coming up to River as he latched the stall door.

  “No kidding,” River replied.

  The next morning, River carried a long handled, short-lashed whip used for in-hand or ground training, as he entered Oberon’s stall, determined to establish the same ‘rules’ – face me and all is well, but if you turn your back end, I’ll push back. It only took once using the whip in the air to push Oberon into the far corner when he turned his heels as River entered the stall. Then he stood still as River approached his shoulder, talking soothingly with the whip lowered behind him. He tossed his head resistively as River tried to halter him, but raising the whip was all it took for the big horse to relent into cooperativeness.

  That evening, it took half the time as yesterday for River to catch Oberon. He considered it progress.

  Later, after the horses had time to finish their evening feed, River told Manuel how he had managed to bring Oberon in and out and watched as Manuel entered the stall carrying the ground whip, and successfully haltered the horse. With the weekend over, Manuel would be the one to have to take Oberon out every morning.

  Monday afternoon, Tess found River in the tack room. “That new horse,” she said.

  “Yeah?”

  “He bit Enrique on the arm this morning. He had only stopped to look in through the grate to see if he had finished his hay.”

  “Oh no,” River groaned. “How bad is he hurt?”

  “Not that bad; fortunately he had on a thick jacket so he didn’t break the skin. But he’s going to have a nasty bruise. River …”

  “I’ll talk to Manuel,” he interrupted. “We can keep the grate closed.”

  Tess folded her arms, frowning. “He’s not like Corazón,” she stated.

  “No, he’s not,” River agreed. “Corazón’s aggression all came from being frightened. I don’t sense that Oberon is frightened…he’s just mean.”