My First Mare~

1964 - Topsy

Was I a horse crazy kid?  Yes!  My parents made the move from IA to CO when I was only about four.  My maternal Grandfather had died & my Dad had a job opportunity in Boulder.  Soon, my brother was born, the bane of my existence:-)  A few more years, another brother & my sister were added to our family.  

Each summer - we'd make the trek to IA to visit all our Grandparents.   In the early 60's, my grandmother married a man who had a large farm, no kids & was happy at the prospect of having grandkids.  There were eleven of us in all!  When he asked about us & Grandma didn't forget to mention I was horse crazy.   Grandpa went often to the sale barn.  On our first visit, he'd purchased a horse.

I can't describe now how happy I was, when I heard the news at the breakfast table!  I ran for the barn, totally unprepared for the beautiful, brilliant red, wild-eyed mare!  "Wild as a March hare", as Grandma described her!  I had no real experience with horses.  Just a day now & then cleaning stalls at a riding stable in Boulder, exchanging the work for riding lessons.

Topsy - My brother in the background firing his rifle~

Grandpa had found out only a little of her history. She'd been the private mount of a wealthy woman who was a hobby breeder. When the lady passed, Topsy was purchased by a young man who used her to "cowboy".  She'd been mistreated & over-ridden. There was a large spur scar on her right side, the hairs had grown in white. She was difficult & certainly a little wild, but not at all mean.

I've mentioned before, a saddle was hung over the top, of the tall door to the double box stall.  Grandpa told me I could ride, when I could get it down & get her saddled.  I spent several days gentling her.  I'd sit on the manger for hours, trying to get her to accept a carrot out of my hand. She finally did.  The saddle thing was a no go - so I found a headstall.  It was too big for her small head.  the bit sat too low, but it worked.  The only thing left, was to climb up on her back.  At the sound of hoof-beats, Grandma came running out the door & took the photo below.

1964 ~

It was the beginning of a partnership that defined the horsewoman I would become.  Every minute of every summer I was in the saddle.  (Eventually :-) I had several tricks for retaining Topsy's devotion :-) One, was hollowing out the center of a carrot, after cutting off the top, filling it with sugar & replacing the top!  The expression on her face, when she first bit into that carrot was priceless!  Dried corn out of the corn crib too.   I'd hold the ear; turn it & she would happily clean the cob of every kernel!

Grandpa taught me to help round up the cattle.  His instructions were "Sit deep, sit back & let the mare do her job!"  I did - she did & boy what a blast it was!  Grandpa & Uncle Bud would each be in a pickup - driving up the sides of the herd - while Topsy & I drove them from behind.  Topsy would dart back & forth to push any escapees back into the herd.   

We'd also be sent out to look for cows, who hid their calves in the scrub juniper.  I'll never forget the day I'd gotten off to tighten the cinch, when a cow charged us out of the trees!  That was my first flying mount!  I went back to the house & told Grandpa; he got a great laugh out of it.

Another time, Grandpa had me go to the far pasture to help him & Uncle Bud round up six head of Angus.  I was pretty accomplished at cattle wrangling by that time & when I started pushing - they didn't move???  Grandpa yelled from the truck - "Keep At Them!"  "Get them moving!"  Topsy barred her teeth - made a run at one & he took off!  The rest followed & we chased them into the corral.  Back at the house, I told Grandma what we'd been doing.  She didn't even finish listening to my story before she was out the door.  Poor Grandpa - was asked; what on earth he was thinking?  Having a 12-yr. old girl round up those young Bulls! :-)  Bulls! :-)

1966 & my first roll of COLOR film!

My stirrups couldn't be adjusted any higher - my toe just rested there. :-)  Most of the time, I kept a rope halter on under the headstall - for when we stopped to pick mulberries.  Topsy would let me stand on her back to pick, as long as she got her share!   We were a familiar sight to the farmers of the area, riding all the country roads as far we could wander.  Topsy had an incredible gait Grandpa called a "single-foot".  Very smooth, ground covering & fast!  We'd fly along the shoulder of the gravel roads!

Last ride - 1968

The hardest part - was always at the end of my vacation - when I had to leave - to return to my real life in Boulder...   That summer, I think we both somehow knew, it would be our last time together...

Saying Goodby~ With Fella aka. "Pooch"

By 1969, I was married & expecting a baby.   Grandma wrote that Topsy had been sold...  I was heartbroken, asked a thousand questions & received only sketchy answers...  I knew Grandpa had no use for any animal that didn't earn it's keep & her teeth were very bad.  We never did know exactly how old she was - but by then, probably close to 20.   A year or two later, after I'd asked on several occasions, my aunt, who worked at the auction barn, told me she'd gone to slaughter.

Topsy grazing on Grandma's lawn~

 I cut a piece from her mane that last time & have it still, as I do a lock of Fella's black/white fur.   We made several more trips out - bringing Grandma's Great-Granddaughters to the farm.  Grandpa bought another horse to "replace" Topsy - when he'd realized how upset I was.  (That horse picked me up by my shoulder over the top of the fence & threw me three feet.)  He was gone the next day, but Grandpa usually kept a couple horses on the farm for us to ride.

Cattle on the Farm 1986

It took just over twenty-years, but the year that Grandpa passed, was one year after we'd moved to the Homestead.  For my 40th birthday - the Great guy I share my life with now, bought me my first Arab mare!   It's funny how things work out.  After all the horse's in-between, Farah is as close to Topsy in personality as she could possibly be~