This journey all began in the pre-dawn hours of Thanksgiving, 2008, when our beloved Quarter Horse, Willie, passed away from colic. We needed an immediate replacement, as our 23 year old mare, Laramie was pining badly for her friend Willie over the course of the next few weeks. I will spare you all the details of my searching for the perfect horse, as they are complex and entailed much searching and vetting and eventual purchasing. We did find a replacement for Willie - ironically a chestnut QH with a white blaze who looks very much like Willie did - completely coincidental, I assure you. Possibly because of his resemblance to Willie, and possibly because Fate knew better than me, I had a hard time adjusting to Tonka, and took awhile to bond with him. During that process, I found myself scouring the internet for another horse we didn't actually NEED. I discovered many rescue organizations, and my heart became set on saving a horse bound for slaughter that no one else wanted. That's when I met Kim Clark of Leighton Farm (www.leightonfarm.com).
I found Kim's site through horsetopia.com and then began email correspondence with her. She seemed knowledgeable, and from the first email I received, everything about her screamed love of horses above and beyond anything else. This is a woman who only wanted what is best for these beautiful animals, and would not (unlike Tonka's previous owner), sell us a horse that was not a good fit. She was honest and forthright about every horse's soundness and bad habits if they had any. She also wanted to get to know me and what I was looking for in a horse so that the horse I found would be a good match - for the horse's sake, so he or she would have a forever home.
From the start, I was leery about acquiring an off the track thoroughbred racehorse (OTTB) because of all the negative things you hear about how hard they are to control, how crazy they are, how they never come off the track sound, etc. But I quickly developed a LOT of respect for Kim and wished to help her out as much as I could, even if it only meant a donation so that more horses could be saved. Somewhere deep inside me, however, was a nagging thought that after all these years, I finally needed a horse I could call my own. I knew if anyone could guide me in this process, Kim could, and would do so with honesty and integrity.
I met Kim at the Bowie (Maryland) race track (only used for training anymore) one VERY cold winter day to look at some horses she had to photograph for her website. Her "job" has become to establish relationships with the racehorse trainers at various race tracks so they will be willing to work with her to find new careers for racehorses when they stop showing promise, instead of sending them to slaughter like so many thousands end up every year. This is a volunteer position, and Kim has said to me more than once, she only does it for the animals. So I arrived at the track and had to wait at the guard's gate for Kim to come and get me - she was already there, busily photographing horses, talking to trainers, etc. She came to get me, and introduced me to four of the most beautiful horses I had ever seen. The horses I had been used to until this point were barn pets - mostly quarter horses, who got baths maybe twice a year if they were lucky, who grew shaggy coats in winter to stay warm, and who would nicker at the fence for a treat as I approached, and who my littlest children could climb all over and under and never have to worry about the horses being dangerous. Never before had I been face-to-face with the high-strung, spit-shined type of horse I witnessed that very cold day. Their feed, their fitness level, their lack of regular exercise (since they were being retired from racing), and the cold wind all contributed to these horses feeling good and wanting to frisk about. I stood in awe as Kim took pictures. I helped write a few notes about each one so she could advertise them accurately on her site. And, I fell in love with a breed of horse I NEVER imagined myself falling in love with!
After that day, I kept in contact with Kim. She knew I was looking for a bigger horse, with no soundness issues (I had been duped more than once by people wanting to get rid of horses and not being honest about their health and vices), one that my daughter may even decide to train for eventing - a rigorous physical test requiring much retraining for an OTTB. She knew what I wanted and eventually found a horse we both thought would be perfect. Rowdy had been on her site for awhile. A 3 year old chestnut thoroughbred, 15.3 hands and still growing, never been raced, perfectly sound, and already begun dressage training. The only problem was Rowdy's price was set to $4500.00, totally out of my budget! But, convinced this horse would be good for us, Kim talked the horse's trainer into lowering the price to $1500.00. I was ELATED! But something weird happened when she emailed me the contact info for the trainer - I didn't call. I held onto the phone number, and even put it in my phone. I would call, I just didn't know when. Was it the money? I didn't think so, but maybe. I couldn't put my finger on what it was. And then I got busy. But Rowdy niggled away in my thoughts the busier I got, and I knew I had to do something, but I still didn't call. Was I hoping he would get sold to someone else? If so, why?
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February 3, 2009, the day before my 40th birthday, I went to bed and could not sleep. I visited Kim's website as I had been doing almost daily since that very cold day at the track when I fell in love with thoroughbreds. On Kim's "Giveaway" page, there was an urgent plea for help for 4 horses who desperately needed homes right away because their trainer had been ruled off the track. For a horse who's trainer has been given the boot, their fate is anything but certain. Many end up being sold to meat men, or kill buyers as they are commonly known, shipped across the borders to Canada or Mexico, slaughtered, and the meat is then sold for consumption in Canada and Europe. This is a fast, easy, and inexpensive way for trainers to be rid of horses to make room for new ones, or as in this case, when they no longer have rights at the race track. As soon as I saw Kim's plea, I had the answer I was looking for regarding Rowdy. The pieces came together in my mind, and I was never more sure of a horse-decision in my life. It was far too late to wake my husband, so I emailed Kim in the wee hours of my 40th birthday, and told her I wanted to help - I knew Rowdy would find a good home, and I wanted to make sure these boys at the track would have a home, too. I had to get up very early for doctor's appointments, but the minute I returned home, I checked my email, and Kim had replied asking me to call her, which I did. I ran to tell my husband that I knew I had to do this - I wanted to adopt a OTTB and if needed, would foster others until they found homes. Kim wanted me to meet her at the track the next day, Thursday, February 5.
On Thursday, I took my daughter and my best friend with me to the track to meet the four horses. I wasn't sure, but I had the feeling I would be taking a horse home. Had I prepared my husband enough? Had I made it clear what I was doing? Did I have any idea what I was getting myself into? No. My "favorite" of the four, Royal, suddenly became unavailable as the trainer decided not to get rid of him yet, for reasons no one can figure out. So I looked at all 3 bay geldings. One was thought to have a "big ankle" so Kim didn't bother showing him to me, he probably could not event. Then there was a 16.3h bay gelding who was so friendly and pleasant that it almost startled me. The third was a 16 hand bay gelding who cribbed. I don't mind cribbing, personally, and I would have taken him as most people don't want a horse that cribs (bites on hard surfaces and pulls back to suck air in, causing damage to the wood or whatever they crib on), but this horse tried far too many times to bite me. Not nibble in a friendly way, but really bite. So, I went back to the 16.3 hand gelding who I was told is 6 years old, and asked to see him walk. I at least wanted a quick look at his legs and see if he showed any lameness at all. The trainer's sister was working there, and took him out and walked him and he looked perfect. My gut screamed "take this one!" and so I told Kim, "He's the one."
Without further ado, Kim loaded Collective (his registered name) onto her trailer, without even a tranquilizer! I think he knew he was going to a good place - any place had to be better than where he had been living - except the kill pen, that is. He was in terrible shape having been starved for what appeared to be a long time. His hair was dirty and matted in a few places - how long had it been since he had been handled? Bathed? Fed? It was anyone's guess. Despite being very underweight, his temperment was friendly, even though he was still "high" from his life on the track. Kim said she would take him to her farm for a few days to begin the letting down process (to get him to come off his race track high), and then I would take him to my farm to finish it, but she would walk me through everything I needed to know.
As I was driving to Kim's farm, I began to wonder if I really could handle this. I have lots and lots of "book knowledge" from scouring websites and reading articles, and books, etc., but I have never handled a horse like this before, nor have I ever let down a horse from the race track before. I have never even trained anything more than a puppy! I knew I was counting on Kim, and Cherie (my daughter's riding instructor), and anyone else who could help. I also knew that people in the business of rescuing horses really will help because they only want what is best for the animal. But still my confidence was shaky at best. When I arrived at Kim's farm, she had tranquilized him, and I watched as she unloaded him and put him in a round pen. Collective may never have seen a round pen before, and may never have been turned out with other horses before - we will never know. All I knew at that moment was this is now my horse, so I better get to know him! I went to the round pen, and Kim said I could go in, but not to get myself killed, because she needed me to take him home because she didn't have room to keep him LOL! Her words of warning were enough to plant some cautious fear in me, and while I began to go in the pen, I thought better of it when he jumped a mile as I reached out to touch him. That day he regarded me with curious indifference - he would look at me, start to come to me, then decide that eating the dried, frozen mud and grass nubs was more appealing than trusting a strange human. I did manage to get him to come over to me for some grass, but his side bumped the round pen as he did, and he bolted to the other side. That was the last time - from that moment on, for the rest of my visit, he ignored me completely, and would not even consider coming to me. It was as if he thought I had scared him, and he was not about to trust me. I couldn't blame him a bit! I just wondered if it now meant it would take more to earn his trust.
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On Friday, Feb. 6, I took my best friend with me to the farm to see him. This time he was in a smaller round pen with less room to move around. Kim pointed out that after only two solid meals Collective's hair had begun to lay back down. When they are starved, their hair stands up to help keep them warmer. Today, in the sun, despite the cold, his mahogany hair was gleaming and laying flatter than it had. He looked cleaner too, possibly because he was given a blanket to help keep his bony frame warm. The interesting thing about this visit is that Collective seemed to remember me as the human that scared him yesterday, but he seemed totally smitten with my friend Kathleen! He nosed her, came to her, let her pet him, etc. I was eventually able to pet him, too, but it took longer for him to believe I wouldn't be startling him again! By the end of this visit, he was letting me pat his face, but neither of us could touch his neck. He would pull back every time I tried to reach for his neck, no matter how slowly I tried, or how calmly I spoke to him. I tried to work my way to his neck from his cheek, but he was too smart for that and would pull back every time my hand moved off his cheek in the direction of his neck. Smart boy! But oh, why couldn't he see that I was to be trusted?
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Saturday, February 7 was a lot warmer than it had been. I brought my husband and my younger daughter to visit Collective. We would be taking him home on Sunday, and I guess I needed actual approval from my husband that this really was ok for me to try to save this horse. Great news, though! Kim had gone back to the track to pick up both other bay geldings, because they were bound for slaughter. There they were romping about in separate round pens. Turns out they were full brothers and she was going to try to find them a home together :). Collective had been moved to the other barn and seemed genuinely happy to see us - but that could have been all the treats my daughter had brought! We fed him carrots, peppermints, and horse cookies, and he couldn't have been more pleased with these humans! He seemed to really take to the short human (my 7 year old daugher!), who incidentally has been around horses almost her whole life, and has NO fear of them whatsover. I got to lead Collective with a gum chain to the main barn to have his back shoes removed. I then led him into the dressage area just to practice walking him with a gum chain. All went very well until the farrier started his truck lol. When the engine revved, Collective revved too! He tried to rear and buck, but I held firm and talked softly to him, told him "Easy boy," and he listened, but stayed very tense. JK came over to lead him back to the barn, which was fine by me as he had wrenched my shoulder and totally freaked me out, but I did my best not to let him (Collective) know that! We fed him more treats and he seemed to forget the whole thing ever happened. During this visit, he was perfectly fine with me petting his neck - progress!!! He actually seemed to relish the attention, which of course we smothered him with! As we said goodbye, we told him we would be back tomorrow to take him to his new home where he could stay forever. He looked so wise and peaceful as if he understood. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't, but he at least gave me the feeling like he was looking forward to it.
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