Post by winterlakesfarm on Sept 8, 2008 0:56:46 GMT -5
So I never meant to have this horse. Like Sarge he was a horse on the lot that I never meant to own. Sarge was on a trailer with Sanka(who ended up being a Khemosabi daughter and a stellar trail horse) and he lived so he stayed.
Dally was a different deal. I paid for Sol(a grossly emaciated, scarred, crippled gelding) and when Juliane and I went to pick him up he was in with Dally. Both of them were emaciated old men and both had lost any "spark" of life. I took Sol out and Dally started calling. I should mention that it was my anniversary.
I could not handle them calling to each other and loaded Dally too.
It was so hot and we stopped at a TB farm to get pics of his horses to help him market them.
I honestly thought Dally might die. He was such a specimen of starvation and neglect I had no hopes at all. The hispanic man who worked at the TB farm had little english and I have rudimentary Spanish at best but when he helped me water Dally and Sol he was astonished at how they looked. I will never forget the look of pity on his face as he held the water bucket for them. He was an Angel.
Dally thrived at my farm and I let my friend's daughter ride him as he was sound(servicably) and loved to carry a rider. He was so proud.
Dally was a roadmap for a hard life when he came to me. I thought he would be the one to die but it was his friend Sol I had to let go early on.
Dally shit gravel, glass, and garbage for a month. He had scars and a permanant nose indent from a tie down. He had scars from a wound to his rear left leg that looked like a long term untreated rope burn. He was blind in one eye and his teeth were broken off ffrom eating whatever he could to stay alive. He had a tongue nearly cut in half by whatever bit his owners thought would control him. He was a warrior.
He had no use for people. I won him over with food and affection but to his last day he was a "ranch horse" and suspected everyone and their motives.
He gave me a gift on the day he passed. He went into the round pen and rolled. And he could not get up. Dally was obscenely proud. If I had to assist him it was a HUGE affront. It only reiterated to me that I was correct in letting him go before Winter.
Dally was amazing. My one final thought to share just how special he was is that when I took him to a barn that had roping chutes this old horse with the horrific knees voluntarily, without anyone in the arena, backed into the corner of a roping chute and cantered out shaking his head. And just in case we did not see it the first time he did it again.
This horse was exceptional. He was a work horse, a warrior, and my friend for a couple of years. I have told many of you that I would give anything to have known him as a younger horse. I can assure you he would have been too much for me then..
To my friend Dally. He was an exceptional soul who took the world on his own terms.
Godspeed old man
[img src="http://i73.photobucket.com/albums/i237/chorse_bucket/Dally8-1-06k![]()
i73.photobucket.com/albums/i237/chorse_bucket/cassidytrees-2.jpg"].jpg[/IMG]
Dally was a different deal. I paid for Sol(a grossly emaciated, scarred, crippled gelding) and when Juliane and I went to pick him up he was in with Dally. Both of them were emaciated old men and both had lost any "spark" of life. I took Sol out and Dally started calling. I should mention that it was my anniversary.
I could not handle them calling to each other and loaded Dally too.
It was so hot and we stopped at a TB farm to get pics of his horses to help him market them.
I honestly thought Dally might die. He was such a specimen of starvation and neglect I had no hopes at all. The hispanic man who worked at the TB farm had little english and I have rudimentary Spanish at best but when he helped me water Dally and Sol he was astonished at how they looked. I will never forget the look of pity on his face as he held the water bucket for them. He was an Angel.
Dally thrived at my farm and I let my friend's daughter ride him as he was sound(servicably) and loved to carry a rider. He was so proud.
Dally was a roadmap for a hard life when he came to me. I thought he would be the one to die but it was his friend Sol I had to let go early on.
Dally shit gravel, glass, and garbage for a month. He had scars and a permanant nose indent from a tie down. He had scars from a wound to his rear left leg that looked like a long term untreated rope burn. He was blind in one eye and his teeth were broken off ffrom eating whatever he could to stay alive. He had a tongue nearly cut in half by whatever bit his owners thought would control him. He was a warrior.
He had no use for people. I won him over with food and affection but to his last day he was a "ranch horse" and suspected everyone and their motives.
He gave me a gift on the day he passed. He went into the round pen and rolled. And he could not get up. Dally was obscenely proud. If I had to assist him it was a HUGE affront. It only reiterated to me that I was correct in letting him go before Winter.
Dally was amazing. My one final thought to share just how special he was is that when I took him to a barn that had roping chutes this old horse with the horrific knees voluntarily, without anyone in the arena, backed into the corner of a roping chute and cantered out shaking his head. And just in case we did not see it the first time he did it again.
This horse was exceptional. He was a work horse, a warrior, and my friend for a couple of years. I have told many of you that I would give anything to have known him as a younger horse. I can assure you he would have been too much for me then..
To my friend Dally. He was an exceptional soul who took the world on his own terms.
Godspeed old man
[img src="http://i73.photobucket.com/albums/i237/chorse_bucket/Dally8-1-06k
