In Memorial
Friends that run on the
other side of Rainbow Bridge
'God
Jumps'
by Lauren Davis Baker
God gives us horses and compels some of us to love them. Yet why does the horse,
an animal with such a big heart, live such a short life? Perhaps it's because if
our horses lived any longer, we wouldn't be able to bear losing them. Or,
perhaps it's because God wants to jump.
Perhaps God looks down on the fine horses we raise and decides when it's His
turn to ride. He gives us a few good years to care for and learn from them, but
when the time is right, it's up to us to see them off gracefully.
O.K., perhaps not gracefully. Blowing into a Kleenex is rarely graceful. But we
can be grateful.
To have a horse in your life is a gift. In the matter of a few short years, a
horse can teach a girl courage, if she chooses to grab mane and hang on for dear
life. Even the smallest of ponies is mightier than the tallest of girls. To
conquer the fear of falling off, having one's toes crushed, or being publicly
humiliated at a horse show is an admirable feat for any child. For that, we can
be grateful.
Horses teach us responsibility. Unlike a bicycle-or a computer-a horse needs
regular care and most of it requires that you get dirty and smelly and up off
the couch. Choosing to leave your cozy kitchen to break the crust of ice off the
water buckets is to choose responsibility. When our horses dip their noses and
drink heartily, we know we've made the right choice.
Learning to care for a horse is both an art and a science. Some are easy
keepers, requiring little more than regular turn-out, a flake of hay, and a
trough of clean water. Others will test you-you'll struggle to keep them from
being too fat or too thin. You'll have their feet shod regularly only to find
shoes gone missing. Some are so accident-prone you'll swear they're
intentionally finding new ways to injure themselves.
If you weren't raised with horses, you can't know that they have unique
personalities. You'd expect this from dogs, but horses? Indeed, there are clever
horses, grumpy horses, and even horses with a sense of humor. Those prone to
humor will test you by finding new ways to escape from the barn when you least
expect it. I found one of ours on the front porch one morning, eating the
cornstalks I'd carefully arranged as Halloween decorations.
Horses can be timid or brave, lazy or athletic, obstinate or willing. You will
hit it off with some horses and others will elude you altogether. There are as
many "types" of horses as there are people-which makes the whole partnership
thing all the more interesting.
If you've never ridden a horse, you probably assume it's a simple thing you can
learn in a weekend. You can, in fact, learn the basics on a Sunday-but to truly
ride well takes a lifetime. Working with a living being is far more complex than
turning a key in the ignition and putting the car in "drive."
In addition to listening to your instructor, your horse will have a few things
to say to you as well. On a good day, he'll be happy to go along with the
program and tolerate your mistakes; on a bad day, you'll swear he's trying to
kill you. Perhaps he's naughty or perhaps he's fed up with how slowly you're
learning his language. Regardless, the horse will have an opinion. He may choose
to challenge you (which can ultimately make you a better rider) or he may
carefully carry you over fences...if it suits him. It all depends on the
partnership - and partnership is what it's all about.
If you face your fears, swallow your pride, and are willing to work at it,
you'll learn lessons in courage, commitment, and compassion in addition to basic
survival skills. You'll discover just how hard you're willing to work toward a
goal, how little you know, and how much you have to learn. And, while some
people think the horse "does all the work", you'll be challenged physically as
well as mentally. Your horse may humble you completely. Or, you may find that
sitting on his back is the closest you'll get to heaven.
You can choose to intimidate your horse, but do you really want to? The results
may come more quickly but will your work ever be as graceful as that gained
through trust? The best partners choose to listen, as well as to tell. When it
works, we experience a sweet sense of accomplishment brought about by smarts,
hard work, and mutual understanding between horse and rider. These are the days
when you know with absolute certainty that your horse is enjoying his work.
If we make it to adulthood with horses still in our lives, most of us have to
squeeze riding into our oversaturated schedules; balancing our need for things
equine with those of our households and employers. There is never enough time to
ride, or to ride as well as we'd like. Hours in the barn are stolen pleasures.
If it is in your blood to love horses, you share your life with them. Our horses
know our secrets; we braid our tears into their manes and whisper our hopes into
their ears. A barn is a sanctuary in an unsettled world, a sheltered place where
life's true priorities are clear: a warm place to sleep, someone who loves us,
and the luxury of regular meals. Some of us need these reminders.
When you step back, it's not just about horses-it's about love, life, and
learning. On any given day, a friend is celebrating the birth of a foal, a blue
ribbon, or recovery from an illness. That same day, there is also loss: a broken
limb, a case of colic, a decision to sustain a life or end it gently. As horse
people, we share the accelerated life cycle of horses: the hurried rush of life,
love, loss, and death that caring for these animals brings us. When our partners
pass, it is more than a moment of sorrow.
We mark our loss with words of gratitude for the ways our lives have been
blessed. Our memories are of joy, awe, and wonder. Absolute union. We honor our
horses for their brave hearts, courage, and willingness to give.
To those outside our circle, it must seem strange. To see us in our muddy boots,
who would guess such poetry lives in our hearts? We celebrate our companions
with praise worthy of heroes. Indeed, horses have the hearts of warriors and
often carry us into and out of fields of battle.
Listen to stories of that once-in-a-lifetime horse; of journeys made and
challenges met. The best of horses rise to the challenges we set before them,
asking little in return.
Those who know them understand how fully a horse can hold a human heart.
Together, we share the pain of sudden loss and the lingering taste of long-term
illness. We shoulder the burden of deciding when or whether to end the life of a
true companion.
In the end, we're not certain if God entrusts us to our horses or our horses to
us. Does it matter? We're grateful God loaned us the horse in the first place.
And so we pray:
'' Dear God,
After You've enjoyed a bit of jumping, please give our fine horses the best of
care. And, if it's not too much, might we have at least one more good gallop
when we meet again?
Amen''
APPLEJACK CODY
AQHA/PHBA STALLION

On November 7th, AJ was released from his arthritic knees to run free on the other side of Rainbow Bridge.
I was his human for 20 years and I will miss him so much. He spent his last two hours grazing loose in the side yard and flirting with the mares, Sugar and Star. He enjoyed his last hours on earth, for sure. Run free AJ..... RUN FREE.
We'll miss you but we'll see you again on the other side.

Dear sweet Appy. She was the BEST lesson horse.
She lived out her last years in retirement... in near darkness, as she was nearly blind.
Everyone loved her so, and took such special care of her, helping her to find her way.
She now runs and sees Rainbows on the other side of the Bridge.
ABOU BEN
ARABIAN GELDING
It's always hard to say goodbye.... so let's just say, until we meet again, Ben.... until we meet again.
Gale on Skippy
going over the trakehner jump at Laughing Fox Farm, Binghamton, NY. Sadly, we
lost Skippy on April 12, 2004 to colic. His cecum had intertwined itself
around the large intestine, and formed an adhesion. Although Cornell could
probably have repaired the damage, Skippy would never be comfortable again.
So we did the humane thing. I am thankful that I had that one last great
ride on Skippy, just the day before. Knowing now how long he must have
been uncomfortable, I am even more proud of this brave, honest horse.
We all miss this special "do it all" horse.
He gallops freely without pain now on the other side of Rainbow Bridge.
I miss her so very much.