Pure gold
I’ll always be grateful that I stopped when I saw the “Horse for Sale” sign that brought Nugget into my life.
Ido not need another horse.” I have a shirt that states that, repeated three times. Every time I drive past a “Horse for Sale” sign, these words reverberate in my head. After all, I have only three stalls in my barn.
Coming home one day a few years back, I had almost reached my private road when I noticed a “Horse for Sale” sign at our neighbor’s place. Once again, I was unfazed, at least for the moment. But by the time I’d gotten to my driveway, my usual mantra had been replaced by a new one: “Go back.”
So I did. A lady met me as I stepped out of the car to ask about the horse. I already owned two Appaloosa mares, so when she said it was an Appy gelding, I said I was interested in seeing him. Still, I was steeling myself against the temptation. But as he came into view, being led up from the pasture, my heart broke, and tears clouded my judgment. Every rib was visible, and his withers and spine stood up in a sharp ridge that ran down his back. The gelding stood in front of me, his head hanging low, uninterested in his surroundings.
I was told that they had just taken him in from another individual who had left him in a pasture to fend for himself, eating only whatever grass was available. I petted him, looked into his sad eyes and reached for my phone.
Years earlier, I had made this identical phone call after a friend hadad told me of an Appaloosaoosa mare for sale. I had three horses at the time but already had plans to sell one. And the mare standing before me then had horrendous burns over her buttocks. We never learned what had happened to her. My husband’s initial response when I called was, “We don’t need another horse.” But sympathy prevailed, and after eight years of good care, her scars had all but disappeared. She turned out to be a fabulous horse.
So this time, when I called about the gelding, I wasn’t sure what my husband would say. We were down to two horses and had a third stall, but still…. “You’re not going to want to hear this, but you have to come see this horse.” He must have heard the urgency in my voice because this time he never questioned me. He came right over, and it was clear he understood my concern.
Just to be safe, we called a veterinarian for a health check to make sure there were no underlying issues contributing to his condition. The horse’s feet needed trimming and his teeth weren’t in good shape, but ultimately the veterinarian’s opinion was that the gelding was in pretty good health---just in serious need of “groceries.” We were told he was about 200 to 300 pounds underweight.
So we made the deal, haltered our new gelding and walked him slowly across the road to move into the empty stall next to my mares.
Rest and rehabilitation
We named our new charge Nugget, for his golden color. Feeding him was my first priority. It was a real challenge at the beginning because hunger made him aggressive: He bolted toward his food, ears back, and I had to move quickly to avoid serious injury. But I fed him small amounts of hay and grain frequently throughout the day, as the veterinarian had directed, and once the gelding started gaining weight, his desperation to eat eased. Eventually, I taught him to let me kiss his nose before any feed was given.
As the months passed, we addressed all of Nugget’s issues, and his health gradually improved. As he gained weight, his coat grew glossy and the
sadness in his eyes disappeared. Our bond grew stronger with every moment we spent together---and I lavished plenty of time on him, loving on him and speaking to him, telling him how one day we would ride out together.
When I bought Nugget, I was told he had been a trail horse. So after our first year together, once he was back to full
I quickly discovered that Nugget could be ridden, but he seemed to have only
one “gear”—reverse.
health and soundness, I decided it was time to saddle him up and see how he did. I quickly discovered that he could be ridden, but he seemed to know only one “gear”---and it was reverse.
I called a trainer, and with repeated sessions, we soon had Nugget on the right track. But it would be another full year before we would be ready to hit the trails.
Once I started riding Nugget out on the trail he soon showed me that the time and effort I’d invested in him had been well worth it.
A full partner
During our time working together on the ground, we had built a bond of trust in each other and become a true team. What’s more, Nugget’s ability to keep me calm was helping me relax while I rode other horses---and it certainly helped to protect me during one serious mishap on the trail.
I was riding out with friends when, no more than a mile out, I felt Nugget’s back end slip. I had no idea what was going on and assumed his back feet had just slid a bit on the gravel road. I waited for him to walk on but he stood still.
Suddenly I saw the ground getting closer, rising to almost meet my left stirrup, and I realized we were still sinking. I had no idea what the problem was, but fear never entered my consciousness. Time slowed to a standstill as my mind struggled to make sense of what was happening. My friends were riding behind us, but if they called out to us, I never heard them. I was completely focused on what was going on.
I felt Nugget struggling, but he did not seem panicky. Why was he struggling? I spoke to him calmly, telling him it was OK, to take it easy. He continued to strain as I spoke, and after scrambling with his front legs, he finally pulled himself up. Once he was solidly on all fours, he began to shake. I continued talking to him in a calm voice and petting his shoulder, then I asked him to walk forward a few steps.
I stopped and turned, and to my amazement, I saw that as we were crossing over a culvert, a sinkhole had opened in the road under us. The gravel had given way, and Nugget’s left rear leg had slid into the hole up to his hock.
I dismounted and checked his leg. He had several cuts and was favoring it. I also peered down into the hole. It wasn’t just clean gravel---the exposed surface was cluttered with fragments of torn metal and broken cement jutting in all directions. The slightest bit of panicky thrashing could have resulted in disaster---and, I realized, had I been unseated, I too might have fallen back into the hole. I hugged Nugget and cried some tears of relief. This day could have ended so very differently.
Nugget’s cuts weren’t deep, but he was sore. Slowly we walked the mile back to the trailhead, flagging down a park ranger to notify him of the danger on the road.
Once at home, my veterinarian assured me that Nugget needed nothing more than pain medications, antibiotics and bandaging. He had no broken bones or injured tendons, just cuts and some muscle strains. After a few weeks of healing, he was back to normal.
I’ll always be grateful that I took the time to stop for a “Horse for Sale” and that I brought Nugget into my life. We are a true team, and I look forward to more days with trails to explore.