Champing at the bit for time with Horsepuppy
Gentle creature makes friends up and down the streets of his neighborhood
Horsepuppy, the 14-year-old appaloosa with the funny name, is such a gentle animal that when he grew tired of being led around his paddock by 5year-old Zia Davis recently, he didn’t rip the lead from her hand. Nor did he stop walking in defiance.
“Instead, he carefully stepped on the back edge of Zia’s size 4 shoe and stopped her in her tracks,” said the horse’s owner, Julia Mclernon, known to everyone as Rabbitt. “And he stood there quietly while she hopped and protested beneath him.”
That gentle intelligence is part of the reason Horsepuppy is so beloved among residents of the Northwood neighborhood just inside Loop 410 and just north of Alamo Heights. The horse, who unlike most spotted appaloosas is solid dark chestnut, is so well known that he’s become something of a neighborhood mascot.
Children seem naturally drawn to his sweet personality and love stopping to pet his long snout while walking with their parents. Many, such as Zia, took their first pony ride on his back (something he dislikes but endures), and most everyone thrills to see Mclernon riding him down Northwood’s leafy, typically residential streets.
Lequinne Ferebee is a friend of Mclernon and Doyle. Before the pandemic, the retired telecommunications executive said, Mclernon would often ride Horsepuppy the 2 miles to her house. She was often startled by his intelligence.
“Once, when (Mclernon) went into my house to use the bathroom, Horsepuppy started in like he was going to follow her,” she said. “I just had to say, ‘uh-uh-uh,’ and he stopped and turned around. It’s like he’s more than just a horse.”
Bred in Del Valle near Austin, Horsepuppy had a rough ponyhood. Because he didn’t sell as a foal, he spent much of his time with the other horses, mostly mares. They did not treat him well.
“Horses have a pecking order, and Horsepuppy was always at the bottom,” Mclernon said. “When we got him, he was covered with bites and kick marks from those mares keeping him in line.”
Not surprisingly, this poor treatment left Horsepuppy feeling none too generous toward his fellow equines. He craves human interaction instead.
Because Mclernon’s previous horse died unexpectedly, she was hesitant to take on another. But when she met Horsepuppy in 2013 she was smitten.
“I told my friend Julia Jerome about how puppy-dog sweet he was, how he followed you around everywhere you went, nuzzling your arm so you’d pet him,” Mclernon said. The next day, Jerome texted her friend,
asking, “How’s your horsepuppy doing?”
The name stuck, and now most everyone in the area seems to know Horsepuppy. A few years ago, after Mclernon posted signs in the area announcing Horsepuppy’s eighth birthday party, more than 70 people showed up.
“We didn’t even know many of them,” she said.
The legend of Horsepuppy almost came to an abrupt end a few years ago when Mclernon and Doyle, sitting in their den one evening, heard what sounded like an approaching freight train.
Within seconds, the lights went out, the skylight above was sucked up and out into the night, and the sound of crashing trees filled the air.
And then just as quickly, the tornado disappeared.
Shaken and scared, Mclernon’s only concern was for Horsepuppy. So she grabbed a flashlight and halter and ran outside to look for him.
“My fear was that he was trapped, dead or dying, beneath the tree trunks and limbs the tornado left behind,” she said.
Standing in the pouring rain, Mclernon eventually spotted the light’s reflection in Horsepuppy’s eyes. He was way out in the street.
“I made my way over to him, and he was standing, frozen in place, all four hooves in about a 2-foot square,” Mclernon said. “He didn’t have a scratch on him, but he was shaking violently with fear. I’ve never seen an animal so afraid, and I’ve worked in vet clinics for years.”
Although she didn’t see it, Mclernon is convinced the tornado lifted Horsepuppy up and over the fence, carrying him what she estimates was at least 30 yards before depositing him safely on the ground.
“I’ve spoken to ranchers and they say it’s not unusual for animals to be sucked up by a tornado and survive the landing,” Mclernon said.
Horsepuppy has since mostly recovered, although he now has a bad case of laminitis, a disease of the foot that can make a horse go lame. Mclernon blames it on the trauma of the tornado.
One way to treat the condition is to limit the animal’s intake of sugars and starches, so she’s posted signs along the fence line asking visitors not to feed him apples and carrots.
He may not like this new diet, but Horsepuppy remains the same kind and gentle horse he always was.
The neighbors like having Horsepuppy back. At least most of them.
While it’s legal to keep up to two horses on private property in San Antonio, one neighbor has filed several anonymous complaints against Mclernon and Doyle for keeping Horsepuppy on their property.
But while inspectors have visited them several times, the horse still happily resides in the neighborhood.
Area residents responded to the complaints by running a petition drive to show city officials how much they liked having the horse as a neighbor.
“The neighborhood horse has never, ever been a bother,” wrote one person. “In fact, you would never know an animal is living across the street from me.”
“My granddaughter loves Horsepuppy,” wrote another. “She greatly enjoys feeding him carrots … and having a ‘farm’ so close.”