The Buckskin Mare: Ellie’s Story

In the tradition of Black Beauty, Ellie tells her adventurous journey from a rejected outlaw to a beloved family horse. With sarcasm and humor, Ellie gives the reader an honest view of life as a horse in the modern world. Read an excerpt below.

By Alicia Schueler

I was not the nurturing type of horse suitable for a horse-crazy kid. I wasn’t kind and forgiving. I knew tricks and avoided work. I was barn sour and buddy sour. I often resorted to biting, kicking, rearing, and bucking. The horse-crazy kids that came to our pasture fed treats to the gentle and friendly horses. The kids talked happily and scratched the horses’ itchy spots. The kids even picked grass on the other side of the fence for the horses that nickered and made sweet faces at them, those saps. When the kids came by, I was always as far away from them as I could be, on the other side of the herd. I usually had one rear foot cocked and ready to kick out, my ears swiveling to listen for approaching footsteps. I was ready to pin my ears flat against my head if someone approached me with a halter.

In the spring of 1987, one smiling young teen girl entered the pasture with her dad and Bill’s friend. They approached Sunny, Bill’s dun mare. The girl petted Sunny and gave her treats while the dad and Bill’s friend talked. This girl had all the typical markings of a horse-crazy kid. She looked at all of us with joy on her face. She was about average size, and wore tennis shoes, jeans, and a t-shirt. She had glasses and her hair was kind of scraggly, but she didn’t seem to care. The dad was not comfortable with horses, but he loved watching how happy his daughter was with Sunny. It would have amused me to move closer to intimidate the dad, but I was feeling lazy. I don’t usually take note of anyone that comes into the pasture, but these people seemed to think Sunny was for rent. That surprised me. Sunny had arthritis and Bill had recently retired her. I will admit that I hoped he would pick me as his replacement mount. My hope stemmed from the fact that Bill had ridden me a few times to try to get me to be less barn sour after the incident with Big Man. I was still in trouble after dumping that last renter like a wheelbarrow full of poop. However, Bill had brought home a young horse just a few days before and had obviously selected him as his primary mount.

Despite that, he still doted on Sunny. I figured she was safely retired. So, why were these people petting Sunny? They didn’t stay long, but returned the next day with Bill and another person that I learned later was the stepmom of the teen girl. This time, Bill shook his head when they pointed at Sunny and then? He pointed at me! Uh oh! The dad continued talking to Bill as he eyeballed me. I had my typical angry, suspicious demeanor. I was leaning on one hind leg while the other hind leg was touching the ground with only the toe in the ready-to-fire position. Sometimes that just means a horse is resting one of their hind legs. I, however, was using it as a warning. See that, buddy? Cocked and ready to fire off a kick. I gave the dad a hard stare. He frowned in response. I noticed that the girl was approaching me. Oh, great. I waited as she looked me over. Her smile never faded as she looked at my back. Hmm, she must be ignorant. She kept coming, so I raised my head and tensed up, ears slightly back. I was about to pin them flat when she pulled out a carrot. For me? Nah, this kid’s wasting her time. I’m no horse-crazy kid’s dream. I have issues. Move along, little one. She broke the carrot into pieces and approached me quietly at my shoulder. Okay, I’m not stupid, I took the carrot. She petted my neck as I ate. She was beaming at me. Those glasses can’t be working right, kid, I thought to myself.

Bill came up with the halter while giving me a warning look. Oh no, this won’t end well. They brought me into the barnyard. Bill showed the girl how to let me smell each grooming implement on each side, before using it, to keep me from biting. She obediently let me sniff the body brush on my left side and then carefully brushed me down. She let me sniff it again on the right side and did the same. She did the same with the curry comb, which has always been my favorite, and the finishing brush. She did a decent job and knew to go with the direction of my hair. She’d had some basic training at least. Okay, so I’m up for a decent grooming before she runs away screaming. She used the hoof pick to pick out my feet and did fine because Bill told her to be sure not to give me too much slack. Good job, Bill, I’m easily tempted. Bill spent a long time saddling me up and explained about the difficulties in fitting my saddle properly. The girl focused intently on his every word. Bill saddled up his new gelding and the girl climbed into my saddle. She sat well and I didn’t sense any fear in her. Bill led the way, and she steered me pretty well. She seemed to know all the common tricks, so the low branches and passing grass snatches were not an option. She didn’t react badly when I spooked to test her. She seemed genuinely concerned that something frightened me, and we stopped to look at it until I was ready to move on. I pretended to be studying the “scary” bush and then reached down for a snack. She pulled my head up and I felt her heels just nudge my sides instead of giving me a big kick. Okay, that was minimal, so no crow hopping this time, kid.

Bill increased the pace and checked back with us. I gave him my best “What?” look. I was being good. I surprised myself. If this kid was renting me for the next month, I might be happy, especially if she brings carrots. But she better not plan to take me out alone. Bill pushed his gelding into a canter as we headed for the loop trail. I didn’t slow down as we headed back to the barn. Bill tried to stay ahead, but I passed him easily. His gelding was way too slow. My rider didn’t whoop or kick. She pulled back some, but soon gave up and enjoyed the ride. The dad was watching us come back with a grin on his face. I’m sure the girl was smiling as well. I think she knew I wasn’t supposed to run back, so she walked me out in the barnyard until I caught my breath. The dad and Bill talked for a bit longer and then shook hands.

That night the girl came back. It was when the boarded horses were being brought in for their evening grain. I had already moved the herd to the far side of the pasture for the night. The boarded horses trickled back with sweet smelling breath that I tried to ignore. If they wandered too close, I pinned my ears, swung my head towards them, and showed my teeth. Then I heard someone walking up the trail.

That’s strange. I sniffed the air. It was that same girl carrying a new halter. She smiled, came toward me, and offered me her outstretched hand. It smelled like grain! She held the halter open while trying to arrange it. I shoved my nose right into it, surprising her. This wasn’t riding time. This was grain time! She smiled and laughed as she led me back to the barnyard. I walked quickly and nickered a few times to reward her for the promise of feed. Rental horses never get grain. What a treat! Sure enough, there was a bucket set up in the barnyard with a generous scoop of grain. She petted me and talked to me while I ate, which wasn’t the most unpleasant experience.

The girl came the next three nights in a row, using a two-note whistle to tell me she was coming to get me for my grain. I listened hard for it at the expected time and made my way toward the barnyard in anticipation. By the third night, I was waiting by the gate when she arrived. She didn’t try to ride, yet. I was sure this wouldn’t last after our first real ride, so I tried to enjoy it while I could.

The big surprise came the next day. Bill loaded me up in the metal poop box. I hesitated for a moment, but my alfalfa hay was inside. I neighed frantically to my pasture mates as Bill drove me away. Several horses, including sweet old Sunny, neighed back. Off we went down the highway past my pasture. I watched it flash by through the slats in the trailer. After driving for about the length of a short trail ride, Bill pulled over, unloaded me, and led me up a steep hill with houses on either side. Yep, mystery solved. I’ve been sold, again.

You can purchase The Buckskin Mare: Ellie’s Story on Amazon.com