Lucky, a horse
Don Coldsmith, Syndicated Columnist
Monday, March 30, 2009
IN 1971, when I started to write this weekly column, we were pretty active in the horse business. The editor of the old weekly Emporia Times had asked me to write a column about the 4-H clubs with horse projects and the area saddle clubs and their activities. That eventually evolved into this general interest, all-purpose column, so I hope I may be forgiven for reverting to one about a horse.
There’s an old saying among cowboys that a man is allowed, in a lifetime, one good woman and one good horse. (I assume that simile is true for the cowgirls, but that isn’t covered in the saying). I have to say that as a family, we’ve been privileged to have several good horses. But the special one for me was undoubtedly a mare we called Lucky.
We were actively involved in breeding and showing Appaloosa horses. I was acting as a part-time breed inspector for the national organization. We wanted to expand our herd a little and I was looking for a few young mares for breeding stock. I studied bloodlines extensively, rejected a couple of big name breeders because of what I considered poor breeding practices. We found ourselves in Nebraska, looking at some daughters of a national champion, Copper Dollar, one of the most versatile horses I ever saw. They used him to work cattle on the ranch, to ride for pleasure and in performance competition and he handled it all equally well.
We spent considerable time there, looking at Copper’s foals and checking their pedigrees. Finally, the owner said jokingly, “I’d sell you old Olive Oyl, there!” Olive was probably the ugliest mare I ever saw, but out of curiosity, I read her records. I was astonished. She had produced a number of highly superior foals and their photographs showed a lot of what we wanted. One of her daughters had won the national champion trophy at halter as a 2-year old. We finally bought a “four-horse package” Olive Oyl, her yearling colt and her current year’s foal. But what I really wanted was her unborn foal, sired by Copper Dollar and due the following January. A colt born early in the year has a big advantage in competition for the first couple of years.
That foal was born in our barn six months later, on Jan. 13, a Friday. What other name could she have but “Lucky”? It was a little bit disappointing that she was a nondescript mousy dun color. Appaloosas are NOT a color breed, but to show in breed competition, must be “recognizable.” Lucky, as she matured, became a nice strawberry roan, and recognizable. She wasn’t spectacular, but pretty predictable. Smooth — not always first place, but always near the top. She did quite well, considering that on our Mid-American show circuit competition, we usually were competing against a couple of national champions. In open competition in 4-H, Lucky had to compete against all breeds. We were laughed at by our quarter horse friends for our spotted horses, but the laughter changed in quality to some extent when Lucky began to win at performance. As far as I know, she’s the only horse to win the performance trophy at the Lyon County Fair TWICE, against all comers. She had a shelf full of trophies and ribbons. Our daughter, Connie, active in animal science studies at K-State, took her to Manhattan to participate in the horse activities there.
Lucky lost her eyesight as a fairly young mare from an infection that struck our herd. But she adapted well, knew her way around the home pasture and meant a lot to all of us. She retired. I could relate a lot of other stories about her, but there isn’t room. A horse is expected to live about 20 years, but Lucky just kept going. She left us one fall, on a warm sunny day in November. She was nearly 32, over 100 in human years. She rests, not a hundred yards from the barn where she was born. We still miss her, but she didn’t owe us a thing. She’d done it all.
See you down the road.
Author and columnist Don Coldsmith lives in Emporia.
kittenslvsu (anonymous) says...
I think sometimes we over look the diamond in the rough because there beauty is not there, however when the sun gleams on them for just that moment they give us a reason to take a second look. I as well own a few horses, and the one thing I have found is that sometimes the diamond in the rough is the one worth the most.
March 30, 2009 at 6:32 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )