Rescued horses, like people, come from different circumstances. This is most definitely the case with the wide swath of the unwanted who find their way to the safe embrace of Red Bucket. I have been fortunate to have ridden several incredible horses lately. They all know more than I do. All of them have at one time received the investment of a high level of commitment to their training. These quite remarkable horses have done their jobs, with varying results, and then found their way to Red Bucket for a myriad of reasons; over-training, injuries, behavioral…“mental” issues. Issues that were sadly man made. They are all good horses. Anyone would be lucky to have any one of them. They are all worthy of being appreciated, loved, and highly regarded. They have been damaged in a variety of ways and found themselves amongst the unwanted. All are different and have challenged me to grow in my mindset, in addition to stretching myself as a rider. For me, it has been a privilege to sit on them, learn from them, figure them out, help them….and most definitely discover a more intuitive relationship in the saddle. In doing so I have slowly…and somewhat awkwardly…shed a more mechanical and over-scholarly approach to riding. Individual and unique, these horses require something different from me as a rescuer, rider, horsewoman, partner and friend. I have learned…am learning…to listen, to feel differently, and to adjust my approach for each one of them.

We often joke amongst ourselves that the only arguments we have at Red Bucket involve naming our horses. When a horse comes to us they have nothing. At Red Bucket, they receive a bucket, a name, dignity, and a promise that really means something. A name is the first thing our horses ever really have that is their very own. While we certainly stop short at hair pulling, we do have robust and sometimes animated discussions about what to name our new residents. Aside from the ever important naming rights, we do not allow conflict or disruption to creep into or tarnish our horses’ home. We do not bicker; there are no arguments about who does what…walking a colicing horse, sitting up late at night, cleaning the stalls, or doing dirty work. Quite the contrary, the dedication of those who serve our horses, one another, and our community has never been stronger or more steadfast.

The recent rains had left our turnouts soggy and slick. A small “army of red” hand-walked, picked feet, and groomed until long after the stars twinkled down upon our little ranch. Behind the red curtain the small but mighty Ruby Red Committee and others supporting the success of our upcoming event, had been working relentless and exhaustive hours on finalizing a great many important details, at the expense of family time, recreation, sleep, and even meals. Our culture is one of selfless service, dedication, and a deeply held conviction that this ranch belongs to the horses, and the horses belong to us. These horses, and the many waiting to be saved and helped, are counting on our alignment and ongoing commitment.

In the spirit of serving the high-risk, we recently welcomed a few new horses to our fold. This set off the Rubik’s Cube of moving horses about to ensure that all needs were met. The impact of a few moves always has a wider ripple effect. A new sun pen needed to be built for Buffy, as she needs closer supervision (and attention). Robin and Dalton, needing to stay together, were moved to the back, as Olaf The Giant would only fit in their larger paddock. Corsaire needed a double stall….and Knox’s recent adoption opened his vacated spot as the “Feed Crew Supervisor” for Deaglan to assume. And on it went….Sudoku for the horse lover’s brain! Needless to say, we rotated horses, scratched our heads, and collaborated on the best possible scenario for every horse. The conversations and somewhat creative problem solving continued for a great length of time, as every move begged not only the question of which horse was being moved, but also the impact of the move on the surrounding horses…our operating values alive and definitely on overtime to ensure the best possible scenario for every horse!

With the horses settled into their new stalls and paddocks, I trotted one of my “special projects” down the street to Kennedy Pedigo Farms, for enrichment for him and much-needed physical and mental exercise for me. My mount had had his share of baggage; a splendidly bred sport horse…a blue blood of sorts, who had become dangerous due to over training and a complete lack of understanding him and his unique set of quirks and needs. The rain and cool fall day had left him full of himself, and being a super smart guy, he knew where he was going…and what he was going to do. He is competitive by nature, a carefully bred athlete…sensitive, and still a bit reactive. Dropping my knuckles to lightly graze his withers and slowing the cadence of my breathing, his energy…which felt like a boiling pot…slowly started to relax as I kept my seat light, body still, and hands light, willing him to relax and enjoy what he was now, after many months, longing to do once again. Once in the ring, he relaxed and enjoyed the rhythm. My trainer (one of the most behaviorally and intuitively aware horsemen that I know, Ron Kennedy) had me figure-eight a few fences…the picket…brown gate…and finish with the vertical out of the corner. Initially he was a bit quick off of the ground, because he was having fun…not being naughty. He tucked his knees, pricked his ears, and joyfully looked for the next fence. For those few fleeting moments, the athleticism that was contained at the level of his DNA was unlocked with the pure satisfaction of reclaiming a job which he was bred to do. Before he wanted to, I gently pulled him to the trot, and eased him to a walk. Sliding softly off of his back for the walk home, and a much anticipated graze across the street, Ron softly commented, “He is lucky.” Watching him eagerly pulling mouthfuls of grass, I reflected on Ron’s words, and agreed. Yes, thankfully at Red Bucket they all are lucky…but we are too.

thankfully at Red Bucket they all are lucky…but we are too.