About that photo...

Who's The New Guy?
Mac, South, Wyatt, Hawk, Logan, Geronimo (l to r)

October of 2015, our dear, dear friend Jen in Virginia sent us the third of an amazing trio of Arabian geldings - her own treasured War Lhord. In our custom of giving new-to-us horses a "Hideout" name, we decided on "Geronimo" for this striking Mahogany Bay Arab. Born Goyahkla, “The One Who Yawns”, this young Chiricahua Apache warrior became known as Geronimo. As alternate form of Jerome, some historians think the Mexicans appealed to St. Jerome to protect them from Goyahkla's ferocity in battle. In essence, Gernimo was Cochise's war lord, so it seemed fitting. 

An amusing side note, when I ordered his bridle tag (each horse had their own bridle and these wee brass discs with the horses' name made getting ready for rides easier), the woman said Geronimo would never fit on the disc. So, we decided on "G'mo", laughing it was his "rapper" name.

We'd been in close communication with the shipper and were expecting his call early that Wednesday morning. Because the roads were wet and sloppy, the semi would never had made it down to the pens. Already hitched up, we drove to nearby Rodeo and met the rig in an empty parking lot. The driver dropped the ramp, telling us there was no lead rope. Craig, ever resourceful, found a strand of baling twine, and that is how Geronimo came home. 

 

Baling twine - don't leave the ranch without it...

Not the "lead rope" G'mo is used to...

 

 

Geronimo spots Logan...

 

 

 

Craig proudly led Geronimo from the trailer to the pen where he would spend a fortnight in quarantine, and we stood back to watch the fun.

After hours in a trailer, G'mo was happy to stretch his legs, strutting and jigging around the pen. Of course he rolled in the desert mud. He and Dash, our farrier's horse who was just hanging out with us, exchanged pleasantries, and decided the other wasn't a big deal. Well, G'mo thought G'mo was a big deal, but Dash really couldn't be bothered. 

Mac looks smugly on, clearly having set the example for Mud Rolling...

Dash wasn't terribly impressed, to Geronimo's chagrin...

Then - the boys showed up...

At first, just a few of them realised there was someone new, someone to whom they must immediately convey The Rules. Then, all five of them showed up and the conversation began in earnest...

Mac, South, Wyatt, Hawk, Logan, Geronimo (l to r)

Mac was a big blood bay who came to us from a neighbour in the Valley. His backstory is heartbreaking. As we were given to understand, Mac was used by the Mexican cartels to transport drugs across the border. All over his left side are indentations left by the bundles being strapped tightly to his body. We soon discovered he was "cinchy" on that side, but who can blame him? 

Some of the scarring is plainly visible...

South was purely a sympathy purchase. This big bay reminded Craig of his Calvin, and so he paid WAY above the ceiling I set. Despite only having him out a handful of times, South was a guest favourite on the ground and around the Livery. Bless him, the calcification on his knees protruded several inches forward, and his back legs looked like dark brown parentheses. We had to teach him how to accept love and gushing - and treats. But he sailed through those classes and became part and parcel of the ranch.

His poor legs...

 

Wyatt had been with a couple of different friends in the valley, so everyone knew him. And most everyone had ridden him. Despite Charro and Flaming Arrow, "Elvis" simply wasn't a Hideout name, so this lanky dark bay became Wyatt. He was just the best. Guests loved him. He was a solid citizen out on trail, and just a joy to work around. There are more than one entertaining Wyatt Stories in the Annals of Hideout Ranch Adventures, and they will be told. 

Wyatt was a long drink of water...

Hawk towered over everyone, even Wyatt. He was enormous, actually too big for me to ride. His whithers were unbelieveably high, and my saddle would have pinched and rubbed. (We learned one rather eventful trail ride how Hawk reacted to pressure on his whithers...) He had grown up in Wyoming, riding trails and working cattle, and we talked Josh into leaving him with when he had to go back for a bit. We had several guests take Hawk on trail, and he even had a starring role in a "reality show" filmed here on the ranch. He was big...

Hawk, or as I called him, "Biggun"...

Logan was an incredible horse, left in our care so Josh and I could leg him up and put some miles on him - you know, wet saddle blankets and all. He was anxious, but grew to trust us. Some of our more advanced guests spent days with Logan, on trails and on the schooling ground. He was a joy to ride, to school, to be work around. Though truly a "horse of a different colour", Logan was an integral part of this particular herd. 

My sweet, sweet Logan...

 

So, now you've met the crew in what could easily be one of the greatest horse photos ever taken. Seriously, if I came across this in a catalog, I would be ordering it. I was snapping away with my phone, recording Geronimo's arrival, and was lucky enough to capture this phenomenal moment for all time. 

The most poignant aspect of this breathtaking moment is none of these amazing horses are here with me anymore. Geronimo is in a new life in Michigan. Hawk and Mac are in Wyoming with Cap, Craig's Mustang. South, South I sent on just ahead of Craig so he could walk without pain, run and not hurt. Logan and Wyatt were taken out by lightning, the culmination of a horrific week which left Craig weakened by the unimaginable stress of losing four cherished beings - and having to tell me about them. 

But I have this photo, this wholly unplanned moment in the lives of an astonishing group of horses, of magnificent beings who graced our lives for as long as they could to remind me how blessed Hideout Ranch has been...

Daddy's Boy...

Calvin, on the farm in Virginia...

Calvin was Craig's boy. A big dark bay out of the Impressive line (the good Impressive, not the HYPP-carrying Impressive), his registered name was "Impressive Caliente". He was schooled in Western Pleasure, experienced with cattle and on trail. Calvin held the distinction of being part of the Sheriff's Posse in the Tucson Rodeo Parade, the world's largest non-mechanized parade. 

Calvin was always the King, with Kansas his Heir Apparent, and he only answered to Craig. Well, until I became Mommy, he only answered to Craig. One afternoon, I was in his stall with him, combing burrs out of his mane. He snaked his head around and snarled at me. I popped him on the cheek with the comb I was using and used my best"Mom" voice to discourage his nonsense. He certainly looked at me and asked, "And who do you think you are?"

"I'm the Mom, that's who!" I will admit to chuckling...

Calvin rather enjoyed stall life...

When we got to the ranch, Calvin initially lead the boys, reigning over the front pasture. We had to pull him out for some reason - medication or maybe extra feed. While he was out and away from the boys, he saw and fell in love with Naja, our beautiful true black Arabian mare. We decided to put him in the pasture with Naja - and Hopi, Lozen, Mickey Free, Kachina, and... Tell. For the longest time, Calvin was king, chastising Tell for picking on the girls. We pulled Calvin out for some reason, then after a couple days, put him back in.

Craig found him the next morning standing, defeated, in the furthest corner of the pasture. He was savaged. Beaten and bloody, gashed and kicked, the only thing we could discern was Tell had finally had enough of being told what to do, and he showed Calvin, the "old man" who was now in charge. We treated Calvin, and just let him wander the ranch with Peppy for company. 

It sounds harsh and brutal, and it is. But nature often is far more harsh and brutal than we humans would prefer. There comes a time in every herd leader's life when the younger ones challenge and assume the mantle upon victory. Tell eventually ran Naja and Hopi out of the pasture as well. His herd consisted of Lozen, Kachina, and Mickey Free, Po Campo, Bolivar, Lippy, and Mouse. He truly didn't want anyone else in his kingdom. 

Believe me, what Tell wanted, Tell got...

Calvin...

Calvin expressing himself in his inimitable style...

Among our early guests was an amazing couple. Meredith was in her late 70s, and her husband, Ed, was perhaps 82. We went to Horseshoe Canyon one day, with her on Sambora and him on Calvin. I know I had Tonka, and Craig was likely on Clavo. Anyway, after lunch, Calvin pulled a shoe and I stepped in to say no, I will walk him back to the trailer. He was not to be ridden. (Calvin endured very tender soles, and I could not allow him to be lamed. So we switched tack and put the gentleman on Tonka. A few jigs around the field where we were, and Ed exclaimed, "He's certainly got pep!"

So Calvin and I walked the entire way back, more miles than I care to think of remembering, still, his hoof didn't get too badly chipped up. 

There are more Calvin stories which I will tell as I get to them. I do have a special reason for writing about him now, though. And I ask you to humour me...

Not many of the horses were keen to go in the Livery, but Calvin was King...

 

"Mom, if this goes on social media, watch out next time you ride me..."

 

Five years ago, about the middle of August, I was humbled to witness the bravest, most courageous act of love ever between horse and human. Calvin had tweaked his back so while his front end would walk forward, his back end went sort of sideways with his right leg not operating at full function.Sport had done a similar thing, and there is just nothing you can do for them. Because Calvin was so long-backed, it rendered him ultra vulnerable

 

I had gone out to feed The Pensioners after my coffee. It had rained during the night, so the ground was damp. I found Calvin down in the middle front pen. From the churned up dirt, I could tell he had been struggling for hours to stand. He was lying on his "good" leg, and was exhausted. Heart in my throat, I raced in to tell Craig. Mind you, Craig was never ever ever ever ever able to make "that" decision regarding his animals. Ever. He left that up to me. On Calvin's behalf, I insisted and Craig finally, reluctantly, agreed.

 

I went back out to check on Calvin while Craig took the backhoe to prepare his beloved companion's resting place. What I found furthered our heartbreak. Calvin had pushed and pulled and scooted himself through the gate of the pen and out into the open. Standing there, watching, I saw this horse fight against a failing body and stand up the very moment Craig came around the trailers from his sorrowful toil in Tell's pasture.

 

"The sign said 'All You Can Eat'...

 

Calvin did not want his daddy to see him on the ground. He wanted his last moments on earth to be upright, wobbling but upright. He wanted his Daddy to see him standing, on his own power, facing his farewell as he had faced his life. Proudly. Bravely. Head on.

 

It was the single greatest, most selfless proof of love I have ever seen. Craig dissolved. I dissolved. Josh dissolved. Still, Calvin stood like a statue, saying goodbye to the man who loved him so deeply. 

 

Four years, and the tears still flow to recount this unprecedented feat.

 

Calvin near Balance Rock at the Chiricahua National Monument...

 

Craig said his goodbyes, then went to hide in the office. Josh kept me upright, then tended to the details afterward. I took a goodly section of Calvin's tail for a memento to be created for Craig. He didn't know I had done that, so the look on his face and the tears in his eyes when he held his boy's tail in his hand again fomented a fresh flow all around. 

 

And Craig holds his boy in his hand forever more. Just as Cochise was buried with his favourite horse and favourite dog, so Calvin and Cleat are with Craig. 

 

Four years, and the tears still flow...

 

 

 

Snacktime at the Livery...

Calvin (r) and Sambora (l), reigning monarchs of Hideout Ranch...

Calvin and Tonka help themselves...

Mose side-eyes Calvin, plotting to overthrow him in the Brat Pack...

Tonka and Calvin prepare for a photoshoot...

Calvin and his favourite rider, Craig...

The quintessential cowboy photo - Craig and Calvin escorting Woodrow and Run to the water and their new grazing range...