Before there was a Hope Horsemanship, there was Khaleesi and Wyoming. Before Khaleesi and Wyoming was Faygo and she was the seed, the mare who first captured me. Khaleesi is the first horse I started, and Wyoming is my first mustang and the most complex horse I’ve tried to help. These two are my foundation, and from these grew my passion to explore horsemanship as a priority above a particular sport or discipline. From them came Hope Horsemanship.
The first horse I brought into the family under Hope Horsemanship we named, appropriately: Hope.
Some of my readers may have followed the journey of Hope from her arrival as a discarded rescue (returned twice and then left to languish in a field at a lesson facility) in December 2020) through her descent into illness, the multi-year struggle for her healing and eventually the release of her spirit (July 2024). This sweet little quarter horse mare actually came with the name Sugar. When she seemed to have nothing left to give, she was discovered by a friend who saw something in her sweet nature, decided that she deserved another chance and contacted me thinking she could be the perfect fit for the plans I had for HH.
It seemed right to me, and I agreed to take her for a very small price, sight unseen, over the phone. No pre-purchase exam, we were just going to bring her home to give her a different life, and I hoped she would bring something to the future of Hope Horsemanship. I hoped she would be a horse gentle with kids and patient with newbie adults.
The little mare was compliant, certainly shut down, and I was glad to bring her home to get to know her. There were clearly physical issues – she was what I considered at the time held together by duct tape and bailing twine and we began working with her gradually, taking into consideration that she needed care and patience.
I was told she had a reputation of refusing to work with riding students- becoming obstinate, fighting against any direction that didn’t carry enough force, and even crow hopping or bucking to “get out of” whatever she was asked to do. I was pretty sure she had been trying to communicate “I can’t” more than “I don’t want to.” We never saw that side of Hope, but clearly she was a deeply shut down horse. This was one reason I decided to take her. I didn’t have a shut down horse and wanted to learn how to help them.
I do have some fond memories of seeking out creative ways to help her to engage and trust. Iva and I did lots of undirected work like riding on the buckle, encouraging her to access curiosity, express opinions, have actual choices, and we wanted above all to get a message through her exterior barriers that she was safe with us. She did come out of her shell at times and we loved when it seemed like she was trusting us with opinions even if the opinions were not so great!
I thought she was the future of Hope Horsemanship, and for a season she did some easy trail rides, helped some kids learn about ground work, and even got to be hand painted in a kids camp. Through all of her time with us, she was adored, loved, fed carrots, and was a favorite of the kids who came to visit. She had lots of reason not to trust or like humans, but she always held a gentle nature. Those who had the opportunity to know her were fortunate and all who met her felt her loss.
Looking back, I don’t have complete clarity on the unraveling we experienced with her. I was sure she would only improve, get better, eventually thrive with our love and care. There is still a lot of mystery in the life of Hope. When I try to make sense of it, I believe a life of deep stress and fear alongside seasons of neglect meant she had a compromised immune system that never fully came right. When she arrived, she had mucous that came and went, but never fully cleared up. In the time she was with me she was moved (by necessity) four times and she was incorporated into a larger new herd and then removed again. In fact, in that short season, there were many factors I did not have control over that created extra stress for a horse that was compromised. In the moment we can only respond to what is in front of us, however looking back, I wish I could have given her more stability than I was able to.
We had her tested for everything from respiratory illnesses to tick borne illnesses and did not find an answer to solve the complications. We tried various treatment options and instead of improving, she get worse. I reached out to a functional vet team closer to the D.C. region and wondered if a more sophisticated team could help. This meant a 2+ hour haul for consultation on a warm early summer day. When I stopped to refuel close to the destination I was appalled at the condition I found Hope in. She was drenched in sweat, unsteady on her feet, but I knew there was no going back, it was shorter to the vet complex than to return home. Still, I was concerned she might not make it to the vet appointment alive.
I called ahead to let them know what to expect. She did not die en route. When she was released into a stall she laid down completely spent. I had brought Khaleesi along who was none the worse for wear, so it was not the ride itself, it was the condition of the poor mare that made the travel so hard.
Hope did not die, but was too weak to travel and stayed on as a patient of the vet team for three weeks.
Hope was an internal web of imbalance. The only clear illness we could pinpoint was exposure to EPM which we treated over time. She stabilized to come home eventually and all I had was “wait and see.” The vet team knew she was deeply unwell and had tried all they knew to help her. She may come around and heal, and she may not.
The sweet mare did live another year or so but she never recovered to stablility.
During that time, I was deeply convinced she would come right. I had invested in faith money I didn’t “have” to support her with vet care far beyond her “worth.” We would give her the love, the medical care, the dietary support, and her story would be beautiful.
She was Hope. She was our future.
She had to overcome and be the horse that ushered new young people into a love of horses and teach them basic care and horsemanship. I always love the underdog, and this mare deserved a happy ending. I would do everything in my power to ensure it.
Hope is also my middle name. We hope for things unseen, because if they were obvious and current, there is no need to hope. For the things that are true now, we simply enjoy the experience of them. It seemed appropriate that our first Hope Horsemanship story would be one of overcoming a past of abuse, and a present illness into strength and healing. I believe in the power of a good story, I’m also strong-willed and stubborn. I refused to give up on her.
In 2024, I had to face that this beautiful creature was coming to a place where the struggle was too much to overcome. Each day I knew I was approaching the time to release her from this burden, yet as she continued to appear in good spirits through ill health, to eat voraciously and move about the yard with the herd, I felt the imminent reminder that death is coming, but each day it was not today.
The day I went to file her feet and she could not balance or hold herself up enough for me to attend to trimming her feet that I knew it was time. Letting her feet grow long would cause her more pain in time. She was trying but unable to stand.
I had to face the truth: she was not getting better.
It was wrong to make her stay any longer.
I am fortunate to have a neighbor friend who helps in euthanizing horses when needed. He had known Hope since she’d come to live with us and followed her story sometimes helping in her care when I needed a hand. He assured me, he also felt it was time.
As I grieved that little horse in the place she rested in the dirt at what is now our home base. I was glad she was at least put to rest here on the property that now serves as our headquarters.
Still, I had so many questions. Was she the wrong horse? Did I make a mistake bringing her here? Did I miss something that could have changed her story? Did all the changes I had to move through before we came home exacerbate her instability? Why the horribly sad ending after so much investment? Her vet bills were significant and in the end did not really change her future except maybe to extend her life- and I’m not certain that was to her benefit looking back. I did not understand. So much disappointment, and now Hope buried deep in the ground.
We settled into being a 2-horse family and Matt said he thought our little place here was a bit small for a third horse. For over a year we continued on without a plan to expand the herd until the Fall of 2025 when Matt began to entertain an interest in a horse he could work with and enjoy.
That’s when a gelding needing a home came across my radar. I was contacted by a local trainer who had adopted this little guy with another mustang from the BLM for a client. They began with the other horse, and then the project fell through before they got to working with the black gelding. She felt he would be a nice project to bring along, basically blank slate, but not particularly challenging. He had a nice demeanor and calm state of mind. She liked him but had no place for him long term in her program now.
Did I know anyone who might be interested?
We began to think he could be a match for us, and we decided to take him ourselves and bring him home. Now we have a new Hope Horsemanship family member and Matt settled on the name Honor. We believe he has the potential to be a good fit for working with those who have little horse experience, and kids. Honor is appropriate because it embodies what we hope to always do: honor the horse, and honor each other.
I have been reflecting back on the story of Hope this fall, the first horse I held so much expectation. Her story has felt like a waste of a beautiful life and a tragic ending that was clearly wrongly written. However now that some time has passed I have some other thoughts for this mystery.
I think of the words of Jesus
“Truly I say to you: unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life looses it, but whoever is willing to lose his life in this world will find life eternal.”
I pondered the parallel of this sweet horse who quite literally died and has been buried in the ground here at our headquarters for Hope Horsemanship. Even though I couldn’t make her heal and recover, I tried all the avenues I possibly could. I absorbed large vet bills I still don’t know how I was able to pay. For the most part, Hope did not serve us, we served her. From what I knew of her history, she gave all of herself to those who misused her before she was taken from the field of neglect to come live with us here. She didn’t have much left to offer except her brokenness.
I had hoped her story would be of miraculous victory, but instead seems like it was the story of getting an opportunity to walk out what I talk: caring about the horses above being a tool toward my own goals. We got to love her regardless of what she provided and serve her even when she only cost us. In time, I had to face releasing my hopes for her, and let her go.
I am grappling with a strange, sad, beautiful mystery that is just beyond my reach.
It’s hovering, and I every time I try to nail it down into a clear or definitive statement it dissolves into gossamer threads that don’t hold together. Regardless it feels there is something foundational in the truth that despite giving my all, this discarded beautiful creature did not flourish in health and strength. The threads I do feel brushing past my fingertips echo in soft whispers… they say things like maybe there is a story greater than the one I would write… maybe no matter how hard I try there are things beyond my control… maybe the dreams that get lodged in my heart are bigger, reaching not over a year or two, but a lifetime— even more than my own… maybe there is some significant truth about a seed being broken open in order for a harvest to come in time.
Maybe it wasn’t a mistake or a failure.
Maybe Hope was a gift. Maybe it was exactly the intended story that she spent the last season of her life being cared for after the humans before us took all she had. Maybe when that season came to an end, she made it to her final destination, being honored in releasing her into the ground and maybe her life broke open, planted at home, symbolically seeding a harvest that we are already beginning to see. The dreams I hoped she was going to be part of, now coming in a new season, with a different horse. A horse to honor her story and remind us to always honor the horses that weave through our community.
I don’t know what Honor’s story will be, it is much too soon to tell. I hope his story is happier. I hope he will flourish and thrive and have a good life being part of a program founded on honor and hope. Maybe the first Hope Horsemanship horse was not only a grief, but a reminder that this community is built on love regardless of what we get back in return. We remember with Hope, that we have an obligation to care for and steward the pieces of creation that are entrusted to us. She reminds us that the story is bigger than our immediate interests and goals.
These are foundational principles at Hope Horsemanship. As we bring horses into the human world, it is our honor to care for them and provide clear, fair, kind leadership. Hope Horsemanship began with a sacrifice of love. We got to live what we believe with Hope’s life and even her death.
Regardless what the next chapter brings, with Honor, I hope to be open to the mystery, to be patient with a long story that is bigger than my immediate ideas and goals. I hope for celebration and joy, alongside the ability to grieve with those we share the trail with too- because we know this journey is rich with joy, celebration, sorrow and sadness too. The beautiful mystery weaves them together, and the more I allow it to unfold, the more amazed I am.
Video slideshow YouTube link: https://youtu.be/heCPPRPgJ60?si=UMcv8-w47tIXwf_6
Hope Horsemanship 