Cherokee changed colors no less than four times in the short five-months we were blessed with her. It seemed that everytime we went out into the pasture, there was a new, strange horse in there, whose this we thought? Yesterday she seemed darker, today a lighter, off-shade of the original color. We never knew what to expect!!! Cherokee was born brownish in color with a nice blaze down her face and two white hind stockings. Suddenly, without warning, white hairs began to peek through yet another evolving color - reddish sorrel - so then Cherokee appeared, for all intent purposes, to be emerging into a "strawberry roan," for even her mane and tail began to develop flaxen, sun-tipped highlights. The sorrel wasn't happy so it deepened in intensity, becoming a shiny Liver Chestnut Roan. Well, the metamorphosis didn't end there folks, nope, - there was a point the Liver Chestnut was trying its darnest best to turn "smoky black," but then unfortunately, that was around the time she was weaned and had a new family waiting to take her home with them and that quick she was gone. I've often wondered sadly about her and if her color ever "settled down" and knew what it wanted to be when it grew up.
Dessi was a snow-white Pusher C.G. filly that was as "sweet" as mom, Vanilla. She was extremely trainable at an early age - I had her parked out and standing quietly still at three weeks old. By the time Dessi was only seven months old, she towered in size over Vanilla, so that, though in every other way she was Vanilla's clone, you could pick her out in the pasture just because she was so tall. Her Sire, Flash's Pushin' Snow, as a three-year old, stood 16.2hh, and I understand that Dessi's grandfather, the famous, now deceased "Pusher C. G.", stood over 17hh. She will fall somewhere inbetween, I imagine.
Legacy was our first stud colt on the farm. His mom was Dixie. He was extremely affectionate, people-oriented, and I can only assume that had we kept him, he would have made a remarkable and very manageable stallion. You know when a horse loves you. He loved us. And I will never forget his weaning and how traumatic and sad it was for everyone, including the rest of the animals on our farm. Our dogs were even affected. We had sold his mother, Dixie, to friends of ours when Legacy was five months old. I had at the time a young mare, Crystal Ice (direct sister of Vanilla Ice, WGC), who helped Legacy through this period of mourning as he wandered around in a dazed state, wondering where his mother was. Crystal moped with Legacy around the pasture, walking alongside him with her head down, not eating for the first three days, whinnying, calling Dixie with him. Everyone on the farm gave Legacy an over-abundance of affection during his weaning, but there was no doubt he was depressed. Crystal, though never having had a foal herself before, never left Legacy's side, and was always there to comfort him until finally he must have realized his mom wasn't coming back. I don't understand it when some people say animals don't have feelings or don't show emotion. They should have witnessed this and I guarantee their opinion would be forever altered, for there is no way you could say that a horse didn't come to the rescue of another knowing it was in pain or sad or definitely sensed something was wrong. Legacy will be deeply, sorely missed, this sweet guy, the kind of horse you look back on and regret that you let it go. The "big one" that got away . . .
Georgette wasn't born on our farm, but that didn't matter, when we acquired her, we loved her just the same until we sold her. I'll never forget going to a horse show in Collins, Mississippi months after I'd already sold the filly and then to watch my former young Georgette take a Blue Ribbon. I watched with mixed emotion: one moment I felt proud and happy; another moment passed, and then a strong, painful pang of nostalgic regret that here was yet another horse I should never have "let go." Watching the Judge approach her in the ring, I was wishing that I still owned this young filly full of promise and I feel bad about saying this, but I actually felt slightly jealous of the new proud owner sitting atop her, beaming with surprise for having won in a class of other, more experienced young horses. Georgette moved on to capture other winnings in her new show career and I really do wish her and her new proud owner the best of luck in the future!!! She was another sweet, sweet horse who loved people and enjoyed being handled and learning new stuff. We will always miss her and regard her as the "show horse" that got away . . .
As you can see, colors abound at Rainbow Walkers. For some reason, though I love all horses and admire all colors, I'm partial and have always been attracted to White Horses, ever since a young child. My first published book of Poetry that I wrote was called Dreaming White Horses. I could have named it anything, right? I blame it on these guys who stole my heart early on:
The Lone Ranger & "Silver"
