Legend

NEWSLETTER Volume 2, Number 5, May 2005

I usually look forward to writing these columns and to sharing my thoughts on matters equine, and I was especially looking forward to writing this column. I had planned to write about my old gelding Legend and to celebrate his long and eventful life. Then, unexpectedly, Legend died last month just a few days before his 30th birthday, April 13th. Still, while this may not be the joyful and lighthearted story I had planned to tell, Legend’s life is definitely worth celebrating.

Registered as Supreme Legend, Legend was bred by an Arabian breeder back east and purchased by my friend Harriet as a yearling in Port Republic, New Jersey. Originally purchased as a stud prospect, Legend produced one foal, a Quarab filly who went on to be an award winner. Harriet decided not to keep him as a stud, but he certainly had a varied and busy life. When Harriet and her family moved from New Jersey to Idaho, Legend came with them. His new quarters were on a beautiful 80 acre ranch in North Idaho, with plenty of trees for shelter, not too many flies (compared to New Jersey), plenty of room to run, and a classic old log barn for shelter in the winter.

Legend lived with Harriet and her family for 23 years. He was ridden in dressage, on pack trips in the mountains, and most especially in endurance competitions, all mixed in with a healthy dose of pleasure riding. Legend was a well known figure in this part of the country, for years people would exclaim to me, “Oh I know that horse!” Indeed Legend did live up to his name. For all the miles that Legend logged, and he was an experienced horse by any standards, he was also one of those characters for whom each day dawns anew. Legend was a wonderfully quirky horse. He would rear at lupines he encountered in a field, but I once saw him practically rub noses with a moose who ambled up from our pond into the horse pasture, sending the rest of the herd into commotion. After over 20 years of living in the same barn, Legend still shied at the switch from dirt floor to wood, he still refused to cross a certain line in the pasture, and he never could figure out which was his stall in the barn unless led right there. He was always the first in the herd to spot something different, and it was always cause for concern. Many times I’ve seen other horses stop, look at what Legend was seeing, then sigh and go back to eating. Legend, on the other hand, would stare in the direction of the offending object for hours as if fixed in a trance. Legend was an anxious horse. I always believed that he was extremely intelligent, but that his anxiety got in the way of his thinking clearly. Legend’s motto was always to panic first and stop to think about it later. It was a trait that, in part, earned him his “Legend” status. As a younger horse he was reactive, even volatile, and it took an experienced and competent rider to act as his leader. But he was also the sweetest, most generous animal you could ever wish to meet, and he had a wonderful sense of humor which he displayed with other animals and humans alike.

Legend came to live at our ranch when he was 24. Retired from endurance competition in his late teens, he was ready for semi-retirement and I needed a companion for my old horse Deep. (Deep and Legend had been pasture buddies at Harriet’s farm for over a decade, so it seemed fitting that they should stay together in retirement). Legend spent the next six years with us, outliving Deep, and adapting to a new, younger herd. I rode him occasionally around the pasture, he gave my husband Steve his first riding lesson in years, and he was the horse that little kids could ride around on, or whom adults who were afraid of horses in general would feel safe to brush and handle.

Legend enjoyed excellent health for nearly all of his life. In his late 20s, the arthritis that had forced him out of competition a decade earlier began to worsen and he would stiffen up, especially in the winter months. In spite of 24 hour turnout, he was less and less willing to move around with the other horses. Then in a freak situation, he got stuck in a soft spot in the pasture, his front legs sinking down past his knees. Although he was able to get himself out of the mud, he never seemed to recover physically or emotionally. A few days later, he colicked and I had to make the hard decision to have him put to sleep. Legend is buried on our ranch where he enjoyed his last years, relaxing and teaching us all some valuable lessons about compassion and gentleness. Some friends gave us an apple tree, which we have planted by the barn in his memory, as a kind of sentry for the herd. Legend is sorely missed, but I realize that he was one of those lucky horses who had essentially one owner all his life, the best of care, and a great deal of love for many many years. I can only wish other horses the same fate.

Anna Banks, Editor womentalkhorses.com
Anna Banks
editor@womentalkhorses.com
Moon Hill Ranch, Idaho