Docs Touch O Gold

March 20 1983 to November 15 2005

 

It was July of 1989 and I wanted a guide horse of my own. It was OK riding the stables horses, but you could never count on which horse you would ride all day. So if every one tacked up with their own tack and horses ended up switched, well you were stuck with some one else’s saddle that was not nice to you. Anyway what girl does not want a horse of her own?

 

My husband (then boyfriend) had just let a big, grade, palomino walking horse pass due to stringhalt and heaves. What a wonderful personality he had though. Good thing we only had him on trial for two weeks! So Bill had a real interest in palominos. A friend who new I was looking and knew Bills palomino lust told me about a nice quite horse he had seen at a cutting show. So we packed up the trailer and drove from the Pocono’s to NJ. My hometown to be exact.  Hmmmm, was it fate?

 

I tried the little palomino QH and many others. Drive two hours and you must try them all.  There were others that handled better, rode smoother, showed more interest in me, and rode out much smarter. Butt the little palomino had the right price and look. 15.1 was a nice height for a five foot woman. He sure did have nice conformation. No chrome to speak of but he was quite enough for my husband. Yeah right.

 

I paid a deposit and we loaded him up. He settled in for a day or two. Then I went to work on my little horse. Cleaned him up. Set him up with his own tack. He was a bit cinchy, but that was no big deal. Handled him all over. He would tie anywhere, or just stand anywhere you needed to work on him. Pick up a foot and the rest would come up in the correct order for you to pick. Later found he was a pleasure for any farrier or vet to work on. Well so long as you were not floating his teeth or worming him.

 

Off to the trail then. Oh what a lemon I had bought. He was barn sour. He could balk all day. If there were other horses going he trucked right out though. So at least he would go to work herding the city folks around. He was very doggy, talk about using your legs for forward movement. Don’t get off and expect him to keep up. Dragging my yellow horse down the trail as I tried to help a rider on a moving horse was a joy. He was quiet that was for sure. He was also a wimp. Any horse that would shift their weight and an ear at the same time as we passed would send him flying off the trail in terror. Even the 36-year-old 13-hand kids pony could put the fear of the devil in him. He did not warm up personality wise either. He did what he had to do and that was all you got. While not an overly spirited horse, he was not the quite good broke horse my husband could ride. Oh and catch him, yeah good luck there. If the herd came in he would also come right in, into his stall he would go. Try to go out and remove him from the herd. Not very likely! He was trained for reining and roping. He was just started as a cutting horse when I bought him. Well to get any move out of him spurs were needed. He could spin if you hyped him up with a bit of spur action. Not my style though. Well maybe roping was his passion. Rope in hand we found a nice straight spot on the trail. I started him like he was in a box, threw the rope, one quick check of the reins and step off. Never even thought about slowing let alone sitting down to stop. I put my leg back over and knew he was not a roper either. Tried it in the ring just in case he did not get it on the trail. Same reaction though.

 

Well by this time he was paid for. It was either work it out or for sale he would be.   He sure was pretty. Sound with long lasting conformation. I decided to work it out. He learned to move along side with me first. An all day project on a day off. Well at least he retained it. From then on he would keep up with me at any speed. Then every chance I had we worked on the balking. That took months to totally cure. And it only worked for me. He would still balk for anyone he thought he could. And buddy he knew who he could and could not pull stunts with. He learned that the dressage whip I carried was for his protection on the trail. I was not going to use it on him except as an extension. He could trust me to show the whip to all known kickers and bitters on the trail. The rare occasion things went wrong he seemed to understand and forgive the missing protection. Finally he would pass all horses on the trail. Well there was always one horse that could not be passed by any guide horse. So that was to be expected. Spurs gave my legs a break. We played with bit until I found one he seemed to like and even enjoyed playing with the rollers. Eventually we lost all metal in the mouth and he was even happier. But that came later.

 

OK so now I had a decent guide horse. Quite to work around and not afraid of anything but other horses on the trail. But he was still not the horse I wanted. I could still not catch him. But it was easy to just let him come in with the herd. If one horse was in then they all were in. So it was not really an issue at that time. However, he was not bonding to me and I was not bonding to him. He was not the warm friendly horse I wanted. It had been almost a year. Spring is a good time to sell a horse so in the paper he went. I would find a less flashy horse that was looking for a woman to play with him. Doc, as he was called by then, was looking good. He had been working hard. We spent 5 to 10 hours on the trail, 4-5 days a week. On my day off I would take him out into the big world and we rode everywhere. Usually we put in a good 4-6 hour ride. I must admit he trusted me enough at this point to do anything I asked. Even riding along tractor-trailers and over a 4-lane highway on a solid ground railroad bridge. Over hills, through water, he would quietly jump obstacles, if unsure I would just get off and lead him across once and he was set to do it himself from then on. I had spent a large amount of time being with him. He was always groomed flawlessly, it did help that he was not fond of dirt. He preferred to roll in the sand ring and I would lead him there at the end of the day to make him happy. I did all the things a girl loves to do with her horse and he really did not care. When people began to call and come out to try him I changed my mind. Watching Doc work, I saw what a great moving animal he was.  At the price I got him I must give it one more shot.

 

It was not long after that I changed jobs and was working with thoroughbreds. Instead of keeping Doc at home where there were lots of horses but not much pasture, I kept him at a friends on the way to the TB training facility. The training barn was an hour away and Doc was 45 min from my home. There he had a lot of down time and spent a lot of "just being a horse" time. Doc had a monster App as a friend and a pleasant place to live. He certainly seemed pretty happy. I would see him every day and was spending most of the weekend with him. Still pretty cool to all people though. He was always improving under saddle though.

 

Another job change led me to working for a photo studio a couple miles from home. So Doc came back to home. However I boarded him at a nearby stable with lots of turnout and riding opportunities. I would head out in the morning to sell the photos I took the night before at Pocono Resorts. I would stop to see Doc first. He was out by then and I had to catch him to give him his treat and bug spray. I kept brushes and such in the car and would stop to brush and treat him some times after camera sales if I had room shoots to do. If no room shoots then I could just play and ride. I would also frequently stop for treats before or after dinner shoots. All this chasing him just to be nice finally paid off. He was never sure when I was planning on working him, treating him, or protecting him from the bugs. He was never a problem to catch again.  He even learned to come to my call over time.

 

Finally we were getting somewhere. Then one day it came out of the blue. He just decided that I was OK. He would come to me. He would look for me. He would meet the car in the morning. We were hanging out together and having fun. While he never was a "Let's Go For A Ride" kind of horse, he was willing to humor me. He was always an even-tempered horse, but his personality really began to shine. He was not a real creative horse, but he had a great sense of humor. If he were more ambitious and creative he would have been trouble around the barn. Most of his games were simple. He favorite was to stick his tongue out the side of his mouth and tempt you to try to catch it. Once you did you were to pull on it until he got bored. I would see him trying to get other horses to play this game. He did not get creative until his last year or so. I think his little Shetland friend, Koda, was teaching him. Three times in his last year he came up behind me while I was bent over the water tub cleaning. Yeah horse head in the butt and push.

 

We were good friends for seventeen years. Even though things were rocky at the start Doc was my best friend for some real tough times. I find it much harder to just grin and bear it since he has been gone. We are getting there though. Nine months later I am beginning to train my new pony. A pony who arrived as a loan to keep Koda company and will be staying forever. Domino belonged to the veterinarian who took care of Doc his last couple years. An Appaloosa Shetland cross who is large enough for me to ride and just green broke. So he is keeping my mind on him and not the past.  While not the serious rider of the past, I hope to have some good times with Domino in the future.

 

Fat Boy will never be forgotten, I will miss him always..