Mustang VS Domestic

Years ago, 20 plus, I purchased a Golden Retriever. I'd stumbled upon an ad in one of the big dog publications for a breeder here in WA. It was listed in a town a couple of counties south. Lucky for me I had an uncle in that same town, and with that uncle, a telephone book. Mind you, this was before the internet was in every home across America, so telephone books were as close as you could to a Google search. We looked up the address, and off I went.

I drove down long and winding roads until I happened to find the residence of Dick and Ludell Beckwith. Sadly, no one was home. But I left a note on the door, and later that evening I received a phone call from Ludell to tell me that indeed, they did have a puppy available. It was one that had been reserved, but a divorce had taken place, and the soon to be ex-wife had called just that week to say they'd not be taking the pup.

I had no idea at the time that I was talking to whom some referred to as 'Grandma Golden', the matriarch of the golden retriever breed here in the northwest. I had gotten quite lucky, and as they say, timing is everything.

The pup I met on my return visit wasn't quite what I was looking for, however. I wanted a show dog, and this particular girl had a cowlick down the center of her face. She was pretty enough and conformationally correct, but the cowlick was a huge detraction. And all my dog books said "Buy the best you can afford." Well, she was certainly at the top of my price range, but there would be more pups, right? So I left.

Later that night I received another phone call from Ludell. "Tell you what," she said, "I have another pup. I was going to keep her. But you seem like you're serious about this, so would you be interested in a co-ownership?"

You may be wondering what on earth this has to do with mustangs and domestic horses. Well...it's in the lessons. That co-ownership with Ludell opened doors. I got lucky that day, as I later realized. Years after leaving the dog show world, I started making phone calls for my sister, who was searching for a new dog. Ludell had passed away, but the good breeders knew and respected her, and that co-ownership I had with her made otherwise closed doors open.

Fast forward. I want to cut. I want to show that mustangs are able to cut. But my little mustangs get little respect, and in all honesty, I don't know what I'm doing out there. So what to do? Buy the best you can afford, and team up with someone who's respectable. Okay...I've got the team, but as much as the cowboy is amused by my tinkering with wild ones, he insists that if I'm serious, I need a serious horse.

Enter Kitty, a five year old Quarter Horse that the Cowboy had started a few years ago. She's not been ridden much at all in the past couple of years...once every two to three of months, at best. Her owner had others that were a priority, and Kitty stood in a stall doing not much of anything. But on this one day, when I told the Cowboy that maybe I'd be interested in replacing Steve Holt! with something that could cut, his eyes lit up and he sent me out to 'saddle that mare'.

To Be Continued...