Summit of the Horse

“Now is the time for all of those who care deeply about the land and the horse, to come together as ethical and moral horse people, and find ways to address ignorance and a lack of understanding by activists and policy makers.”

Workshop to help stimulate the equine economy?


Control Excess Wild & Feral Horses: Deal with Unwanted, Abandoned and Neglected Horses on All Lands.

Or an Unholy Alliance?



Stand up. Speak out. Be heard.

January 3-6 is Summit of the Horse, sponsored by United Horsemen.

"There are some that want to believe that this organization is all about slaughter, that is simply not true," says Dave Duquette, who is co-organizing the event, along with Sue Wallis.

Rep. Sue Wallis (WY) is a well known slaughter proponent. Along with Duquette, they have put together this four day event in Las Vegas to speak on a variety of issues facing the equine industry.

No one, I don't think, can argue that there is a huge increase in neglected and abandoned horses due to the current economy. Whether you want to blame the closure of slaughter houses as a contributing factor or not, abuse and abandonment are definitely an issue. I was speaking with the Animal Control officer in the county to the south of me one day, who said that originally she'd been cheering the anti-slaughter movement. But now? Now she wishes there were a more humane end for the sudden influx of horses she's dealing with.

'Clairol' and friend, Sale Authority mares who sparked my desire to start Mustang U

This month, both Range Magazine and Western Horseman have articles on wild horse management (check out page 5 of WH...it's Dibs!) Both are very practical, though despite my pro-gather stance, I found myself wincing at the boldness of those who felt the mustang a menace. I understand it...truly I do...who wants to have feral horses wandering down highways or standing beneath street lights in the suburbs?

But there is a value in the mustang's freedom that cannot be denied. Who's heart doesn't beat even just a wee bit faster when they catch sight of those who are truly wild and free? They are not only a symbol of our western heritage, but represent what so many of wish we could be. When a nation is feeling the effects of a down turned economy, feeling pressure from all sides with little hope, it's a good feeling to know that somewhere, even if it's on the drought ridden ranges of the west, the American dream still lives.

Juniper gets a little assistance from an older colt up on the South Steens HMA

So how do we balance it all? How do we create space on the range for family ranches who've had contracts for longer than horses have been protected? How do we keep wild horses inside their boundaries, and not destroying private property?

Is it right for people who do not live this first hand...those in Hollywood or nestled into an apartment in upper Manhattan...to make life altering choices for those in the west?

And is it possible, even in the least, to have humane slaughter? I look out my window and know for certain that had I not picked up Tika, she would be one of those candidates, as would the Paisley Desert pinto mare. And out there, somewhere in Oklahoma, is a beauty known here as Clairol...or Beaty's Beauty...who's life may hang in the balance.

But despite my trembling heart regarding these horses that I know and love, I'm a firm believer that slaughter can be made humane. As someone who raises a lot of their own food, I know that I wouldn't want my lambs or pig to be hauled several hours, crammed into a trailer or truck across the state, let alone the nation. Yet for some reason, this is what faced our horses. I know for a fact that if I were able to haul my horse directly to the same facility that I've taken my other animals to, that they'd be treated well and their death would be equally as humane as euthanasia (I've seen that go terribly wrong, I'm sad to say.)

I don't know that I could ever haul one of my own horses to such a place. I don't know that, if slaughter were reinstated, it would be any better than it was before. Either way, it will be interesting to see how this summit impacts not just slaughter and the domestic horse, but America's Living Legends.

Sunset Valley

I live in a valley, but I do not see sunsets. To the east is a large hill which, in the winter, delays the sun in it's morning appearance until 10 am. And by 3:00 in the afternoon it has slipped again from view, this time behind the treetops to the southwest of the house. Sunrise, sunset...sunrise, sunset...we never see either here. Not in a glorious blaze of color, that is.

I imagine, however, if I were to live on a road called Sunset Valley Lane, that things would be different...wouldn't you? I mean, would you name something Sunset Valley, if you couldn't see a sunset? Which is why, despite City Boy finding a near beating heart at the top of the ridge, nestled up against a bottle of beer, which in turn was leaning against a makeshift cross made of old, tattered silk flowers, I believe I just may want to live here.

Plus, it would shave 11.5 hours off my driving time to see the wild horses. Not that this is a motivating factor...

The home sits at the top of a knoll, surrounded by trees of all shapes, sizes and colors.



A most adorable little cabin sits alongside an old cattle chute. Perfect for the occasional overnight guest, don't you think?




The property includes 440 acres...its' long and, well, narrow by Harney County standards. It stretches roughly a half mile out behind the home. Be still, my heart...be still...



The silo has been converted into...guess what? A tack room! Perfect. Blissfully so.



Corrals and chutes are made of board and what I am assuming is juniper log (very prevalent in this region.)

No, I never did see a sunset while I was there...but to be fair, it was 4 in the afternoon. And there was sun... Sure, the current weather conditions for the region are a whopping -8 this morning, and that is without the windchill...but don't you think it's a fair trade off for land stretching a half mile...and sunsets?

Beauty and the Punk

We've been hit with a winter blast...and it's not even Thanksgiving yet! My timbers are shivering...I need long underwear. Or maybe it's time to pull out the winter coveralls?

When I climbed out of bed this morning (4:30 am, I do not know why I was up at such an un-Godly hour) my thermometer said 11 degrees. Can we say cold? I think we can.

For some odd reason, my horses do not feel the cold. Maybe it's all those middle of the night feedings I've been doing, adding grass hay to their usual 2 flakes a day alfalfa diet to help them stay warm on these frost bitten days. I decided to turn Tika and Paisley out yesterday for a bit. I led Paisley through the round pen gate, and before I could close it behind me, she shot out across the frozen ground...lead rope flying out behind her. Sigh...

Wasn't long before Tika joined her...Beauty and the Punk, dancing around on the frosty ground. Crazy mustangs.

I grabbed a few shots...and came inside for my hot chocolate and contemplated why my horses felt like celebrating, and I felt like hibernating.

They're wearing their blankets, and I'm wearing a sweatshirt and my heavy coat, scarf and gloves. Without my layers? I'd be frozen just as solid as the water buckets. But not my mustangs...

They fly and dance and carry on like it's summer on the beach. Which it is not. It's winter, and ice covers the ground, and I'm worried about breaking a leg as I walk across the same ground that they feel is a raceway.

Someone once told me that if you don't shave your legs, they'll stay warmer in winter. Maybe that's the trick? My horses don't shave their legs...and look at all the energy they have! This is something I may have to think on a bit as I sit inside and sip my hot chocolate...