Dedication and Insanity Meet pt. 4 Daybreak's Story

We had nothing left to do but load the horse and drive back, except....Daybreak hates horse trailers has a history and a no I won't load, game on his agenda. Here on this back road on the Mass. New Hampshire border I do not want to be part of a 3 hour loading event. Our trailer is new to us by just a week, not long enough to paint the black interior white. It is a gaping black hole I know our horse won't have any inclination to step into. The farm owners, my brother and the police are having quite a time talking about the events of the night as I ponder getting this horse back into the trailer and back to the host farm. Tim indicates that his Cowboy Mounted Shooting pistols ( http://www.cowboymountedshooting.com/ ) are securely locked in the truck cab and the trailer is ready for a horse. I ask an officer to move a cruiser and use a spotlight mounted on the door to light up the interior of the trailer as Daybreak is not likely to step into the dark hole. He smiles and obliges happy to see us taking steps to move the horse out of the street. I am envisioning the long effort to get him on. Don't think we haven't tried all the training techniques, natural horsemanship skills and equipment on a given day all have worked or not worked because it is not a fear issue it's a chess game and Daybreak is the equine equivalent of Bobby Fischer!

With the police lights still flashing their split second rotations and the night amazingly lit by them and all the headlights it is a rather festive aura over the street with the happy reunion of horse and rider. Daybreak knows when he has an audience, it is a valuable tool in his arsenal of make the owner look foolish any chance you get. Tim leads him to the trailer and he loads in a split second. I leap forward and close the butt bar to secure him and then the ramp and upper door we are set to go. My relief is huge as I climb into my truck cab with Cindy the owner of Bridge Meadow Brook Farm, our hosts. Tim and his uncle pull away with trailer and again as we drive I marvel at how far our crazy horse went to party. Cindy is graciously playing down her part in this adventure of lost sleep and worry. I am incredibly grateful to everyone and we talk a little about the night. It is here that she tells me the police clocked Daybreak on the radar gun down the yellow lines of the road at 42 miles per hour. He is a hot rod, cruising speed until the police come along side and then gunning his engine to sprint ahead hooves pounding pavement like a racing heart in the night. He came out to play his top game and found worthy opponents in those brightly lit cruisers. Cindy reported the awe with which they spoke of Daybreak and how in disbelief they heard his age and could not believe this was an old horse. Of course 25 in a Morgan Horse isn't old, it is seasoned to perfection. It is experience to bank on and practiced flash and gamesmanship. Score one for the Morgan Horse and Zero for the Tyngsboro police. It was only by using cruisers to build a chute in the street and another to race him there that they effectively drove Daybreak up the road and into the field. They never would have been able to lay a hand on him, it wasn't in his game plan. I am grateful Daybreak didn't consider jumping the cruiser like the loose horse in the Disney classic "Horse in the Gray Flannel Suit" That movie horse and Daybreak would have been fast friends in more ways than one!

We roll up the long dirt road that leads back under the pines of Bridge Meadow Brook Farm. My brother parks the trailer and he and Tim go to unload Daybreak, NO! he stays in, we have had all the games we are going to play for one night. Remember Daybreak hates trailers, he shows his displeasure with this decision by having a 2 year old tantrum. He begins jumping up and down in the trailer rocking it and making it move. The emergency brake is set but I can just see it in my now vivid imagination the trailer and truck rolling back into the swamp and me getting wet feet, again. I open the front door, "knock it off!", and settle down I croon to him and shine a flashlight on his face. We give him hay nets and water buckets and I tell him, " Sorry old boy you are in for the night!" I send Tim to bed in the tent, you can't ride safe with no sleep, go now it is 3 a.m. I send my brother as well, he needs to drive the truck safely home after the days competition. I lower the truck tailgate and wait for Daybreak to settle down so I too can garner a couple hours of well earned rest. If the flashlight beam drops from Daybreak's face the jumping resumes, I can't believe he is carrying on so. Get over it, a few hours in the parked trailer won't kill you if a night racing the police hasn't. Still the bouncing continues and so I get comfortable figuring a few minutes he will give it up, I'm delusional!

At 6 a.m. the tent zipper made the long whine of opening, I didn't hear it. My brother stepped out into the gray of early morning and the cold nip of the frost that was settling. Mid October is sure to paint the pumpkins and anything else a laced coat of white in the night. What he sees makes him go back to the tent, retrieve his camera and take a picture. I am there on the truck tailgate flashlight in hand curled up asleep under frosty saddle pads. There is a point when you can sleep anywhere, I found it that night. There is not one thing to be said for sleeping on a corrugated metal tailgate that's good! I had a foam pad under my head and saddle pads over me. They are wool and sort of warm although short on coverage. I am allergic to horses, the hair can't be good but warmth was more important than a clear head. Daybreak is happily munching hay, he nods a greeting. Not long after we are all awake. Once Tim is functional we decide we have to see if Daybreak is lame, a run on tar at 42 mph would do that. No he is fine. down in the ring he is enjoying the rubber added surface and jigging and showing off. A story of police escapades and missed adventures is carried through the slowly waking camp. A couple hours later we are back at the field of competition at Bridge Meadow Brook Farm. More and more riders are hearing what went on in the night and come over to ask in disbelief. Soon the guns are shooting the balloons and the riders come and go from the field. It is Tim's turn, I stand in the announcers booth watching him come into the field, jigging still. I announce," Our next rider is Tim Stearns and his horse U.C. Jailbreak! The laughter ripples around the field. I assume that the tired pair will do the course in a slower than usual time and yesterdays gains would be history. A few seconds later they flash past the final rodeo timer and a new best time is posted for the pair. The whole day was like that, me announcing the rides of U.C. Jailbreak, the story floating about the field. Riders looking at the old horse through new eyes and evaluating, there is more there than meets the eye!

Dedication to the sport my son had fallen in love with and getting them to participate fully brought us to Bridge Meadow Brook Farm, Insanity helped me through the crazy night and still see that the day should go on, sleep or not.

Post Script: Daybreak is enjoying semi-retirement at home with a eye on the gate in case we forget to clip the second lock on it, could be a party tonight, your place or mine. This blog was written in response to his sires induction in the Ct. Morgan Horse Hall of Fame June 11, 2010.( http://www.ctmorgans.org/ ) At age 32 U.C.Ringmaster filled the ring at the Big E Fairgrounds ( http://www.thebige.com/ ) with the eternal energy and showmanship of a Morgan Horse. ( http://www.morganhorse.com/ )

Dear God, Let It Be A Horse! pt.3

Dear God, Let that sound of a snapping twig be from our horse Daybreak not a BEAR! The night is so dark I turn the little squeeze light in the direction of the sound, nothing. I walk more, "Daybreak", I call out softly, hoping if it's a bear he doesn't like voices and will leave. I see a house off over the treeline and barb wire topped wall that surrounds the fields. Do they hear us out in the night and wonder who is creeping through the field. The lights don't change within the house only a single front light glows a pin point in the distance. In there they can sleep, in dry warm beds, Daybreak where are you fella?" That is when I see him in the bitty ray of light, he nods some form of polite recognition. I run the beam up and down his body he looks fine and my heart floods with relief. "Tim!" I call out into the night but the field so large my voice trails off in the immense wet space and there is no response. " I got him!" , maybe it was for me but I shout the declaration out hoping it would drift to his ears. I walk to Daybreak and extend my arm to take his halter, Tim has the lead rope. My fingers come within and inch of the leather and the head swerves up and away playfully. Ugh! " Daybreak, come on it's late, we'll go back to he farm come on. " He dances away a bit, it's game time.

Daybreak is a Morgan, descended from the Government breeding program for cavalry replacements, he is a thinking horse. He is thinking, let's make a fool of Mom and have some fun. It is a sorry thing, that as my feet squish and my tired body robbed of sleep stumbles in the wet grass, BUT I AM NOT IN THE MOOD FOR GAMES! Daybreak is, he lets me sidle up a couple times and nearly grasp the halter only to lift the head out of reach or turn enough to evade capture. How can one shift from desperately loving a creature to this moment of hate in a split second. OK ,so I don't hate the horse just 2 a.m. games of tag in the northern woods with no sleep and WET feet. In frustration I stuff my hands in pockets and feign disinterest this is a ploy that often works. What my hand falls on in the hay chaff filled pocket is a peppermint wrapper.

This might just be what it feels like to win the lottery. Pure joy, ecstatic, triumphant all rolled in one and over a little inch square of peppermint wrapper! Check Mate, I crinkle the wrapper, " I have candy..." I call out coaxingly. Daybreak was born with the world's largest sweet tooth. Most horses would attempt to stand on an ear for a peppermint. It is a perfect treat and one that comes wrapped in the most enticing sound, crinkling cellophane. Daybreak freezes, he looks in the dark night like one of the statues that dot the landscape at the battlefield of Gettysburg. He is erect and proud, ears are pricked forward intent on the goal, candy!

I grab and my fingers wrap around the leather face piece, GOT YOU! At the moment I realize I plan to have the arm ripped from me before I would ever let go of this halter, he was my prisoner and my salvation. For in a few moments a reunion with my son and the glow of finding a best friend nearly lost will warm me to the bugger once more. Right now we have to get to Tim. I turn and see the long field rolling away in front of me. We are in a top corner, Tim had headed to a bottom corner. I know which way to head as the police cruiser has several companions now and so many headlights and twirling blue and red lights pierce the night. It looks like a major crime scene up by the bar way an easy task to head back with the beacon as powerful as any lighthouse and then some. The uneven ground, my eyes having all the light come and go makes walking a bit more of a challenge. I almost fall but just spend a second swinging from the halter and Daybreak braces his weight to support my effort to regain footing. In that moment the look crosses his face, she isn't letting go, he thinks. He breathes out a long sigh and admits, game over.

I call out a couple times to Tim and finally see the beam of a flashlight bobbing through the field toward me, I see the glow of his smile before we are close. Daybreak sees his boy and picks up the pace. Once he has Tim and the rope is securely on his halter I become a useless accoutrement to the game. Daybreak knows there is an audience at the roadside and begins to prance in that direction. If you have never seen a Morgan horse do a park trot it is beautiful their fore arms coming level with the ground in an animated action of grace and style. Game over, was a reality but it had become showtime!

Like the mighty Niagara the adrenaline rushed from me in one huge swoosh and I was left with the tiny squeeze light in the middle of the field and boy and horse were off on the parade to the finish line. By now I'm nearly dragging my feet over each hummock of grass and look up to mark the police lights distance and back to the ground to watch my footing. I hear all the voices ahead Tim has arrived and everyone is happy to see him. His Uncle Steve had arrived with the trailer and we could get back to he farm. They all wait for me, the straggler to come up the field and then we all are getting ready to load Daybreak but Tim is anxious is eyes dart back to the trailer and me again, he is almost in a panic. " What?" I don't understand the glances. my mind is like sludge. " Mom, my guns are in the trailer, I was cleaning them before I slept, they're in there. " " Sooooo," I reply. " Mom, we're in Massachusetts!" Then it registers, toughest gun laws in the nation. He does know his laws and handling rules perfectly. Even though we only fire blanks a gun is a gun. I take the rope that's clipped on Daybreak. You just go quietly move them into the truck and lock it and I will talk to the officers and thank them for catching Daybreak. He scurries off and I pull the horse up effectively blocking the view. I am far to tired for a another chapter in our eve that includes explaining exactly why we have two pistols in a horse trailer with a boy and horse.

Dedication -Insane Part 2

Panic isnt pretty but there was no one to witness and if I lost it now we might lose Daybreak forever. A deep breath and I pulled the cell phone from my pocket. I called the farms owners we needed help and they needed to know where all the little logging roads and inlets went. Roused the said they were on the way to help. Next I dialed 911 and waited, "State Police state your emergency" , "Our horse is missing and he was right near Rte 3, near the exit, can somebody get out there and help look for him before he gets hit and someone gets killed!" There is a pause, Ma'am Tyngsboro police reported a horse loose awhile ago, please hold while I patch you through......" I'm on hold for a police patch through as I walk up the dark dirt road back toward our camp, Im afraid I wont hear the police on the phone my heart is pounding so loud in my ears. "Tyngsboro Police, you're calling about a horse?" "Yes! have you seen him?" " Oh Yea we chased him....for quite a ways" I interrupt, where is he, is he safe?" The police are so calm and I cant stand that they talk slow and methodically, " He was put in a field on______ street, I've never remembered the name of the street, it meant nothing to me. I had never ventured past this farm at the exit from the highway. This I explained to the matter of fact voice slowly speaking on the other end of the line. "We can send a crusier over to show you where, meet them at the pizza place". " What pizza place I've never left the farm here!" Now Im even more anxious we are so close but to what good if I can't find the field. " Wait at the end of the driveway for the crusier to pass and follow him to he location Ma'am" , " I'm going, I have a black truck." I race up the dirt road now and find Tim and my brother and the farms owners. We've got to go now, the police can show us where he is, they caught him. We need to meet them at the end of the drive. My brother looked at me and then back at the horse trailer. It was blocked by another truck whose owners had left for a hotel for the night - great! He assured me they could jockey it out in a few minutes so Tim and I grabbed a lead rope and left in my truck, I spun the gravel in the farm road getting down the hill, I think my son was impressed!

There we sat in the truck at the end of the driveway with my heart pounding and racing and I saw the flashing lights coming. The cruiser flew past and pulled in a bit up the road - it was a pizza place. I pulled up next to his window, "Yes its our horse can you show us where you put him!" Could he hear the panic in my voice, could he see the strain on our faces in the night. Just who did he think pulled out of the farm driveway and followed on his bumper anyway. Away we went taking a couple turns I cant even remember, just thinking all the while, he's this far, he's this far and finally the cruiser pulled over and we right behind him onto the grassy verge of the back road. Thank God Daybreak headed in this direction not the highway. It was very rural, only one house in sight. We jumped out of the Chevy Silverado into the night and met the police officer who sized us up for a brief second, I could almost read his thoughts, middle aged Mom tends towards drama and panic and a big boy, crazy horse people. " So where is he?", I asked scanning the night and seeing nothing that resembled the outline of a horse.

The police officer let out a soft whistle like sound, "some horse he is," and looked inquiringly, "Stallion?" I laughed, "Noooo, it's my sons horse, he's old!" The officer shook his head, like he was thinking we weren't the right people or this wasn't the right horse. He pointed to a bar-way into a field. A farm bar-way with old ageing rails and barbed wire, The border a low stone wall with a strand of barb wire over the top. Typical fencing for dairy cattle, but it was obvious none had lived here this year the grass was waist high. Barb wire is a nightmare for horses if caught they fight, they get torn up in it, there is no end to the adrenaline pumping thoughts that enter my head. " How big is the field?" My inquiry is answered only by a shrug of the shoulders, he comments he will stay there at the roadside and watch the vehicles, I tell him our other truck and trailer will be coming, the farms owner knew where the road was she was to help my brother get the trailer out and come along with him. Tim has a flashlight, I have a squeeze light, one of those little things on the key ring, we are off to find Daybreak. The first thing I notice is a foundation hole from an old barn, it's big. I feel my heart sink, did he come running into the strange field and run right off the edge and plummet to death in the bottom... breathe and look , I send Tim to start off in the other direction so if its bad he doesn't see. Empty, the October air rushes back into my lungs, it's cold. I head off into the dark field as my eyes adjust, now away from the flashing cruiser lights I see how huge the field is 20 acres, maybe more, maybe 40 it slopes down and away in the direction where Tim headed following a path trod down in the tall grass. Could have been deer, could have been horse, could have been bear, Oh God! "Daybreak, here boy, are you out here, come on fellow", I call out, somehow my voice in the night air is reassuring , probably only to me.

I'm getting soaked. This night air is damp and the dew so heavy on the grass it was like it had rained. My feet are already soaked and squishy, I hate wet feet. "Daybreak where are you boy." My mind flip flops between finding Daybreak and how I hate wet feet and being wet in general and I'm pretty much soaked. Thats when I wondered, how many squeezes does a squeeze light have, they are like tootie pops, does anybody really know. As my exhausted mind played out the scenario of the bitty ray of light dieing on me my foot catches a clump of swamp grass and into the swamp I go, wetter now, nice! Daybreak, if I ever find you UGH! That's when I hear a snap, it was quick, was it my imagination? ( click follow to get Fridays installment in your in- box thanks, should be just one more chapter maybe 2 in this true tale)