Friday, May 13, 2016

She's not for sale...




 
I'm thinking about selling Aces Tootsie Bar (Tootsie.) She is in foal to The Money Depot for a 2017 colt.
 
She is crippled due to minor navicular. There may also be some extensive inflammation or minor tears in her deep digital flexor tendon as well since she does not respond favorably to shoeing alone and her radiographs do not show any pronounced navicular changes. I have not opted for an MRI at this time. She is too big and bold and regal and the epitome of everything we imagine we'd like ourselves to be to reduce her to prescriptions and x-rays and shaving her legs to stick needles in them.
 
She will stay lame without expensive and thorough maintenance and even then her performance career will be short albeit sweet. If I sell her it will be as a broodmare only. It would be your choice to do any vet work as you see fit.
 
She was the reserve world champion in the barrel racing at APHA worlds. She was a 1D horse against any competition, in any ground conditions, in any pen. She'll run in the 1D bareback and with a halter; ask me how I know.
 
 
 I've shown hunt seat on her. She has a frame to die for and she travels with the collection and extension of a high level dressage horse. She's not a fan of jumping, jumping flower pots beneath fancy painted oxers is pointless in her book but it's okay because you can get away with a lot when you're pretty.


Most recently she was my head horse. I didn't really know what I was doing but Tootsie has always been smarter than me. They don't breed roping cattle to run fast enough for this horse. If you miss it's not because your rope was too short.

She was my first pick ranch horse when I needed to doctor yearlings, drag calves or rope bulls. She would drag a mama cow into a trailer like you didn't have anything tied on. All with only a war bridle. I've carried weak calves on her and she didn't so much as prick an ear when they came alive bawling and kicking her neck. She would run through cactus and mesquites, she has swam rivers and slid down deep draws. She could pick her way through the rocky outcroppings on the edge of deep plowed wheat fields. She was the most sure footed horse I have ever ridden. And tough. She wouldn't even flinch while I picked thorns out of her legs and sharp flint rock out of her hooves.


She's gentle enough for your grandmother and your infant child. At the same time. She has never spooked at anything and she's seen more than most. She doesn't do anything you don't ask her to do or that she doesn't already know she needs to do.

If you're an idiot she'll make you look good and if you think you look good she'll remind you that she's better.


She had a horse colt in 2015. It was her first one. I wanted to help her but she has never needed anyone to get a job done. She found herself a spot while I was sleeping, brought a little roan monster in the world, encouraged him to nurse then whooped off five mean old geldings until I could drag that spindle legged pile of hair and hooves into a separate pen. She moseyed a few strides behind us, watched us struggled and she smiled.

 
I'm not much of a horse trainer or a cowboy but she's put the bluff on a few old timers for me. Saved me from having to brag on myself.
 
I've never actually taught her anything about being a good horse. She just knew. And I guess that was her way of teaching me everything I needed to know about a good horse.