Friday, January 20, 2017

Mo Dough The Great

On a spring day, in 1983 a little brown colt was born with a little white star on his forehead. In that same year, many states away a married couple were in the process of buying their dream farm. And in this random universe, of uncertain things it was as if destiny was set in motion for this little horse. Because in five years,this same couple would have a daughter and this girl would dream of having a horse to call her own.


It has been about 7 months since we have lost Mo and it still is a very hard thing to face. Perhaps it is because I had to lose Dingo before him that makes the loss greater. I am not sure. In the beginning, I felt like by the act of him passing took everything away. Of course I know this isn't true because all our great memories are in my heart forever. And I find solace in remembering our times together. Because my parents allowed me to get this great horse I am the hardworking woman that you see today.


All I can ever remember is just wanting a horse of my own. We had a family horse called Ginger. And even though I liked her she wasn't mine. I remember spending the summers reading those Saddle Club books and just dreaming of all the adventurers I could go on if only I had a horse. But the folks said a horse takes work and fences and money and time. And I being young had no money for a horse but really wanted to put in the work and dedication that came with owning one.


So right around freshman year, I joined a 4H group. I had been in 4H before when I was younger and showed our beloved family dog, Abby. I ended up taking horse riding lessons form a wonderful lady who lived in our area. I remember going over there and being amazed at all the horses she had and all the things she did. It was around this time that my horse teacher brought back this little brown horse. He'd make an excellent lesson horse, she said. And she asked if I wanted to see him I said sure. His name was Mo Dough. I know that I had to have her repeat that because his name baffled me at the time. Later I learned that he came from a great line of racehorses with pedigrees and all that jazz.


I was excited because I got to ride him for lessons. He was a kind and patient horse. Very forgiving to  a new rider and really helped my confidence grow. I think I knew from that point that I'd really like to own him. So arrangements were made that I would work him off by doing chores and cleaning the stalls for my horse teacher. Those were some days filled with a lot of hard work. But all the motivation I needed was knowing that after I completed my time I would be a proud horse owner.


It then became March and due to the other horses picking on Moe  we all decided it best that he come home early, to my parents farm. So there I had it this scrawny brown horse was settled into our back pasture. For the first week, I believe, he didn't run. He really didn't do much. But of course I just loved him so much and cared for him every day.. And then one day he began to run. He’d zip all over the pastor and across hill of the pond. It’s like he remembered that deep inside he was a racehorse.


I know that life isn't a fairy tale but what Mo and I had was magical. My horse teacher helped me out greatly by helping me haul him to events and continuing lessons. I am forever grateful to have come across someone like that. I enrolled Mo in shows and we competed in the summer fair for 4H. Mo loved our little shows because we were in it to have fun. Sure ribbons are cool but what is cooler is having a relationship with your horse and accomplishing your goals together. I rode him down the dirt roads and we raced in the dirt fields, pretending we were at Churchill Downs.


And then those summers were over and I had to grow up and move away. But I'd visit lots and see Mo a ton. It was this time in my life that I realized what Mo was a product of the racehorse industry. Where horses are a dime a dozen. I am not against horse breeding but it is sad when these athletes are abandoned.


But see this is where Mo's destiny was greater than that. I was the one that got to own him and made sure he had the life he deserved. My parents played a very big part in that too. We aren't the richest but Mo always had hay and grain. And most importantly he was loved.


When I would go back to visit, it was like not much had charged. Mo was there happy but growing older. I knew that the day would come. Letting go is always so hard and I had to make sure this great horse would have the peace he deserved. My peace is knowing that he had the best retirement possible and was part of our family.


My partnership with Mo makes me dream of a day I have own more rescue horses and change their world for the better. I hope one day I can teach people to ride and enjoy horses as much as I do. And I know pretty soon my own daughter will be begging for a horse of her own.

“Saving one horse won’t save the world, but it will change the world for that one horse.”








Abby & I