Brandy

Funny how things go. I started a blog about horses we all loved and now I have inherited my mom’s favorite old mare.

Old Brandy has been running on Mom’s farm for many years. Some of you probably knew my mom, Betty McKenzie. Now her herd has been sold off and moved away and I always told Mom I would look after Brandy if Mom wasn’t here to do it and supervise having her put down as gently as possible when the time comes. But we aren’t quite ready for that big, bad day yet.

So this morning I brought her home and gave her the choice of who she would like to be her new friend. Although I thought she would choose our old retired broodmare, Sarah, it was quite apparent right from the start that she and my old 26 year old gelding George were having a case of “love at first sight”. They flirted and soon were off by themselves grazing side by side like they had always been together.

Old George travels his own speed and knows all the best spots to pick the early spring grass and where to stand along the big bush to sun himself where the cold north breeze doesn’t even whisper. He doesn’t like to be locked in the corrals when he can have big pastures of fragrant new grass to roam and graze. But he also knows exactly where the sheds and handouts are if the weather does get tough. Brandy will easily learn the ropes living with George.

It is appropriate that Mom’s favorite old horse come spend the last of her life with me. When I was young Mom and I spent countless hours standing in the barn watching some heifer calve or mare foal or pig farrow. Pretty near everything from the kittens to the foals were born in that little barn. And Mom and I were pretty much always there for the event. I probably saw more critters born by the time I was a teenager than some vets.

While Mom and I waited the hours away sitting on the steps to the loft listening to the critters munching hay and hoping for the sounds of a mare starting to foal (which would start our hearts to racing so bad we could hardly whisper) Mom would talk about her life as a girl on the farm near Strathmore. She loved horses much as I do – not really any wonder where I got it from – and she told me all the stories of bringing a bull home along the canals or the special traits of each of her saddle horses. Horses named Trouble, Nelly, Cigarette… I can still hear her telling me how they behaved as she started them under saddle or how fast they could run or how they could handle a troublesome cow.

But I don’t think Mom loved any of them more than Brandy. Brandy has that sensible, been there – done that kind of attitude that Mom always really valued in a horse. I know Brandy always brought a special comment from Mom when I would take her out to see her horses during the last few years of her life. Brandy was really special to Mom.

So now, I get to watch old Brandy spend at least a little more time in my pastures with George. These two old horses have soaked up a lot of love from Mom & I. And Brandy reminds me of times I thought I had forgotten like when Mom and I decided to teach Echo, who was known to have some attitude, how to ride double. And all those thousands of hours that we spent alone in the barn with the animals we both loved.

I am so lucky to have the opportunity to do this one last thing for my Mom. And seeing Brandy enjoying her days out in the pasture with old George who was my saddle horse for 17 years straight is particularly lovely. I used to ride him over to Mom’s quite often and he would stand perfectly still so she could pet him and kiss his nose.

So if you are driving by our place and see an old dun mare and an old roan gelding sunning themselves along the bush, you may think they are just a couple of old horses. But they are pretty special to us. I can still see Mom kissing their soft noses.

Lynn

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