Kobi- Memoirs of a Mustang Page 8

  “I bet you got whipped a lot then,” I laughed. “The only thing you look like you can do quickly is eat!”

  “I did.” Jake whispered, “I did.” I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it anymore because he plodded off to the other end of the pasture, leaving me alone to finish the rest of the hay. Without Jake around, it left me to my thoughts. How could humans be so cruel? I’ve been lucky to know kind people, people with good hearts. I saw the darker, hateful side of Lilith, but Daisy got me out of there before the situation became unbearable.

  Poor Jake. He didn’t have anyone to rescue him from that terrible situation like I did. I turned and looked at his hunched shoulders and hanging head. He’ll never have to worry about being whipped again. He’s found a good home now.

  The next morning when Daisy and Rex came out, instead of placing the halter around my nose, they caught Jake. Before they walked out of the pasture together, Daisy walked over to me and whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry, Kobi, I still love you. I just need to work with Brother Jake for a little bit.”

  Brother Jake? Now, you’ve got to be kidding me. That enormous beast is not my brother! I bet he doesn’t have even a drop of mustang blood in him. How dare you insinuate we’re related! Brother? No way!

  Of course I didn’t get to voice my opinion, not that it would have mattered anyway. ‘Brother’ Jake, indeed! They must be out of their minds!

  *****

  Just to show them how unhappy I was to have another horse stealing their attention away from me, I chased after Jake and moved him around every chance I got. Since he was a very lazy horse to start with, chasing him around took more energy on my part than his. That didn’t work out nearly as well as I planned, so I started nipping and hitting him with some well-placed kicks to let him know where he stood in the pecking order of my herd. Jake never once complained or tried to become dominant.

  Nothing bothered him. He just took whatever I dealt him without emotion. Pretty soon it became pointless, as well as boring, to show Jake I was the lead horse, since he was so obedient about it anyway. He just didn’t care. Since it didn’t seem that my new big brother would be leaving the herd anytime soon, we settled in and got to know each other.

  Once I got over my initial jealousy of Jake, he started telling me his long, depressing tale. In the evenings after Daisy and Rex went home, as we shared a roll of hay, he talked. He said he was only seven years old, but he had seen more pain and suffering in those short years than most horses ever suffered in their entire lifetime.

  Jake’s life had begun simply enough. He was born in Kentucky on a farm that bred and raised only the Percheron breed of horse. His mother was a beautiful dapple-gray mare, slightly smaller than most of the other Percherons. His father was a huge bay, the largest horse on the farm. The humans bred their largest horse with one of their smallest, hoping the stallion’s height would make up for the mare’s smaller size.

  But, surprise! They ended up with Jake: a bay Percheron with his mother’s smaller height and his father’s enormous head and feet. Jake obviously had mismatched body parts at birth, and his humans were none too happy about it, either. Jake was allowed to roam free with his mother only until he was weaned. After that he never saw his mother again. At the age of six months, he was shipped off to an auction house.

  Jake said he went through a series of humans before he turned three. That’s when he was sold to the logging company and his life took a turn for the worse. His training involved a thick heavy collar, worn low on his neck, almost to his withers. The thin straps that held the collar together, buckled at the top of his neck. There was a leather pad that was supposed to rest under the buckle to prevent injury and make the collar less uncomfortable.

  To make matters worse, his humans were also lazy and cheap, not wanting to take the time and effort to maintain his equipment or pay to get new collars when the old ones became too worn to be safe or comfortable. Poor Jake was not the only victim of their abuse, but of all the horses in their care, Jake’s abuse was the most severe.

  The leather pad was missing from his collar. That didn’t stop his humans from strapping the collar to his neck and taking him into the mountains to haul out trees. When the buckle started biting into his flesh, Jake would balk, refusing to go forward, because it hurt so much. When he balked, the humans whipped him across his flanks. He was stuck. If he moved forward, the buckle sent blinding pain through his neck. If he stopped, his hide was thrashed with a whip, cutting into his hindquarters and his ribs. Jake could only tolerate the beating for so long before he started pulling again, the metal buckle gouging deeper into his neck.

  By the time his workday was over, Jake was a bloody mess from the beatings, as well as from the buckle on the collar digging into his flesh. After work he left a trail of blood all the way down the mountain to his filthy, unkempt stall.

  Jake told me he wasn’t able to work for a while after that. His humans left him in his filthy stall until all of the signs of their abuse had healed in order to avoid someone seeing it and alerting the authorities to their cruelty. Being left in his disgusting stall for weeks while his body healed was not a good thing either. Day after day of neglect and standing in his own manure and urine took a toll on his feet. The filth became trapped in the hair on his legs and any little scratch on his feet led to infection. By the time the gash on his neck had healed, his feet were so infected and painful that when he stood upright, he could barely stand, much less walk.

  It was obvious to his humans at this point Jake would never have a career as a logging horse. The gouge in his neck prevented him from wearing the work collar to haul out trees, and treating his hoof infection was going to cost them more money than they felt he was worth.

  They had only one choice: get rid of Jake and let someone else deal with his problems. He was sent to an auction house before the month was out.

  Poor Jake. Life continued to be difficult. His mistreatment and abuse had been so brutal and so extreme he feared all things human. He jumped at every sound, any shifts in the light, afraid someone or something was going to hurt him again. The sights and sounds of the auction were enough to send Jake screaming and running away if he could. But, he couldn’t. The humans who ran the auctions realized the only way someone would be foolish enough to get involved with a horse his size, and with his fears, was to trick them. So, the morning of the auction, Jake was given a strong sedative to calm him down and take off his nervous edge. Their trick worked! Jake was sold.

  A gentle soul called Wyatt bought Jake and moved him further south, into Georgia. He told me that Wyatt was a kind human, almost too kind. He tried to rescue every sorry and pitiful horse he could find and rehabilitate them into functional horses again. Lucky for Jake, Wyatt took a liking to him. Under Wyatt’s patience and care Jake healed and developed some trust in humans again. It took some time, but through Wyatt’s gentle training, Jake could be ridden and could even jump across small streams or hedges for fox hunting. It cracked me up to imagine big, massive Jake jumping and chasing after a small, sleek fox.

  Wyatt was far too compassionate and took in so many horses that some had to go. Since Jake had done so well with his rehabilitation, fox hunting and all, he was one of the first horses to leave.

  After Wyatt, Jake went through another series of auctions, meeting more cruel humans who treated him as a piece of property and not a living creature. He lost that little bit of trust he had in humans once again. Eventually he ended up in Florida. That’s where he then met the tail-eating donkeys. He stayed with them only a short time, but in that short time they munched his tail into a pitiful, thin line. I’ve seen thicker twine used to wrap hay, than the bottom of Jake’s tail.

  The donkeys seemed to think Jake was their equine leader. He told me they followed him everywhere, almost as if he were their king. What a sight—Jake, with his immense size, being surrounded by eight little donkeys. Unfortunately, whenever they got the slightest bit hungry, instead of wandering o
ff to find greener pastures, they would nibble on Jake’s tail. I always wondered if they thought about the saying, “you are what you eat,” and believed they would grow to Jake’s size if they just nibbled enough on his tail.

  Jake said his home with the tail-eating donkeys lasted only a few months. His human at the time decided he wanted a horse even larger than Jake, so up for sale Jake went. Lucky for him, Rex was in the market for a horse, and not just any horse would do. Rex is a sizable man. I found that out myself whenever he rode me. Now, I’m not saying Rex was fat. He was tall and carried a good amount of weight because of his height. The first time he rode me, he was worried my skinny little legs would snap like twigs under him. The second time he decided he wanted a more substantial horse to ride. Something really large. Like a draft horse. Like Big Jake!

  *****

  One warm spring day, the extent of Jake’s abusive past and his brutal scars were uncovered for everyone to see. It was one of those hot spring days in Florida that reminded you that the sweltering summer was right around the corner. Daisy decided it was time to body clip poor Jake and cut off his entire long winter coat so he wouldn’t have a heat stroke during Florida’s sun soaked summer days. When his hair was gone, I saw the scars. Jake’s scars ran along the length of his body, all over his ribs and hind-quarters. It was a sad sight to see. Daisy cried when she saw them. I was so thankful that Jake, my gentle giant of a friend, had found his way into a much better family. I was even more thankful I have never felt abuse at the hands of any of the humans I’ve been involved with. Starvation, yes; abuse, no.

  Although his body had healed, Jake’s mind still hadn’t. One afternoon, after working Jake in the round pen, Daisy had placed us both out to pasture, leaving us alone to eat our evening meal.

  “Alright, my little cupcakes, have a wonderful evening and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.” Daisy closed the gate behind her.

  Jake looked at her and then looked back at me. Between mouthfuls of grain, he mumbled, “Whenever she does that it makes me so nervous.”

  “Whenever she does what?”

  “Calls us food names. You know: Pumpkin, Dumplin’, Puddin’. Even when she calls you Coco Bean.”

  I stopped chewing. “Now, Jake, why in the world would that bother you?”

  “Do you think she says stuff like that because she’s going to eat us?” Jake was genuinely concerned one night he might become dinner instead of getting to eat it.

  I looked over at him, trying to keep a straight face. Eat us? Good grief! “No, Jake, I don’t think we have anything to worry about. I think that maybe food is on her mind as much as it’s on yours. But, you know, she doesn’t always call us food names. Sometimes she calls us Darlin’ or Sweetheart, or Sweet Pea. You just never know. Perhaps sometimes she can’t remember our names. Don’t worry and finish your dinner.” I just had to laugh. Food for Daisy!

  Over time I came to look at Jake as much more than just another horse or pasture mate. He was my constant companion, my buddy. We were inseparable in the pasture. I found that I would get frantic if I looked around and didn’t see his massive

  body. I would scream until he answered me and let me know he was still within earshot, and nothing tragic had happened to him.

  Daisy and Rex started taking the two of us out together onto the wooded trails when we rode and, while Jake depended on me to alert him to any danger I might sense in the woods, I depended

  on Jake to always stay behind me and watch my back. He became a faithful friend.

  It’s hard to admit this, but before I knew that it had happened, I was looking at Jake like I had looked at my herd back in Nevada, as a brother. Yes, a brother! Maybe Rex knew what he was doing after all when he brought Jake home. We were family after all. Daisy, Rex, Kobi, and Jake.

  CHAPTER 9 — LET THE SHOW BEGIN

  Since Daisy and I had been making so much progress so quickly, our trainer, Wendy, brought up entering me in horse shows.

  “I’m serious. I really think you should think about it,” Wendy told Daisy one day. “It’s not just anyone who can train a wild mustang. What you’ve done with him is remarkable. I think you should show him.”

  “I don’t know. I showed horses as a kid. My show days are over now. Besides, I just want to ride Kobi for pleasure. I don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

  “I’m just asking that you consider showing him, that’s all.”

  “Okay, then I’ve considered it. I’m not gonna do it.”

  When I heard Daisy say that, I figured my show career was over before it started. It didn’t bother me one bit. I’d seen all of those fancy Arabian horses getting ready for their shows by getting their hair cut, having their chin whiskers shaved, and worst of all, having a bath! Ugh! I didn’t need any part of that!

  Daisy dropped the subject. But, one morning, she was looking for something new and exciting to do when we rode. Bianca, the young girl who popped my rump during the wash rack incident, suggested that since Daisy always rode using a western saddle, for a change we should try Bianca’s dressage saddle. Just for fun.

  The dressage saddle fit on my back differently than my western one. It also kept Daisy perched farther forward than I was used to. It wasn’t bad, just different.

  Daisy rode me with that saddle, only two or three times around the arena, and then she headed us back to the barn.

  “That was quick,” Bianca said. “What’s wrong?”

  “My back hurts so bad right now I can hardly move. The only thing I can think of is that I’m not used to your dressage saddle. I gotta get down.”

  “Ooh! Since Kobi’s already tacked up, can I ride him?”

  “Be my guest.” Daisy handed my reins over to Bianca and hobbled back to the barn to sit down.

  Excited, Bianca hopped up into the saddle and we headed back out to the arena. She put me through all of my paces: walk, trot and canter. We had a great time together. I was sweating and breathing a little heavy when she brought me back to the barn.

  “Thank you for letting me ride him. It was so much fun! He’s a lot different and a lot more fun than riding my own stupid horse. Kobi’s so smart. And since he’s so little I’m not afraid of falling off. He’s not scary to ride at all!”

  Again, I’m not that little! What’s wrong with you guys?

  “Well, Bianca, anytime you want a change of pace feel free to work him if I’m not out here. Experiencing someone else’s riding style and habits would be great for Kobi.”

  That day after Bianca left the barn, Wendy walked up to Daisy. “I overheard you telling Bianca she can work Kobi whenever she wants. Thank you. I think Kobi would be a great horse for her to ride to get her confidence back.”

  “What do you mean, get her confidence back? I didn’t know Bianca had lost it. She did really well up on Kobi today.”

  “On Kobi, yes, I bet she did well. Unfortunately, on her own horse she doesn’t. That big thoroughbred of hers gets so stupid sometimes, she can’t ride him out of it and ends up falling off. Now if she’s riding her horse and he crow hops, jigs, or even swats at a fly with her up there, she dismounts as quickly as she can. She hasn’t been able to show him in the last few shows we’ve taken them to. If he balks when they enter the ring, she panics and starts crying. We end up scratching the class. It’s sad to see a 14-year-old girl who loves horses so much be that rattled by her own horse. You’ve gotten Kobi pretty even tempered now and I think he’d be good for Bianca to ride. It doesn’t hurt that Kobi’s about four inches shorter than her horse, either.”

  From then on, Daisy also let me work with Bianca.

  *****

  A couple of weeks later, Daisy was untacking me after a particularly intense training session with Wendy, and Bianca was tacking up her horse, getting ready to start her own lesson.

  “Daisy, I really think you should show Kobi,” Wendy said.

  “Nope, like I said before, my show days are behind me. I really don’t want to put my
self through all of that stress again.”

  “I’ll do it,” Bianca piped up with a big smile. “I want to show as many different horses as I can for the experience. I’ve already been working with him. Come on, please? I love Kobi. It’ll be so much fun!” Her words rushed out of her like water from a stream.

  “Are you sure?” Daisy asked.

  “Of course, I’d love to. I’ll be the only one out there showing a wild mustang!”

  “But what about your parents? Would they mind if you showed Kobi?”

  “I don’t see why they would. I mean, I’m already coming out to the barn and riding Kobi. I’ll ask them before we sign up, if you want.”

  “It would make me feel better to know they won’t mind. If they don’t, then I’d love for you to give Kobi a shot at showing.”

  “Don’t worry. Even if my parents have concerns, I always get what I want. My dad has never been able to tell me no.” Coming from Bianca, that comment didn’t make her sound spoiled; she was a girl who knew what she wanted and her parents wanted to keep her happy.

  Bianca was starting to get excited at the thought of showing me. “We have to give him a fancy show name. Just ‘Kobi’ isn’t enough. It has to be catchy and special.”

  “Ooh! I know,” Daisy said, caught up in the mood. “How about ‘Kobi Juan Kenobi’? Kobi, because, that’s his name. Juan, for his Spanish heritage, and Kenobi? Well that’s just funny”

  Oh, great, Daisy, now what have you just gotten us into? Showing? A catchy show name? Kobi Juan Kenobi. Are you out of your mind? Why couldn’t Bianca have just kept quiet?

  That was that. Things didn’t change. Daisy still kept coming out and riding, and Wendy still trained us on how to work together as a team. When Daisy wasn’t out there, Bianca still worked with me too. I thought the plan for taking me to shows had been put on hold until I found out they were just waiting for the Florida summer temperatures to dip. That’s when the show season started.