The first step to becoming a mush master is having a reason to make it

My adventure in mush making began on Saturday around 11 p.m. I was at a horse show, minding my own business, cooling my flag horse out after a flawless run ending with the winning time of 8.063 seconds. A friend of mine came rushing up to congratulate me and after some idle chit chat she talked about selling some of her horses. She said to me, "I just don't have the money with me not working and trying to go to school." So of course trying to help I asked what she had to sell and what her asking prices were. She had a couple well-broke quarter horses, a pony that wasn't good for inexperienced riders, and an old walking horse mare. I've always liked the walking horse breed so I asked about her. My friend answers, "Her name is River and I would just give her to you." That should have sent off warning flags but I was too worried about the horse's welfare and my friend's financial status to give it much thought. "Well if you'll give her to me I'll be by to pick her up after I finish my last run," I said, ever the sucker.

When I pulled up to my friend's house it was well after dark and I didn't want to dilly dally, I had a long hour drive home after I left there. We go traipsing across the pasture looking for a small black horse amid four others. After I'd tripped over some live animal traps, cut myself on the barbed wire, and fallen in a gopher hole, I finally found her. She walked right up and stuck her nose in the halter and followed me to the trailer. I turned on the interior trailer light and saw she was thin, thin enough I would have called Animal Control. She jumped right into the trailer next to my gelding, I collected her paperwork and headed home.

The old girl was so weak it was hard for her to keep her feet. I snaked through the hills at a snail's pace and put the pedal down once I reached the highway. Once we were home the large pony I keep for therapeutic riding trumpeted a greeting. Both horses in the trailer called back. River was first out of the trailer and I finally got a good look at her inside the barn. She looked so pitiful I wondered if I would have to put her down. Every bone was visible, her breast bone stood out farther than her shoulders, her hipbones would have made a nice hat rack, and you could fit a brick between her spine and her ribcage. I led her into a clean stall padded with rice hulls and loaded up a hay bag full of nice, soft Bermuda hay. She sniffed at it for a moment and then started gobbling it down as if it were her last bite. Satisfied she could chew the hay I filled up a couple water buckets, turned my geldings out for the night, and closed up the barn. The full weight of what I had done didn't hit me until I sat down in the recliner with my favorite Wiggle Butt. As I petted her head I started making a shopping list for my trip to the feed store the following morning.



Wow....all I can say is here's my first post. I wanted to document the progress of an amazing horse and prove her previous owners wrong about her inability to gain weight. Some of my inspirations are the fulgy blog, mugwump chronicles, and the complete ignorance of people in this day and age. Bear with me, I'm getting film developed of her first day pictures and will post them soon.