A Bit Too Harsh

Sorry about some of my more harsher views. I must have come off as a complete hater of anything show and competition related. I am not. I realize that some devote themselves to their horses and their disciplines without being cruel and love their horses so much. I didn't mean to offend anyone but I see the slaughter houses and the many people that think of mustangs as the horse worlds parasites and I just get very mad. I get that alot of people really love their horses and would do anything for them. Others though really don't care about their horses. Sorry again but it still stands that if you treat your horse like another blue ribbon and something to beat around until it does what you want, I really could care less about you and feel sorry for you because you are a sick person.

Walking For The Slightly Uncoordinated

Out of the stupidest kind of injuries I have managed to claim first prize. I broke my ankle by running and falling in a hole when I was 9, putting me in a cast for 6 weeks. At 11 I slipped in the shower and cut my leg open on our medal frame. That took twenty two stitches, eight inside(not dissovable; had to pull them out), and fourteen outside. It also took four months to recover and get me leg working right and serving as a great reminder is the constant ache in it from the cut nerves that can't be fixed and the scar on my knee at over 2 inches long. I have broken my toes and managed to misplace a bone in my finger because I was mad at my brother and slammed his door on my hand. I have also sprained my wrist because I slipped in the mud and fell off a hill.

Yesterday I was walking through my living room by the fireplace and managed to rush my leg forward across the bricks. This sliced open my skin on my toe beyond clean enough for stitches, completely took my nail, and probably broke it. I can't say why these dumb injuries happen to me. I am really smart and most of the time sure footed but I can tend to become a bit clumsy causing the above injuries. Alot of people have this happen but to them but the thing is that I really never know what I will do next!

Isn't this picture cool. Its the trees reflection on my pond.

You Jump, I jump. You Fall, I Will Pick You Up And Carry You

Mustangs? Current labels-mean, grouchy, wild, agressive, need to be terminated. I don't know why they are labeled that way. I see sweet, mellow, easy to love animals. With a beauty marked by their low set, flowing tails, their shaggy manes that hides their muscular necks, and eyes that show you the trust and bond they are willing to share.

Sorry if this isn't lengthy and full of meaning but the Corollas need a helping hand. They have fallen and we need to help them up before it is too late.

Something To Be Proud Of

Matoaka stands at about 12.1 hands. She is small but yet she is not two. She is very slight in build but she has a longer neck and a longer back than most Corolla's. She carries herself proud with her neck outstretched, her feet in a paso gait, and her tail held elegantly out like an Arabians, sometimes.

She is nothing but sweet, determined, willing to please, and strongheaded. With a mind of her own and something to prove but very quiet and reserved, we make a great team. We work together and sometimes we don't always see the same eye to eye. Well that's true I am 5.5 and shes........short. What I mean is that we sometimes collide on what we want to do.

She wants to go this way while I am going that way. The after affect of that....I fall in a ditch while she looks at me from the side as if to say,"listen to me human." I want to run she wants to eat....I hit the end of the rope in a slingshot manuever as I rick-shade backwards into her. She probably laughs. I now choose to consider my little genius horses ways. I don't let her show me any disrespect and I act with firmness but I realize that she has a mind better than most that other horses waste by learning how to do pointless stuff. She kicks, me I will firmly tell her no or give her a slap on the shoulder to get her attention.

I watch what she does and it makes sense to me. That isn't normal and it scares me. I couldn't love a horse more though. That is what I see in the Corollas horses. A cutting edge sense, and full of the evil little humor. For horses they are smart. I look at her and see something to be proud of.

The Apple Fell Too Far From The Tree

Everyone has heard the saying the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. I am turning that around in a way as to say the apple fell to far from the tree. If anyone knows Steve Edwwards they will know what he thinks of today's "established" horse world. They view things much differently.

A horse isn't measured much in there quality but more in the quantity they take from your wallet. They are seen as a shiny trophy or a pretty blue ribbon. A horse in the established horse world is merely a prize to be won, a game to be played, and money to make. Their horses run around rings and do things that no animal was made for doing. Sure we have bred them out to do those things. At what cost?

Inbreeding is a major factor. Some people want that special pedigree that shouts at the judges,"just look at my family, I am more than good". A beautiful, perfect colored, great confirmation, built in discipline, no mind for there own, horse. You know what it says to me? Health issuies. A vet bill. A horse that is only made for what I have bred it. Another trophy, ribbon, and heart break when I must uthanize it do to health complications from pre-existing family problems that inbreeding has only made worse. My views are very different. One may think too harsh.

I would disagree. My horse can go for miles, in the heat, rain, snow, cold, rocks, dirt, or sand without showing signs of breaking down. They carry me long and hard. They do what I want but think for themselves. They don't have names that are run-offs from every other horse on that piece of paper showing their family. They enjoy my company and I respect and love theirs. My horses will live long, happy, and healthy lives.

Will your top prized, blue ribbon winning, ring running, judge pleasing, pedigree mess, live a long, happy, healthy, and fulfilled life? I think not.

Those of the established horse world are apples that didn't fall far from the tree. They think selfishly and want the next best thing in life that can make them noticed. Others are apples that fell too far from the tree becausw they really try to do right by their horses. But us from the mustang and other protected breed areas, are the peices of candy that everyone cherishes better and picks first, not that sour, wormy apple.

You Don't Konw What You're Doing

I love my horses. In return they love me back. They play the dominace role on each other when I am not around. But they know that I am their leader when it comes to things. Sometimes they don't get things. I simply walk them backwards and start from square one, teaching them what I want them to do. I don't whip them, tie them down, beat them, or a number of other things that horses have to go through due to their lack of understanding.

They weren't made to understand english. Yelling it at them will not help. I show them what I need them to do. I have been able to train my Corolla successfully using these ways. She understand the tasks I want her to do and she does them.

Sure I have fallen off of horses. Only three times since June 24, 2006. Keyword there, fallen. Once it was my faught, the other times were because I had only been riding for a couple of months and was really inexperienced with a horse that had as much knowledge about what to do as me. I have never been thrown. I have never been hurt. When I look at my horses and then look at show horses I say yeah those horses are nice and respectable, but my horses are geniuses to me. People look at me and say you don't know what you are doing. Really? I do. You can tell that because I bet my horse even has an opinion on those people. Just because I don't beat my horses into doing something doesn't mean I don't know what I am doing.

This is a picture of Wanchese, a Shackelford stallion. He happens to be the horse that I fell off of because I wasn't paying attention to what I did. I didn't get up and smack him because I fell off. I got back on and rode him for a couple more hours. I now think he is the best riding horse around and I would ride him anytime, anywhere.

She Is Smarter Than Me

Matoaka has officially taken her first "big girl" saddle. I started out by shaking the bag monster( crop and plastic bag on the end) all over her and running it along her legs and head. She chewed carelessly and just stood there with her backfoot resting. She accepted the pad on her back like it belonged there and then I lifted up the saddle and placed it on. She still stood like it was the most natural thing in the world. I took her bridle and was able to get the bit in her mouth then slip it over her head easily. She played with my shirt sleeve and rubbed her head on my back showing her slight impatience. So I tightened the girth without a problem and lead her forward. She eyed it suspicously but still stayed focused on me. I got her going up and down the path with it and we even trotted with out a single buck. I was very happy that she took her first big saddle that way. I know that this summer when I mount up she will be one of the best Corollas I have ever ridden.

Ready?No, Not Yet.Ready?Almost.Ready?Yeah.

The family of Mill Swamp Indian Horses is one that someone could only admire. Not just between the riders but between every horse, person, and whatever else comes our way. We come together for the purpose of our horses and what they mean to us. Steve Edwards protects and preserves strains of wild horses. Together him and his riders have become something quite amazing. One of the adult riders/trainers is different in many good ways.

Brent Speichinger is the person I am talking about. He has won many rodeos and worked as a cowboy most of his life. I could not tell you all that he has accomplished but just let you know that he has. Brent is pictured above with his horse Young Joseph. Joseph is a Chincoteague, BLM cross. I used to own Young Joseph but together we just weren't a match. Joseph has a certain type of spirit about him, to good to be broken but quite wild. I was much too inexperienced to handle him. Brent, with his knowledge of how to work with horses like Joseph, tried patiently to teach me and help me. He did a good job and I think that by watching him and trying to learn from him I have become a better and more confident rider. Although in the end Joseph and I just didn't fit together.

Brent had always loved Joseph and spotted his unique characteristics. He was tireless. He liked to run. He was jumpy and scared but he was more of an althlete than anything. He was wild but a really sweet natured horse. After MUCH, MUCH work joseph is an unrecognizable horse all due to Brent. Brent has rode Joseph on many endurace rides and done really well. Together they are a really good match.

But Brent is always willing to help other riders no matter what.

As I ran up a hill on back of a Shackelford stallion, Wanchese, he tripped and my saddle slipped. I knew I was going off. So did Brent. He was off of his horse before me. I was falling but he hopped off before I knew what was happening. I had made a stupid mistake by not hooking the saddle right and I payed for it.

In the end having people like Brent as a part of the Mill Swamp family pays off. They prepare us for our horses and our horses for us. They let us choose when we are ready and just prepare us for that time.

I Saved Your Life Little Puppy and You Cried When I Left

Today I went to my neices birthday party. She turned 3 and had a very good time. I love all animals but everyone loves puppies. Today my mom looked from the deck into the crate with the little puppies. I saw a splash of white and feet flying. I ran over to see the little puppies head wrapped in a towel, upside down. I quickly grabbed it out and held it. It wasn't breathing well and I feared the worst.

I held her until she breathed normal. She is only three weeks old. As she looked up at me she licked my nose and whined in greeting and thank you. I put her back in the crate right side up. As I shut the door. She squealled loudly and scratched at the door. I saved a life. A very little but precious life. Love is what you get when you give it.

I saved her life and we are trying to save the lives of many horses that are lined up for death each day. Please help when you see the chance.

This is me and her, and she looks so happy!

Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be

Yes I am quoting the great Shakespeare. No I am not going to go into a lecture about A Midsummer Nights Dream and the evil little fairy Puck. Although that would make for one interesting entry. The approach I am looking for is the quote itself. I find it to be true. Well actually I find it true when it comes to the Colonial Spanish Mustang Breeds all over.

These breeds aren't looked at as important.

You take a nice clipped, trimmed, propered, polished, and good looking horse, throw in the fancy breed name, the pretty ribbons and expenses of todays horse world and you got yourself something important.

Well that's what you would think, that is what they want you to think. A horse isn't supposed to be measured in hands, expenses, ribbons, earnings, pedigrees, or much else. Actually that is exactly how they are measured.

Here is how they should be measured. They are measured by the heart. The loyalty and love they show to the owner who loves them back. A horse is great. But look at it like this. People want the biggest, the best, the fastest, and the prettiest. In our eyes the Spanish Mustang horses are all of these things and much more. The world doesn't want that. The selected few who have learned that that is not the way to think understand the need to keep these breeds. Which is why we say to ourselves sometimes; Lord What Fools These Mortals Be.

Here is my beautiful Corolla, Toeks(Matoaka), loving up to the camera.

Leaving Isn't Easy

At 13 I take high school courses online. I am in a program called AIG,(Acedemically and Intellectually Gifted)-pretty much meaning I am really smart. I know that when I grow up I would love to be a photographer that travels the globe. When I heard some news about the Corolla Herd Manager moving and them having to fill the spot it came as a bit of a shock what I thought of.
My mind raced at the thought of them not having a person there for them although they have alot of people there for them. My reaction was quick. I didn't show it but I thought about it. I would love to be the Corolla Herd Manager someday. I couldn't think of a more rewarding and satisfying position in life. I also realized that every ambition of mine in life will be a million miles away from North Carolina. I always thought that the Corollas would be there. That isn't the reality of it though.
They are NEARLY EXTINCT!!!!!!! I don't know how much longer they will be here! Their herd size is only allowed to be 60 and they have 12,000 acres to roam!
Corolla is a major tourist attraction and brings in alot of income, no doubt. The horses are one of the leading attractions though. But with all these people coming to see them where will they stay? Of course in the biggest, nicest beach homes right on the ocean front. Right where the horses run! With that income they build those houses. Those houses that hold occupants unaware that a broken glass bottle, a fish net, a hook, or a number of things could be the death of one of those beautiful horses that fight to survive everyday at the expense of a tourist attraction.
Don't get me wrong I love the Outer Banks and I see the draw of the place but I love those horses way more than anything else down there. Why can't people see what they really mean. I know they are JUST horses, but we are JUST humans and that is JUST a beach. Those horses, just those horses, have been there since the 16th century and on until today.
I can't explain how hard it is to get someone to realize that they were there first and they should be there last. Not alot of people get that. Sure I am smart but it doesn't take a smart person to grasp that concept. It just takes a person willing to care about something more than the next best thing.
Leaving isn't easy and I know that it will be harder for me to leave knowing that these horses are dieing out. But leaving isn't easy at all when you are being driven from you land by the people of today, espcially when you are a tiny foal ripped from your mother because she was killed and left to fend your own. Leaving isn't easy but as it stands today, the Corollas pathway to extinction is being paved for them.

The "Horse Whisperer"?

Many people have heard of the horse whisperer. They think oh sure like someone really talks to horses. Those people are very unlucky. They have not met Steve Edwards.

I am not saying that he leans down and talks to a horses ear, although on several occasions this has happened. Instead he reads a horses body language. Looking at a horses actions and understanding why they are doing something is being able to read a horse.

When you ride your horse is its ears pinned back or straight forward? Is your horses neck high and arched? Is your horse jumpy and ripping at the bit? Your horse is scared then.

That is being able to see signs. You can tell how your horse is reacting to everything by reading them. They will tell you everything you need to know if you just slow down and read them like Steve does.

There have been times when I wondered to myself if I should trust his judgement. However he hasn't steered me wrong, not even once. By listening to Steve I learned how to know my horse. I mean really know my horse more than anyone else does and be able to tell you everything about them before it happens and knowing how to correct it in a way that my horse will understand completely and thouroghly. Being able to read a horse is hard if your horse can't read you. Horse don't speak english. There brains aren't as developed as ours and they don't get why people do the things they do.

Steve is the closest thing to a horse whisperer. He can understand a horse in a way so that he canlet the horse understand him.

One last question for you?

Now when you ride your horse is it calm, collected, and smooth? Is your horses head lowered, it's mouth chewing lazily, and it's ears resting? Is your horses gaits flowing and easy? Does your horse love you to no end because they understand you like you understand them? Your riding a Corolla if so.

A Corolla By Any Name, Is More Than A Horse

“Come on girl, pick up your feet, you have to see my new wild horse. It’s from Corolla.” I looked into the face of a rather short man but maybe I’m just tall. Steve Edwards smiled proudly of the mention of his new Corolla stallion. Covered in dirt from the day’s ride I felt like sitting down and watching the horses eat as I imagined he did. “A wild horse from Corolla huh,” I asked, following him through the gate. Steve did not answer as he continued to smile. He lead me to a pen where a little, dirty, black colt stood just staring out at the other horses. His ears pricked forward when he saw us coming. Wow some “wild” horse I thought. Steve slipped into the ring as I followed. The stallion looked slightly uncomfortable at my approach so I lagged behind. “This is Manteo,” Steve announced with enough enthusiasm I got the feeling he had practiced it. Manteo was short and shaggy. His eyes were showing a bit of white as he eyed me. He had a shaved spot on his neck from a surgical procedure, the surgical procedure that required them to take him out of the wild, off of the beaches of Corolla and to a strange new place that he didn’t know. “Can I touch him,” I asked stretching my hand forward slowly. “Sure why not,” Steve said as he hugged the little stallion around the neck. I ran my hand across his neck and buried my fist into his deep fur. He eased at my touch as I began to rub my knuckles into his “momma spot,” a place on there neck that there mothers rubbed when they were a foal. I soon ran my hand over his back and down the other side. I had grown comfortable with him so I draped my arms over him and rested my head on his back. He only propped his back foot and closed his eyes. Steve beamed at my appreciation for this new horse. I closed my eyes and continued to lay there completely comfortable.

Manteo was a two year old stallion that was newly captured when I did that. His trust was not strong and neither was mine. That was my first contact with a Corolla Mustang but thankfully it was not my last. I have the amazing honor of working with these horses every chance I get and I was given the opportunity to own one.

They are strong, beautiful, graceful, and talented. They can run across the sand without a problem and swim through the water when it is below freezing. The Corolla’s are perfect athletes with there quick start and very fast gaits. The picture of beauty and magnificence there is only one little flaw in there lives. They have to fight to live on the land that they came to with the Spanish centuries ago. To be the first on the land and to outlive many generations they were made for Corolla but are being driven to extinction. Development of the land, people who think these horses are not true wild horses, and the cruel people who decided that they would rather kill these horse than give them a chance are all contributing to determining these horses futures. Fortunately some caring people came along. Those caring people are part of an organization called The Corolla Wild Horse Fund. They stand for saving these horses while we still can. Along with the Corolla Wild Horse Fund, Steve Edwards of Mill Swamp Indian Horses and his riders have set forth in an effort to save the Corolla’s. He has accomplished a breeding program of tough and sturdy stallions and beautiful mares that prove to be as tough as the stallions. Through his breeding program he has successfully bred a Corolla stallion, Croatoan, and a Corolla mare, Baton Rouge. The end result was a beautiful little roan filly named Mokete. The saving of this breed does not lie in our hands but the hands of everyone who can help us out and just take the time to realize that they are worth saving.

This picture is of a Half Corolla colt.

If Tomorrow Doesn't Come

On December 29, 2008 a very loved brother, son, and friend to the Mill Swamp Indian Horse family passed away. His name was Patrick Lido Edwards or better known as Lido.

Lido had a condition known as Cerebal Palsy. But he did not let this slow him down. With the help of his loved ones he was able to train himself to be stronger than alot of todays people. But what stood out the most was his spirit and personality. He was always smiling. When you saw him smile you couldn't help but smile. He would talk to you even if you were a stranger and you wouldn't mind a bit. He was never afrid to try something. Much of Mill Swamps colts and donkeys were broke by Lido.

If anybody needed help you could look to him to be the one to help them. He had a never ending love for horses and hunting. But no matter what if you needed a friend Lido was there.

It is very hard to believe that he is gone because he still follows us in our hearts. He is much the soul of Mill Swamp and that will not change.

The picture above is of an Ornimental Pear tree. It has just bloomed as Spring begins. But today it has snowed all day. And many of the blooms have frozen. They will die and a new seed will take their place and begin to grow. Ask yourself this, if tomorrow doesn't come was yesterday everything it could have been?

Many people do not live life to the full. If you are doing what you love and loving what you do as Lido did, than you are living your life the way you want to remember it by.

So maybe would should go bungee jumping, or play our music to an extent that makes the cops mad, and maybe even travel the globe. Or go ahead and jump on a Corolla and see just what they can do!