It was my first summer in Northern Arizona when I met him. He was tall and strong, with a look of regalness about him. I could not help but move towards him, to touch his outstretched muzzle, and stroke his neck while he uttered soft nickers of approval.
He was in a stall, away from the other horses, the Egyptian Arab mares that my wife and I had come to see. He was huge compared to them, a large boulder among the small rubble of other animals in his vicinity. I could not take my eyes off of him, taking in the whole of him. His brilliant coat of bright burnt red with white dapples that turned to red on white at his rump announced his Appaloosa heritage. White socks and freckled forehead were perfect complements to his lightly dappled body and large bush of a tail.
The tail belied some other undetermined mix in his gene pool, as it was not a scrawny remnant, or the bony axe headed look of other Appaloosa I’d seen and ridden.
He stood 15 and a half hands high, shorter than most Quarter horses, yet had a hind end that was just as powerful. His conditioning when I got him left a lot to be desired, but he eagerly took to both lead training and rides on the trails near my home. Free from life in a stall, with his own pasture to share with the Arab mare, he flourished and grew quickly to master his domain.
WiP – DW