RHO Horse and Cattle Company: The Beginning

The days and months went by. I didn’t visit much.  I made it clear to Tom Riley that I am pretty much a no-show during the harsh winter months.  The times I did visit, I watched my friends happily ride in the great outdoor arena. It was pretty evident that they settled in nicely and were quite happy with Tom, the barn and the care the horses were getting.  I kept asking, though, if we would ever get back to our old barn   No one was really interested in that.  They seemed to love it at RHO and Tom Riley was the exemplary trainer they have been apparently searching for.

This story is really about me, in case you haven’t noticed.  But through this all, my husband Ritchie also had a horse.  He loved to ride, had no fear and absolutely no seat in the saddle but was having fun on his big, old sloppy Leopard Appaloosa, Dexter.  Dexter was a Christmas present.  He was a good horse, but as usual, knew how to take advantage of a novice rider.   Ritchie and Dexter LOVED the cow barn and had a blast…as it should be.  There were times when I would say to Sharon, what the hell…. Everyone is having fun and this really seems to be their new home, including my husband.  Maybe we can just leave Dexter here so Ritchie has his cows and friends and I will just go back to our old trainer. There is nothing here for me. My friends all had their horses in training on cows, including my husband… who put Dex in training to be the first 16 hand Appaloosa fossil that would work cows!  It really was quite a sight.

Spring came.  One by one, each one of my friends ended up with a “Tom Riley” trained horse. Sue, a former barrel racer, had the most gorgeous horse in the barn.  Thunder was a kind gelding that was good under saddle, just not cut out for cows.   Over the year, Tom worked a lot with Thunder.  While doing so, Sue rode one of his top cutting horses.  She rode in Team Penning and loved it.  What she discovered was what each and every one of my friends did.   When we first arrived long ago, our horses were hot, high strung and loaded up on alfalfa!  They were not well-mannered and needed a strong hand, good hay, feed and pasture to settle them down.  Well, Thunder never settled down and after riding a true cutting athlete, Sue chose to sell him for one of Tom’s horses.

Donna…a good, strong rider with no fear that pretty much did whatever Sue did.  Her horse Riley damn nearly killed her on a trail ride.  Tom did his best to also attempt to re-condition her gelding, but to no avail.  Again, he put her on one of his horses and it was love at first ride.  Donna was now the proud owner of yet another Tom Riley horse…Summer, the sweetheart of the barn.  Summer was an older mare.  She could Cut, Team Penn and Sort with the best of them.  Donna knew this was the horse for her and Riley was sold.

Ted and Elaine were all around horse owners.  They had certain ways and theories about care and feeding, but it was their thing and Tom Riley obliged. They loaded their horses and went on trail rides, participated in shows at the fairground and rode through cows. Elaine’s Paint, Tuffy, was an older gelding and beautiful.  Tuffy was another one of my favorite horses... a great Western Pleasure ride, but he was not very good on cows.  Elaine rode Sugar, another Tom Riley trained cutting mare, who knew her way around cows quite well and was exceptional in the Team Penning arena.  Elaine bought Sugar and kept Tuffy.  Ted had Bo.  A huge buckskin gelding that pretty much was fine with anything Ted put him through.  Ted kept Bo.

Sharon… oh boy. This was the eye-opener of a lifetime.  Sharon owned an Appaloosa, Blaze and an old Barrel Racer, Nicky.  Both nuts, both hyped up and both obviously not the horses for her or her daughter, Aly, who did most of the riding on Nicky.

Tom was witness to Sharon’s fear and her horrible horses.  Sharon rode a Tom Riley trained horse... Sonita and need I say more… Sharon was instantly hooked and promptly rid herself of her headaches. Sharon bought Sonita, a cutting saddle and tack and was on her way to finally, a comfortable, sane, quiet ride who was another star of the barn.

My story gets wild here. Exceptionally scared to the point of paralysis, I knew that the Great Wizard of RHO had nothing in his black bag for me.  I didn’t ask.

One Fall day, everyone was at the barn riding their new mounts, laughing and doing what they do best…having fun.  I sat and watched.  Tom, bless his heart, couldn’t take my agony anymore…although it was more agony on his part.  Tom just wanted everyone to be happy and stopped at nothing to insure that we all were.

Sugar was a very kind, mellow little cutter who only did as much as her rider asked.  After much persuasion, I was coerced to ride little Sugar. What a fiasco. Literally.  First of all, I dragged a mounting block into the arena and stood there for a good 15 minutes with tears in my eyes begging Tom not to make me do this.  His patience was incredible and steadfast.  His calm Texas twang told me “I got all day and you’re gonna just walk on this mare, believe me when I tell ya” over and over again.

That was the first meeting I had with Courtney…Tom’s wife.  We laugh so hard about this today, but oh, what a sight I was and oh, what a fool I looked.  Courtney tells me today she thought…who is this crazy lady and why does she even have a horse???

So, the infamous moment came and I found myself strapped across a 14.2 hand monster that stood there like a lady.  Tom on one side, Ted, Ritchie and Johnny O (the O in RHO) literally walked me around the arena.  I remember looking at Tom saying “Please don’t let her go fast.  She’s moving, what do I do?” He just kept telling me “You’re alright, she ain’t goin nowhere, just sit back, relax, yer walkin” It took four cowboys and 30 minutes to get me to that point.  NO EXAGGERATION!!

I don’t know when I got so scared or even why.  My unpredictable, hyped-up paint mare was always a challenge, but the last straw was when I mounted her, she freaked out and would not stop…the explanation for that behavior was…”must have been the saddle, or the fringe, maybe the saddle pad”… whatever… I was tired of making excuses for this horse and resigned myself to the fact that it was all me.

Or was it?  Everyone literally traded up their horses for true athletes.  Everyone was happy and cow-poking. All I could think was “Dakota, we’re not in Kansas anymore”

Later that day, I was walking my mare up the hill and crying.  This is not the place for me.  I can’t do this.  I look like a fool and worse yet, I really was one.  I was so upset that I was at the point of really considering selling my beautiful mare and counting my losses yet again. Countless times I would say to Sharon…What are we doing here? This is a COW barn. Spurs, hats, cow-calls across the arena chasing a bovine herd of finely trained future filet mignon prospects???  

 Whistles, barks, grown adults spewing ‘HEY CATTLE, C’MON HEYYY CATTLE” like they were on a cattle drive deep in the heart of the promise land….

Holy hell... what am I doing? Who ARE these people?

RHO Horse and Cattle Company

Well, here we are… A brand new world and a fresh outlook on life.  Although Sharon and I were pretty upset about leaving our old barn, we were happy to be with all our friends and our horses were together as a herd.  All the others though, were strangely elated to be with Tom.  I couldn’t figure out why just yet.

Sharon was ok with this whole thing.  There was nowhere else to go and she actually LOVED the place.  Me?  I was still upset over losing my old trainer and my home at Rivendell.  It takes a lot of energy and effort explaining why I own a horse but can’t ride to a new trainer… blah… blah… blah…

Rolling into RHO was an experience.  Up the driveway was a big, beautiful house on the hill. Laura and Stan lived in this stately thing overlooking the property.  Miss Laura, as I was introduced to her, was the “H” in RHO.  She was a kind, friendly, petite little thing who obviously knew her way around horses.

  

As I came over the crest of the hill, I saw a big barn, a large field, a HUGE outdoor arena and plenty of pick-up trucks. The barn and grounds were really beautiful.  The stalls were big and clean.  Each horse had a Dutch door on the outside and a center aisle window as well.  The horses in the stables all belonged to us and made themselves at home real quick. 

I can remember my first meeting with Tom Riley.  My first impression then still holds true today.  He was a gentle man, extended his hand and said welcome to the barn. He asked me to pick a stall, of which I chose the last stall on the end which was bright and airy and looked over the driveway.  Plus…Sharon was next to me.  He was a handsome, gruff cowboy with a long grey ponytail peeking out from an outback cowboy hat that had seen better days.   His shirt was pressed and white, jeans ironed and boots with spurs that looked like they intended to do serious damage…. Um... SPURS?  What the hell?  This guy is serious business.  All I knew was that he ran this barn and he at least LOOKED like he knew what he was doing. He was so nice and seemed genuinely happy we were all there.  He literally took us all in on the “spur” of the moment and was gracious about the whole thing.  We were a motley bunch that had been through the mill and back. Tom was extremely proud of this barn and was happy to show me it!  He prided himself on being a cutting-horse trainer.  He opened the huge sliding back door of the barn which revealed huge open fields with happy horses romping through fields of green.  People brought their established horses in for a tune up, others were young and in a program and some were just his brood mares.  What amazed me was at the opening of the door… heads popped up over the clover, ears forward, and like a trained army, slowly horses were making their way across the field. “They think it’s feedin’ time” he said with a huge grin! This was a training barn... not a boarding facility. He trained cutting horses and was  proud of it.  I wasn't about to tell him that it really was a dream of mine and Ritchie's to actually own a cutting horse... and actually do that stuff.  It was just that, though.. a dream. 

His face lit up when he smiled.  He was very professional and straightforward when he explained his old cowboy methods and rules of his barn.

So, imagine my horror when my questions were answered….

Blankets?  Nope, don’t believe in blankets.  A horse isn’t meant to be blanketed.  Not healthy for ‘em.  They need to be natural.  Let ‘em grow a healthy coat. They’ll be plenty warm in the Winter. You don’t need no fancy stuff here.  You can put one on, but just know that we don’t take ‘em off or put ‘em on, it’ll get chewed up out there, believe me when I tell ya.

I wasn’t about to explain to this cowboy that my horse loved her purple blanket and never EVER got it dirty or “chewed up”.  She would never allow it…. And shedding out a wooly mammoth in the Spring isn’t quite my thing….

Wash stall?  Nope, just tie your horse up over there on the fence.  The hose reaches.

Fly mask?   Nope, don’t need it.  Flies get up under ‘em and cause more damage, believe me when I tell ya.

I wasn’t about to explain to this cowboy that my horse loved her purple fly mask and it matched her fly sheet.

Worming?  Yup, I do it.  I have my own schedule and mix. Don’t need any of that other stuff.  My horses are on a schedule and if you want, I’ll put yours on.  Never had a problem, believe me when I tell ya.

Oh boy … ‘nuff said.

Tack Boxes?  Sure, you can put ‘em in the aisle.  Don’t need too much stuff though, all ya need is a brush and I got everything else ya need right here, believe me when I tell ya.

How was I supposed to explain to this cowboy that my tack box was purple and I had matching purple brush sets, sweat scrapers, combs, hoof pics, cowboy magic by the gallons and treats galore??

Tack room?  Yea, there’s some saddle racks right in there and bridle hooks.  You can set them down anywhere ya want.

Ok, well, this cowboy would figure out which saddle was mine by the purple cover

All and all, I was ok with the rules of his barn.  I never blanketed Satin or any of my horses for that matter.  Somewhere between English and Western, I started believing in all that nonsense.  

 Honestly, Dakota really did like that blanket and seriously, she never got it dirty to the point where it was destroyed.   

A wash stall is nice, but not necessary… 

Fly masks are important... or so I thought… 

Worming is important... we'll talk about that one

This cowboy would get used to my purple tack box (I hoped)

 I didn’t ride much so it didn’t matter where my tack was.

After all was said and done, I was relieved to know that despite all the  rules of this crazy cow horse barn, my horse was in the very best of hands because his theories on horse care and feeding were awesome and I totally agreed.

How do I tell my new potential trainer that I have a horse, but I don’t ride? I came with all these people who couldn’t wait to get to the cows.  Where the hell did I come from and how am I going to fit here?   So, I tried to explain my saga to Tom Riley and he patiently listened and believe it or not... understood my fear.

From day one, all he said was    “we’ll get cha ridin’, believe me when I tell ya”. 

I thought to myself…Yea, well... no I don’t think so…people wear hats and spurs here…I am NOT doing this.. Believe me when I tell ya….

That would be a miracle, I said.

His response?  “You Bet”

Exile from Rivendell

God, how I loved this barn.  My friends were awesome, our horses were great and happy and boy, did we know how to throw parties.  The Christmas parties were the best. Once a year, the owners would host an awesome holiday get together in the best of places!  Fun, games, good food and drink and friends made up our family of equine enthusiasts…

Nothing could touch us.  Well, yea.. pretty much nothing.

Another bad day .... one crisis after another at home and work only made me long for the weekend to get to the barn and shake the week off my nerves…as if things couldn’t get worse…I received a phone call from my trainer…Our barn owner was in trouble with the law… why, where and when was not my issue, nor my concern.  My only thoughts were of Dakota… what were we up against and what will happen? In short, the conversation got very grim and rapidly declined with every  word. We had decisions to make and fast.  We were not sure what would happen to the property and all that was on it, horses included.
The legal trouble our barn was in was well known throughout the horse community.  Little did I know the extent of the issues

The phone call from my trainer was heartbreaking and extremely nerve wracking.  All I knew was our entire barn was moving out. I knew no one in the area and was torn between going to a small, backyard barn recommended by my trainer or left on my own to find a safe haven closer to my home. Many phone calls and tears later, I decided to go with the backyard barn and a few acquaintances from the barn of whom I really wasn’t close with.

Sharon’s phone call saved my life and unbeknownst to both of us, would change our lives forever.

My close friends were serious riders. They went on trail rides, loped through fields, played kick ball on horseback and  twisted around barrels.  They did all the normal things people do that comes with horse ownership. Sharon and I watched.  They mentioned cows and Team Penning but I still didn’t understand what that game was really about… but they did that too. On occasion, a well-known cutting horse trainer, Tom Riley, would bring his herd of cows to our barn.  Everyone was so excited and it was a huge event when he did so.  They were so elated to dance through cow pies on their snorting, hyped horses, chase cows and call it fun! I was lucky enough to miss the certain times the cows would make an appearance.  I am sure witnessing such nonsense would surly make me second-guess my very existence and  question the mental health of my bizarre friends.

On a Wednesday afternoon my  Sharon called “Michele, we are all going to Tom Riley’s barn.  Sue, Donna, Ted, Elaine and Me.  I spoke to Tom about you coming with us.  Please call him right now because there is only one stall left and he is waiting for your call.”

Hesitant, I called.

I didn’t really know what to expect or what to say.  Having many dealings with trainers, barns and the nightmare of worrying if my horse was in good hands all came back. 

His voice was gentle and very professional, yet a twang of a gruff Texas cowboy was evident.  I briefly explained the story and requesting a stall was effortless.  He already knew of me and was more than accommodating.  In fact, his words were “You are welcome to come with everyone, and don’t worry about a thing.  Your horse will be fine.” I closed the call with a grateful thank you and his response was simple and kind. “You Bet”

Everyone knew this guy and seemed to love him.  What did I possibly have to lose? I was with my crazy cow friends and more importantly, with Sharon.  So the decision was made and off we went.

MASS EXODUS

We all thought we had time before we had to leave, but another harrowed phone call from Sharon told me otherwise. All we knew was this legal issue was big.  Our trainer thankfully was not involved but was also devastated at losing her  friends and livelihood.  Sharon’s voice was strained and audibly shaken.  “I don’t know what’s happening but there are helicopters circling the barn.  We are afraid that things may be confiscated.  Please come now, we’re packing up.”

Thank God I had an understanding boss. I left work immediately and frantically took a wild ride up to the barn.  The long drawn faces wet with tears and furrowed concerned brows shook me to the bone.  I didn’t understand the degree of fear they had but rapidly knew it was serious. The scene looked like a frenzied garage sale or better yet, the mall on Black Friday! Everyone was grabbing tack, saddles, mounting blocks, lead ropes, halters and anything that was not nailed to the walls…well, in fact that stuff too. All this was amidst helicopter blades thumping overhead.

We were scared. In silence, we loaded our horses one by one onto trailers.  As we stood in line, literally to be next, the scene from Lord of the Rings came to mind. I remembered the first day pulling up to this beautiful barn.  The name was spiritual and had deep meaning.  I will not mention it because the events that happened hurt many people and torn apart many lives. Some of you reading this know and understand. The name of the barn came from Lord of the Rings (my all-time favorite movie) … well, that’s what I thought and believed.  It reflected Arwen, the Elven Princess, known also to her people by this barn name because of her unparalleled beauty. It was significant for me and I loved it.  This evening was that of Arwen leaving Rivendell.     With her family of Elves in tow, she too, had to leave her hallowed ground for a better, safer place.

 We were so sad, hurt and worried where this next adventure would take us. We were together and that’s what mattered.  Our horses would be safe and we would all figure it out as a family.

The electric iron gates opened for the final time. Trailers rolled up the road leaving nothing but a cloud of dust and memories behind.  We all hoped that our trainer would be on her feet soon enough and we would all be back under her guidance. The elves would return to Rivendell!!

…Not so fast…

Fate and Circumstance

Months went  by.  I didn't  improve with Dakota, but I sure did love her. She was just so unpredictable yet I was determined to overcome all obstacles in my head and under saddle. I did find many excuses not to ride but still, I loved my barn and knew she was taken care of.

If you are fortunate  to live close enough to where your horse is stabled, or better yet, have them on your own property, then you have won half the battle.  A good, trustworthy trainer and barn management is worth every penny of the ridiculous cost of the sport.  We were lucky.  We had a great barn and great people to care for our precious livestock. The grounds were beautiful. The stalls were large and airy. We had a sand outdoor arena, round pen and a great indoor.  We had a wash stall, two tack rooms and a lounge.  The price was right and we  had all the luxuries a horse owner could dream of.  It was truly a place of peace, happiness and beauty.  One of the many reasons I was so hesitant to get another horse was the heartache and worry of where to board it and who to entrust my horse's care to.  I lived an hour away and knew that I would only visit on weekends.. and never EVER in the harsh winter of Sussex County. 

Finding Dakota, this barn and our trainer  was a miracle in itself and every day I thanked God for the comfort of knowing that my horse was safe, fed and happy.

Until  she wasn't.