October, 2008

Six years had passed since I last set eyes on Shyloh. I knew I would recognize her immediately because her pretty and refined head, her soft and welcoming eyes, and her distinctive markings – a white diamond on her forehead, snip just above her nose, and Click to continue »

The decision to get back into horses did not come about as a result of missing them. I received a phone call from the fellow I’d reluctantly sold my quarter horse mare to when I left Santa Fe and moved to Arizona six years ago. It hadn’t made sense to Click to continue »