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       If you think Ezra is a man’s name, you’re right. If you think Appaloosas have spots, you’re right again.  Even though I really am a registered Appy mare, you won’t find any spots on me.  I was lucky enough, however, to have inherited the wonderful Appy temperament.  Appys are smart, but you have to earn their full attention.  We may require convincing if you ask us to do something we really don’t want to do.  Generally we are easy-going, curious and inquisitive.  I think that description fits me perfectly.


Now that you know a little bit about my breed, let me tell you my story.  I was a 4-H project.  My dam and sire were beautifully marked Appaloosas so everyone expected that I would be equally beautiful.  I can just see the expression on their faces when I made my appearance in the spring of 1980.  Don’t get me wrong, I may not look like an Appy, but I’m still beautiful.  My 4-H kid kept me for five years, but she wanted a fancy show horse, and I didn’t fit the bill. 


I went to a home with a woman who really didn’t know how to ride.  Appys don’t suffer fools, so I gave her a hard time.  She tried, but she wasn’t going to keep me either.  She started looking for a new horse to take my place.  Before long, he showed up.  Candyman--what kind of name is that?  He thought we were going to be friends, but I had other ideas--at first.  Then I couldn’t help myself.  He was so cute and he let me boss him around.  I was in heaven.  The woman’s husband didn’t know how to ride either and Candyman didn’t seem to care who rode him.  So lucky me, my rider took thousands of lessons and we finally agreed to disagree.  Life was good.  Candy and I went on regular trail rides.  He was a little braver than I was, so I loved having him by my side.


If you read Candy’s biography, you’ll see that he skipped over the part about when our owners had to give us up.  We went to some really awful places.  One place didn’t separate any of the horses, and being as attractive as I am, I started to attract attention.  The other geldings didn’t like Candyman hanging around me all the time, so they started picking on him.  One day our human mom came to see us and saw an awful wound on Candy where a big bully had kicked him (He still has the scar).  She had to do something fast.


Marcia to the rescue!  Finally, we were going to a home where someone really understood horses. Marcia loved my personality, well maybe not the pushy, nosey, I can’t slow down part.


I found a rider almost right away, Alicia.  We had a great time. She took me to shows.  I thought I owned her.  When she decided to go on to another horse, I was heartbroken.  I don’t think people realize how hard it is for horses to say goodbye to their friends, human or equine.  I found another rider though.  Her name is Amanda and you should hear the way she talks about me.  I can tell she loves me as much as I love her. 


I love to play.  Marcia plays “rock” with me.  She pretends she is going to hit me with a rock and I pretend to run away squealing and jumping straight up in the air.  Then I come back for more.  She knows that horses get bored and need a diversion.    


One thing Marcia doesn’t know about me is that I have been designated as the official historian at DawnMar Ranch Riding Academy.  It is up to me to take note of anything and everything that happens on a daily basis.  I’m keeping meticulous records so that the other horses and I can write our best selling tell-all book.  She just thinks I’m obnoxiously nosey.  Please, keep this between you and me. 


Marcia is always worried about me.  I have this disgusting lump on my hindquarters, which drains intermittently and has not as yet been correctly diagnosed.  Antibiotics help temporarily, but it always comes back.  I have arthritis and I can tell you if I didn’t take my medication, I don’t think I would be able to get out of bed in the morning.  One reason why Alicia didn’t take me to shows anymore was because I kept digging my toes into the dirt and tripping at the canter.  A horse is supposed to land on their heels, not their toes.  Now Marcia has the farrier put my shoes on backward so the extra weight in the heel helps me land correctly.  How smart is that?   


If you think my life here is appysolutely wonderful, you’re thrice right.



Thanks for Reading my Story!!!