Bailey (aka "Pain-In-The-Ass Old Man")

Oh Bailey, good 'ole Bailey. My old man.

Fluffy winter coat

This horse, this one here^, is one lucky son-of-a-bitch. I didn't fall in love with Bailey the way I fell in love with Blake, though I met him the same way. He came to Maybury in the spring of 2005. Most of the horses we got came from the local auction. Some, like Bailey, came from private sellers, and some were given to my boss from friends or family or donated to the stable. Every year at the beginning of each season, my boss would pick up a few horses that he thought might prove to be good trail horses, and we'd try them out. Us trail guides would ride the new horses for a few weeks or months to see if they had the potential to behave well enough to pack around beginners. It would often take a whole year of trail guides riding them before they were ready to go to work, but usually after a few weeks you could tell if one was going to work out or not.The ones that didn't work out went back to the auction to find themselves a new career.

This cycle happened a couple times each spring, and we'd get a few good new horses out of it each year. I didn't know a lot about auctions back then- I knew the horses could pretty much be picked up by anyone, kind or cruel (in a Black Beauty sort of way). If I'd known then what I know about auctions now... well maybe I'd have been more worried. But I was young and naive.

When Bailey came in the spring of 2005, he instantly captured everyone's attention, being palomino (yeah yeah, we were young and he was a "cool" color). We soon figured out that he was a PAIN-IN-THE-ASS. Bailey was hot. Bailey was hard-mouthed. Bailey threw his head in the air for no apparent reason. Getting on Bailey, and he jigged around the corral and then continuously "asked" to bolt while you were out on trail (he wouldn't actually bolt or try to, but he was obviously waiting for the cue to take off like a rocket). Us guides switched off riding him throughout the summer. Some of the guides, while riding him, handled him...well, differently. One girl tried to correct his head throwing by forcing his head against his chest rollkur-style for the better part of an hour's ride. I cried when I saw that his mouth was visibly bruised. I had already taken a liking to the spunky 19-year-old yellow horse. [Side note: I didn't like the way she rode him and I thought it was horrible, but looking back, we were all young, and we were all learning. We all made mistakes (lord knows I made a ton), and she probably knows better now.]

After that, only a few people rode Bailey- primarily me and one other girl. She and I liked him more than anyone else did. He was a pain, but we liked his firey attitude. He was firey, but he wasn't scary in the way some hot horses are- I wasn't nervous riding him (though, to be honest, I was 17 and wasn't scared of anything). He wouldn't buck or rear or get angry. He just really liked to be constantly moving, and usually at a fast pace. His walk was fast. His trot was fast. His "stand" was non-existent. He was not an ideal riding stable horse, but for some reason, my boss stuck it out with him, to see if he'd get better throughout the season.

In early October, when I was told Blake would be mine at the end of the month, my boss wanted to get every ride out of Blake that he could- so he assigned Bailey as my guide horse nearly every day. I remember telling another good friend of mine, that I really liked Bailey. And that if Blake didn't exist, I'd probably take Bailey instead. She asked me if I'd ever consider having two horses, and I replied something along the lines of "I wish." I was happy to just be getting one! No need to get greedy (or broke).

And so Blake was officially mine at the end of October. My horse, all mine, I could see him and ride him and hug him whenever I wanted, and I didn't have to ask permission. I rode him all the time, even after the working season ended in November. My life was complete! And then in early December I got a phone call from my boss. He told me that he was just about to pack up a couple of horses that didn't work out this season and take them to the auction the next day, and Bailey was one of them. He wasn't going to call me, but apparently my friend told him to ask me if I wanted Bailey first (that horse can thank his lucky stars that I have a friend like her). He was almost as shocked as I was, something along the lines of "Didn't you just buy a horse? Like a month and a half ago?" And I was like, "Yeah... " And so he asked, "well, do you want him or not?" I asked him if I could have a week to think about it. I needed to do some budgeting.

After a lot of thought and calculating, I figured I could do it. And I liked Bailey, I didn't want that crazy old man to go to auction. He deserved better than that. My parents were totally against it. I was still 17 and in high school, living at my parents' house. I bought Blake all on my own, and planned on paying his board and vet bills all on my own (I kept that promise). I grew up in middle-class suburbia, but my parents weren't the type to just throw money at me for horses. Especially when they saw them as Large Dangerous Beasts.

I never did get my parents' approval to buy Bailey, but it was my hard-earned money, and if my brother was going to use his to buy a bunch of old jeeps to work on, well, they weren't going to keep me from my favorite hobby/dream/life-calling. In order to get them to stop badgering me about the bad decisions I was about to make, I had to convince them that if I ever got into a tight spot financially, Bailey would be the first to go, and who knows? Maybe I wouldn't even own him that long. I just wanted to try it. They took this as a good argument, and let me be. Thank you, parents.

So on December 9th, I called my boss back and said, "Don't take him to the auction, I'll buy him." I felt like a crazy person. I walked up to his door the next day, and on December 10th, 2005, a little over a month after I had bought Blake, I had a second horse. And our names all started with Bs (aren't we special?).

The boys. Eatin' grass.

Long story short, I did manage to pay for both horses. Bailey came with me to college, and then on to graduate school, helped me cope with Blake's death, and then was subjected to a second cross-country trip when we moved to my current location (poor old man). Bailey will be 27(?) this December. I don't know his actual birthday or any of his history. The horses who came to our stable rarely had papers. In 2006 during his annual checkup, my vet told me he thought he was "somewhere between 18 and 22." I picked 20 and have been counting from there, with his birthday on the day I bought him.

Recent picture of my old man, taken a few months ago. Nom nom, grass.

  
Bailey and I don't ride anymore. We did up until about 5 months ago, though. The two cross-country trips were hard on his joints (Bailey has high ringbone in both front legs, which is aggravated by trailering). He managed to become sound for short, slow rides several months after the first move, but lately he's showing his age a lot. We take dog-walks down the road now for exercise, and even in-hand he tries to pull ahead. He's pasture-sound as well, I've seen him fight and run around with the other horses out there. He's still a hot, crazy, old man, and he's got a home until he dies.