gentle giant—until it came to fence posts. He had an itchy butt. Yes, he was wormed regularly so that wasn’t the problem. He just loved to scratch his hind end. The problem was that he scratched too hard and was breaking eight-inch fence posts like toothpicks. I wasn’t crazy about constantly mending fences. It later dawned on us that he was bored. That
realization hurt. Neither of us, unfortunately, could give him the time he needed. We tried but decided he needed a real job, and we sold him to a giant New Zealander who has a fencing business—the perfect buyer. To this day he takes Lance to the ocean for
frequent beach rides. Lance is perfectly happy, and so am I, knowing he is still loved. Much has changed since those early
Suddenly the skies opened and it was Niagara Falls; the neighbors were looking out to see where the rain was coming from. Don’t you just love a birthing storm? It was a long, wet afternoon, but extremely special. Those two foals warmed my heart and further prepared me how to take farm life in stride.
Settled In As time passed by on the farm, I became more comfortable being around these incredible animals. I was developing a very deep respect for them and got to know their individual personalities. Even today as I observe them, I marvel at what I’ve missed in my life. I consider myself an animal lover, but I never knew the depth of attachment between human and horse, especially so with Holsteiners. Speaking of incredible horses, one year Karen bought me a
Clydesdale gelding for Christmas. It’s a stretch, but Lance was my very own “Warmblood.” Our goal was to ride him to the local deli restaurant in summer for a slurpy or cart him in one of the colorful local small town summer parades. We bought a cart and I had great fun, first in the arena and then out into the local neighborhood. Lance was a spectacle everywhere we went. He was even featured
on a local television showcase of offbeat businesses. He was the epitome of the
82 January/February 2012
years. Foals come and go. Famous beloved friends like our stallion Linaro die and leave us heartbroken for life. I’ve learned enough to be dangerous now: I can see a colic approach;
I know when a winter abscess is the cause of discomfort and how to treat it; I can recognize a “9” movement in a foal at a glance. Yet nothing, but nothing, beats the end of the day when I trek out to the barn to check on the stallions’ water and to give them individual attention with a snack for the night like an apple or carrot. I could easily spend hours out there trying to teach them English. My adjustment to being around these magnificent animals is, for the most part, finished. The sink hole I was drowning in my first few days on the farm has become solid ground. Living on a Holsteiner breeding farm is a journey that continues on and is one that I’ll cherish forever.
Mike and Lance
All photos courtesy Mike Campbell
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