16 ARCHIVE | May 3, 2012 Moms and Horses


What is YOUR favorite horse story shared with your mom?


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Born with manure in my hair... Jenny O’Curran, Escondido, CA


y mom gave me the love of horses at an early age. She was an avid horsewoman who told me I was born


with manure in my hair. She had my sister and I on horses before we could walk — one in front and one in back...out on the trail we would go! My mother fox-hunted and did the open jumpers in her day. She literally rode up until the day she went into a coma and passed away. My favorite memory with my mom was to watch the grand prixes... every one we could get to!


Hail storms and steel umbrellas... Diane Netter, Escondido, CA


hail storm — we didn’t notice the dark, suspicious clouds looming on the horizon that hot summer


day. “Mom, I’m going riding with Janell!,” I yelled over my shoulder as I ran out the door in shorts and a tank top. “Put some shoes on!,” Mom yelled out the window. I smiled and waved but, being a typical 13-year old, completely ignored her request. Janell and I always rode bareback and barefoot during those carefree teen-aged years. The noon day sun bore down on us, as we headed out of my backyard corral toward a nearby river. We didn’t see the storm that was following us until we got to our picnic spot, and by then a strong breeze was blowing and it started to sprinkle. The unfriendly clouds were directly overhead and the temperature had dropped dramatically. We hopped on our horses and headed back home, as the sprinkles turned into pouring rain. Then it started to hail. Hard balls of ice struck our bare arms and legs, producing large, red welts. Our horses were running now, tossing their heads nervously in response to the pelting ice. Janell and I tucked our heads into our horses’ necks, letting them have free rein to find their way home. It seemed to take forever, but finally my trusty


their mothers who support them in their endeavors.


M Diane Netter


steed bolted into the corral and under her protective shelter. I jumped off, crying from the painful welts. Just then my sweet mom appeared, running from the house with a metal washtub over her head for protection. Grabbing my arm, she pulled me under her steel “umbrella,” and together we raced back to the house. The hail pelted the metal, causing a deafening roar, but I was glad for the protection. I know Mom must have been anxiously watching for me out the window when the unexpected hail storm arrived, and I was so grateful she was there to rescue me with her makeshift shield that afternoon. It made me realize that no matter how grownup I felt, I would always need Mom’s loving umbrella of protection.


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She worked so we had horses... Doris Findley Lora, Tehachapi, CA


t is more about my mom, Myra, than a horse. She wasn’t much into animals, although we had every farm animal you


could name. She supported our interests in 4-H club and would haul us to various shows. But, the best of all is that she was willing to work at a very hard and dirty job moving the U.S. mail, before the machines came in to sort it. She worked this job so we could continue to have horses. It was and still is an expensive lifestyle. She passed 11 years ago. We still have horses in our life and I am thankful for her endurance to keep us enjoying our livestock. I hope all young equestrians will give thanks to


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A perfect day...riding the trail Stephanie Williams, Torrance, CA


y favorite horsestory with my mother was many years ago. One day my mother and I took our two


horses out on a two-hour trail ride. It was the first time my mother had ridden for an extensive period of time. It is by far one of my favorite memories of us riding Silver and Retso through the trails. I will forever cherish those kinds of memories, and it was essentially a perfect day. I love my mom and she continues to be my main supporter even now before I go to law school.


My horse in her hands... Carmela Bozulich, Rowland Heights, CA


y mom was diabetic and suffered from kidney failure the last few years of her life. I bought my first


horse, Spirit, a bit before she passed. She never understood my horse passion, being a New York City girl herself, but one day she asked me to drive her to the stable where I boarded Spirit so she could meet “her grandson.” I remember taking her out there, and she couldn’t get out of the car easily, so I walked him over to the passenger side window that she had rolled down, and he stuck his head in. She actually petted him and didn’t seem at all bothered by his attentions. I will always have that picture of her hands on his head in my heart.


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Through love, much is learned... Molly Rush, Riverside, CA


s a child, my mother and I supported our family by delivering newspapers. At 12, I was, of course, wanting


a horse more than anything else in the world. The newspaper cost $2 a month and Please see Page 28


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