I have a story that needs telling. It's a story of time and dreams. It's the kind of story that can only be explained by God moving parts and pieces that you had no idea would amount to something someday.
When I was a teenager, I had the opportunity to work on a Rocky Mountain Horse farm in Vermont with wonderful people who patiently taught me about this wonderful breed of horse. It was a fall in- your- lap sort of opportunity. I didn't go looking. It literally just fell into my lap. A neighbor recommended my friend and I to the owner of the farm when he started looking for some help with the horses.
I loved evey second. I learned to care for foals, handle youngsters, ride unridden horses, ride a stallion, show, care for pregnant mares, trail ride, trim hooves, learn about breeding horses, genetics, you name it. I enjoyed every aspect they threw at me except the occasional goodbye to horses we loved.
I dreamed of have my own horse farm someday.
Fast forward, I got married, had a family, had a couple horses early on, sold them, had more babies, spent time painting pictures of horses, and finally got to have my Rocky gelding; our family horse. My kids ride him, my husband has ridden him. I trained him myself. My 11 year old at the time helped get him certified. We are blessed to experience this wonderful breed!
The farm I worked at was sold as the owners retired to Florida and sold all their horses.
Here's where the story takes an interesting turn.
Through a casual search of the Rocky Mountain Horse pedigree database, which I occasionally look at to see where some of their horses ended up, I found out that one of the fillies they raised had been bred and had a colt. So I looked up his name to see if I could find out where he ended up and found him at a farm two hours away from me.
I decided to click their sale page to see if he was on it and I find the mother, one of Cedar Grove Farm's mares they raised staring back at me listed for sale with a March 2025 due date for her next baby! I had helped work with her mother when she was young! I even have a painting of the mother on my living room wall.
At this point I was just thrilled to see she was being utilized as a brood mare and that my friend's horses were continuing the line.
But I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask for a price, expecting full well for it to be out of my price range.
I tell my husband, I tell my friends about finding one of their old horses and I even prayed that if it wasn't meant to happen, the door would be solidly closed. Then I waited to hear back.
When he e-mailed me with a fair price, I nearly cried. I send the info to my husband, still unsure if we could pull it off, but knowing this was a ridiculous find that may never show up again and he came back with a definitive yes to it.
So I make arrangements to visit and make a deposit and set up a plan to get her home.
Somewhere in the midst I realize that I had met her before when I lived back in Vermont briefly while my husband was away for the army. My older kids had even seen her and I happened to find a photo of them petting her when we had gone to visit.
So seeing her and petting on her was just unreal and felt like I was dreaming.
I never imagined I would actually start my Rocky Mountain Farm with a Cedar Grove Farm mare. It was too big a dream to imagine it coming true in that way. I always thought I'd find a mare that would have some familiar names in her pedigree. This is way beyond what I ever imagined would be possible.
So here I am, trying to patiently wait for my dream horse to arrive next month.
I have a few things to do to get her paddock and shelter ready for a baby, but I eagerly wait for this amazing story to come full circle. Nothing could have prepared me for such a special story and start to my own Rocky Mountain Horse farm.
Dream big, friends. You just never know what might be in store a few years down the road.
