Blaze's Story

Well, some of you may know that July is a very special month for me. Four years ago on July 3rd I bought my horse, Blaze. I would like to share the story of how I came to own him. The following story was written just a few months after I bought Blaze back in 2009. 

Just to give you a bit of a setting, I was in Indiana visiting my grandparents for the summer. They had an old horse named Champion that they were going to sell and I had been saving up my money and hoping for a chance to buy a horse to keep at my grandparents farm . . .

It was the night of July second.  I lay in bed, my mind swirling with endless possibilities and numberless emotions.  I was sad to sell Champion, but I knew it was for the best and I was thrilled with the possibility of getting a horse that could potentially be mine.

            I had brought along the money I had saved up just in case we would be heading to the auctions with the hope of getting a horse.  And here I was, unable to sleep with anticipation.  My emotions ranged from tears to giddy hysteria.  I was going crazy.

            After lying in bed, thinking, for some time.  It struck me at how close, but yet how far, I was from seeing one of my biggest dreams fulfilled.  I think it was then that I broke down in tears and started praying.  First, I thanked God for everything he had done for me and blessed me with.  Then, I asked him to give Champion a good home.  And finally, I requested His guidance in finding a horse.  I clearly recall telling Him that if it wasn’t His will for me to get a horse, so be it.  Either way, I would praise Him.  Then, I finished with giving him all my worries and cares about the coming day, and fell asleep.

            Morning came quickly. I got up and dressed, then headed downstairs and outside to get Champion ready. I was up before anyone else.

            I went to his stall and brushed him until his coat shone, put a nice halter on him, then settled on the door of his stall and explained to him what was going on.  He seemed to understand in a strange way.  I felt sad to see a horse that I can say was one of my best friends go.  But I had a peace in my heart about it, and I knew it was God’s will. When I was done bidding good ol' Champ farewell, I returned to the house and ate breakfast. Then it was all business.  Grandpa and I loaded Champion in the trailer, and were on the road in no time.

            After we found a place to park at the auctions in Shipshewana, I unloaded Champion and led him to his spot in the auction pens.  Then, once he was tied securely, Grandpa and I headed out to look at the horses.

            The first horse that fit our requirements (a gelding, broke to ride, 5-10 years old) was a big stocky paint.  He wasn’t a very pretty horse, and to tell the truth, I wasn’t thrilled about him.  But, I was determined to be positive. There was nothing noticeably wrong with the paint, so we put his auction number on our pad of paper and kept looking.  We saw a lot of mares that would’ve worked, but we didn’t want a mare.  After seeing another paint that was skinny and green broke and a buckskin who was a little too old, I was close to giving up at finding a horse that really caught my eye.

            As we were leaving the pen of the Buckskin, I saw a horse being ridden down the isle away from us.  It looked like a gaited horse, but soon turned a corner and vanished from sight.  I told Grandpa, and we tried to find the horse, but couldn’t.  After walking around a bit more, and looking at a few more horses that never would have worked, I spotted the gaited horse again and this time we followed it to its pen.

            The horse’s owner got off and tied him up; Grandpa and I approached and looked the horse over.  He was a medium sized horse, with a rusty roan color, and black mane and tail.  I walked around him, lifted his feet, looked in his mouth, and ran my hands over his soft fur.  I liked what I saw.  So did Grandpa.

            Then we talked with his owner, who was quick to praise the horse (as any person selling something is) and he told us he was an eight year old Tennessee Walking Horse gelding.  Both Grandpa and I like gaited horses, so that added a plus to the Walker’s cause.  But there was one problem.  The Walker’s number was missing, and it was time for the auctions to start.  So we simply wrote ‘Roan Walker’ on our paper and thinned it down to three horses that looked the best.

            It was the big paint, the green broke paint, and the Walker that stayed on the list.  We decided that whichever of the three came in first, would be the one we would bid on.

            It took a long time for the riding horses to get into the ring, so I went to check on Champ and see if the Walker had gotten a number yet.  He had, and it was 89.  I hurried back to Grandpa and we wrote down his number, and then waited.  I think we both were secretly wishing for the Walker to come in first.

            It took forever until the riding horses came in.  One by one we watched horses that weren’t on our list come in and be sold.  Then, the horse we had been waiting for; number 89, came prancing into the ring.  Grandpa started bidding and soon it was up to $600, only one other man and Grandpa were left.  I heard the auctioneer say $650 and then announce “Sold!”  My heart stopped.  I wasn’t sure if we had got him or not, it had gone by so fast.  I looked at Grandpa and asked “Did we get him?”  Grandpa nodded with a smile and said, “We got ‘im.”

            I think I would’ve danced around laughing if we hadn’t been in a public place.  Now all we had to do is wait for Champion to sell.  I left to go find where the Walker had been tied to wait for us to get him.  It took a few tries, but I spotted him in a pen full of horses tied in a neat row.  Then I returned to see Champ sell.  He went for $200.

            Grandpa sent me to wait by the Walker as he went to pay for him.  It took me a few rounds to locate him again, but then I stood at his head outside of the pen and waited for Grandpa.  I spotted Champ in a pen not far away and I was able to see him led off by a kind looking man with his wife and a little girl around 12 years old.  I knew then that my prayers had been answered.  It took all of my strength to hold back tears of joy and thankfulness.  I was overwhelmed.

            As I was waiting, I came up with a name for the Walker.  I chose Blaze, because he had a white blaze running down his face.  It wasn’t a fancy name, but it seemed to fit him.  I recall very clearly standing there and stroking his nose and muttering to myself, “that’s a nice blaze.”  And it stuck as a name which was later extended to Blazing Dream . . . he is, and was, literally a dream that came blazing into reality . . . my Blazing Dream.

            Grandpa arrived shortly after I named him, and we led him away.  It was a blessing to have Blaze walk right into the horse trailer without even hesitating.  Then we climbed into the truck, and were on our way home.

            When we arrived, I was glowing as I led Blaze out of the trailer and to his new stall.  I gave him some hay, and then just stood there for several minutes watching as he sniffed around and nibbled his hay.  I don’t think that the fact I had my own horse struck me fully until a few days later.  But I remember telling Blaze, “You are mine, boy, my very own horse.”

After he had settled down in his stall, we turned him out into the front field by himself.  He walked around a bit then started eating the grass.  He seemed to settle right in.  And I knew from then on, my life would never be the same again.

 Blaze, the day I bought him :)

© Copyright Charity K, 2013