Category: News

a love story by Rachel Bisillon

It’s been almost a week since my best friend left this earth. Only today have I begun to wrap my head around the fact that I won’t be able to ever see him again, poking his head out from stall; his scattered blaze, few strands of forelock, and little white crescent enveloping the inside of his left eye.

Our colors were navy and white.  He loved cheez-its, rolling in new shavings, and jumping pairs with my best friend and her horse.

Saying that Fran was “just a horse,” isn’t fair. He was my wonderwall, my world.

We met four years ago, but I began riding him for the past three. This sounds cliché, but from the moment I laid eyes on him, I knew we would be inseparable. He always had a Christmas stocking and I would always bring him his Halloween pumpkin, because that’s just how we were.

We both had our quirks and insecurities, but that’s what brought us together. I  knew the reason I loved him was because he was like an awkward teenage boy; the way he yawned before you bridled him, the way he would be shy and quiet one day and the next day he would be in “freaky Fran” mode, and the astounding change from insecure to confident in less than a second. But nonetheless, I continued to love him till the day we put him to rest.

One of my favorite things was watching him with the kids. Fran being so gentle, just plodding around the arena with only the intent of giving them a safe ride, then hearing the kids ramble on about how great of a horse he is and how perfect and fun he is, while I just nod and smile, because I feel exactly the same way.

And to even just say I loved him was an understatement, because I treasured and admired every single part and everything about him. Even at our first show when he threw me off three times, I never stopped loving him because that’s exactly who he is and it was a lesson in itself, “you cannot expect to trust others if you do not first trust yourself.”

He was always there for me, through thick and thin, and that’s why I decided to spend the night with him before he was put down. I spent the whole night talking to him, feeding him whatever he wanted, and singing him the Taylor Swift song I always quote him with.

Fran was my everything because he was there for everything; the day I ditched school because I couldn’t take it anymore, the days I felt like jumping cross rails and even the days I felt like jumping the moon, and of course, our many attempts at trail rides (he never was a fan.)

He was there the night I wanted to hurt myself, with an open heart and he ate my cheez-its with solitude while I cried into his shoulder. We spent his last few minutes together, me sobbing and feeding him cookies, him nuzzling my hair. He had never left me when I was in pain and hurting, therefore I was not about to leave him. Saying goodbye to him that morning was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and am so grateful to have had so much love and support through it from everyone. I can’t say how long it will take for me to realize that he is actually gone; no more jumping or bareback rides around the trails or grazing sessions or Rachel-cries-Fran-cribs sessions, but no matter how many other horses I ride or lease or own or jump or help kids with, he will always be my #1, Forever and Always my Wonderwall. 

Today being New Year’s Day, we find ourselves looking forward with hope.  Wise folks tell say looking back is a waste of time.  I disagree.  Reflecting fondly and taking time to mourn those we have lost is sweet sorrow.  It adds beautiful layers to our lives.

What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal. Albert Pike

I was struggling all night with how to tell our community about yesterday’s  loss of Fran, one of our schoolmasters.  Loss is so different for each family and I never know how each individual child, how each volunteer and each friend will process the  large loss of a wonderful school horse.  This quote brought it home for me.

“What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal.” Albert Pike

And who embodies this more than a school horse and in particular our friend Fran?

In many ways, Fran was a Square Peg.  He was goofy, he was often spooky.  His overlarge eyes bulged  from his thin head, his terrible feet (his undoing) looked like puddles that leaked from his stovepipe legs. He had a weak back, a rough trot and a neck like a giraffe. He cribbed furiously. He was useless on the trail.   He would fall madly in love with any mare you put next to him and he’d pine desperately if she went away.  He couldn’t be turned out with the other geldings because he would be so far at the bottom of the pecking order we didn’t think he’d survive.

To us, he was beloved and perfect.

He had quirks too.  If you didn’t give him time to roll before a lesson, he might drop to the ground with a child on his back and give a roll in the best school saddle.  Before you put a bit in his mouth, you had to wait while he yawned not once, but twice.  Every. Single. Time.  He didn’t do tricks, you couldn’t swing a polo mallet on him.

I think it was his goofiness and his insecurity that made him such a favorite around here.  He was  awkward and so sweet, you simply loved him. He repaid you with affection and gave you everything he had. He was our best horse in drivelines- his janky trot was a joy to some of the ASD kids who loved the rhythmic jolting. Conversely, his canter was so smooth and slow that even if he bucked, the kids stayed on.  For no physical reason, he could jump and he loved it.  But get one iota in front of him to a jump and he was guaranteed to stop.  Nobody taught you how to sit up to a fence like Franny.

On his last day, he ate carrots and cookies until I thought he would burst.  I told his cadre of adoring teens that they could stay with him until the vet came and then they would have to say goodbye and leave.  I told them that it would serve no purpose for them to be there when Greg, Dr. Cloninger and I did what had to be done.  They agreed and hugged and kissed him while the vet parked.  The girls had no sooner driven out the gate when Fran collapsed.  I know in my heart that he stayed upright for them. I think he did it for me and for Greg also.  He let us know that it really was time.  It was a kindness so profound and so selfless it leaves me breathless.

“What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal.” Albert Pike

Dear Franny – thank you for the ride – it was a good one.

Okay, I blew it.  Our carefully planned 12 Days of Christmas campaign idea was to share cute stories of the horses and let our community know sweet things, large and small that they can do to help out the ranch.  So far, we have received three blankets, bags of carrots, donations of funds and even chocolate for our staff ;-)  I was going to post something every day.  I could blame this rough weather, the short days and 100’s of emails waiting to be returned.

But the truth is that we just can’t shake the cloud overhead related to the December 14 tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary.  The sheer ferocity of the violence and the depth of the loss colors every thought.  Every time I sat down to write a Christmas wish, I was consumed instead by a need to connect with other people so that we could help each other process this sorrow.

At it’s best  this miracle called the internet connects us as never before in history. I found myself running into the office between rain storms to check the progress of a couple of online movements that might help you too.

Autism Shines developed amidst the rumor the Sandy Hook shooter was “kind of autistic” according to a young man who went to school with him. Autism families across the globe sucked in their breath upon reading this knowing that the public was searching for an easy answer to the atrocities. An autism mom needed the world to understand that autism and violence are not synonymous and she encouraged other families to post photos of their autistic children and what they love and what they mean to their families.  I admit to obsessively rolling through these photos  crying and celebrating with these families the people they know and love.  Here are just a few to share:

https://www.facebook.com/AutismShines

It’s a beautiful sentiment and I’m struck by the experience that each family has made for themselves by picking a photo and writing their description of how they want the world to recognize someone they love who happens to be autistic.  It’s a lovely healing thought and I hope that you enjoy and participate as is appropriate.

And now for the Square Peg Christmas Wish.

As the person who has to make a left hand turn onto Hwy 92 at rush hour every day in order to get home, I’m not  sure, but it’s been easier to make that left turn lately.  Why?  Because some kind soul slows and flashes their lights and lets me in.

The Facebook movement 26 Acts of Kindness suggests we honor the victims of the Sandy Hook Elementary by committing 26 random acts of kindness.  The originality and the creativity and the kindness of the stories just might restore your faith in humankind. I’ll admit that I’ve spent some of my commuting time thinking about what my next random act may be.  Something as simple as telling someone they look nice today, calling on a neighbor who might be alone this holiday season, baking 26 cookies and delivering them to the local firehouse, leaving a $5 bill in a library book, paying for the coffee for the lady behind you at Starbucks.  Simple, random and kind are the only parameters and it’s been a healing salve for my sore soul and it’s a lot more fun than Christmas shopping.

I’m going to challenge you one further, I’m going to suggest that you commit 27 Random Acts of Kindness.  While we have been encouraged not to publicize the name of the shooter, he too was a victim of this massacre and the amount of pain that drove him to such madness is something we cannot fathom.  If you don’t agree, I understand.  I do.  So if you feel like 26 Random Acts of Kindness is all you can do, that will be enough. And if in your hurry to get home during rush hour traffic, you slow down enough for a giant dirty green truck to turn left onto the highway, I promise to pay your act of kindness forward.

From all of the soggy folks and critters at Square Peg Ranch to you – have a peaceful Holiday and never forget the power of simple kindness.

Sammy really is a rockstar!  This lovely 14 year old son of All Thee Power out of the hard knocking mare Red Weather has always been willing to work.  He even completed two 30 mile endurance rides in fine form (somebody told me that a Thoroughbred couldn’t do endurance racing and so I just had to prove them wrong).

This year, Sam and his buddy Stan took us to the Abilities Expo in San Jose to demonstrate HorseBoy work.  Sammy was solid as can be under the lights and with all of the kids.  It’s clear that he’s called to do more and more work with ASD kids.  This coming year, he’s going to be our “go to” horse for camps and sessions.

But Sammy has a very long and weak back and the only way to protect him from getting sore is to do a lot of slow and consistent conditioning.  Sammy’s Christmas wish is for a “German Martingale” otherwise known as a “Market-Harbor.”  It’s a simple and humane training device that helps him to develop his top line muscles.  Also, he’s such a big guy that the Driving Lines we use are simply too short.   Sammy could also use his own set of Drive Lines.

Items can be shipped UPS  or USPS to the ranch:

Square Peg Ranch c/o Canyon Creek Equestrian Center, 11631 San Mateo Road, Half Moon Bay, CA 94019

Yesterday, we were going to start our 12 Days of Christmas at this website.  Each day, we will feature a horse and what that horse might want for Christmas.  It will be darling with photos and silliness.

But the news yesterday of the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School made us as Americans, as parents and as humans pause to reflect on the sanctity of human life, especially the lives of children.  While we all struggle with how to wrap our heads around the horror of the incident and the kind of pain that would drive a young man to enact the most ferocious violence possible, we would like to take a moment to hug the children we love and to ponder the collective acts of kindness that we must all perform to help us overcome the grief.

Here are some links that might help remind us that there is good and beauty in the world.

26 things to restore your faith in humanity. 

A reminder that humans, no matter where we live, love dance and laughter.

For the horse lovers – a fabulous rescue story.

Please use the comments below to share your favorite links about kindness, courage and goodness.

Remember to Pay it Forward, it’s our only way through this grief.

We hope to be back tomorrow to bring you stories of the horses and the kids and how they enrich our lives.

Square Peg Foundation changes the lives of special needs and at risk children. Over the past year, over 120 children and their families struggling with autism, homelessness, ADHD, attachment and development disorders turned to Square Peg for help.

With your support we can serve more children and their families, as they learn to ride and care for rescued horses.

Square Peg Foundation is a 501(c)(3) non-profit working towards the greater good of our community and beyond (learn more).

Your tax-deductible gift will enable us to:

– Continue to provide a safe and caring place for children and teens to learn horsemanship, care for rescued animals and be a part of a nurturing community.

– Rescue, care for and retrain more horses that deserve another chance at life.

– Grow our Autism Family Camps to serve more families, and communities.

With your help we can make significant change, and give more children and animals the hope they need most.

Please be generous.

Sincerely,

Joell Dunlap
Executive Director, Square Peg Foundation

Jack’s life was charmed.  He was a good racehorse, then an excellent show horse – trained and loved by responsible horsemen.  He repaid everyone with performance and affection.  In 2008, he lost his left eye, thus losing his place in the show community.  Official rules in the hunter ring labeled him as unsound.

So Jack came to Square Peg.  I hope you will believe us when we say that he marched fearlessly down trails and he jumped everything.  He taught beginners and advanced riders with alacrity. He approached everyone with openness and friendliness. He was one of the happiest souls we have ever known.  He never hesitated, and he never made excuses.  In doing so, he touched lives – the lives of kids who lived with disability, loneliness and hardship everyday.

Jack’s attitude toward what others might see as a glaring disability — a literal hole in his head where his eye should have been — had something to teach everyone at the ranch.

We lost Jack in late September most likely to heart attack. That sad morning, he was just gone, no sign of struggle or distress. He’d laid down and left us. In his life, he served everyone he knew with courage and cheer. We miss him so much. But we remind ourselves to be grateful for the gifts he gave and the lessons he taught us all.  Jack modeled how our attitude toward life’s challenges makes all the difference.

Two weeks later, the call from the racetrack came in.  “Can you take this four year old gelding?  He needs a home and the owners are getting restless.”  We called all our contacts, we thought for sure he would be easy to place.  He was physically and mentally sound, a great size, excellent bloodlines and conformation.  Certainly someone would want this handsome young horse?  But times are still hard and a home was not to be found.  And a home is just what he needed.

Winter is the wrong time to bring a healthy horse right from the track when feed is high and daylight for training is short. None of the staff had the time or the bandwidth to take on another project.  But he came anyway.  He’s now in the stall where Jack used to be.

Nobody will ever replace Jack of course.  But that doesn’t mean that our hearts didn’t break wide open for this kind and sweet gelding.  He’s fallen in love with Bob, the world’s best pony and we’ve fallen for him.

It is in Jack’s honor that we take on Confer, aka: “Slim Shady.”

Thank you Jack, for all the wonderful gifts that you have given us.

It’s that time of year again, time for us to ask for your support.  Your donation helps us save the lives of these horses and in return, they give joy to the kids who know the courage it takes to be a Square Peg.

Autumn is Half Moon Bay’s best weather.  Cool mornings and often the warmest afternoons of the year make us all a little bit giddy.  There’s very little fog and oh, what are those green and orange things dotting the fields – they’re pumpkins my friends and they are growing and morphing into the giant thing-a-ma-jigs that thousands upon thousands will drive to Half Moon Bay to behold.  Which translates (unfortunately) to traffic on Hwy 92.

The Half Moon Bay Annual Pumpkin Festival is October 13 and 14, 2012.  The barn will be closed.  No lessons and only the most stoic of volunteers will brave the tangle of traffic that invades our lovely little canyon each year.

Me, I’ll be visiting family in the northern-most part of California on the one weekend of the entire year when the barn is closed.  Enjoy that pumpkin pancake followed by pumpkin ice cream and washed down with pumpkin beer.

I know, I know, we just keep going on about surf and turf camp.  Why?  Let us show you why – take a look at IndoJax’s video below – while it goes specifically into the surf day of camp – and how magical that camp was, surfing was just a part of that magic.  Heck, horses were just a part of that magic.  The whole magic unfolded for a number of important reasons.  I could list them, but here  are words from a mom – the real heros of this story:

“The most incredible feature of the camp was the underlying spirit of caring, helping, community, and generosity that surrounded us during the 3 days.  We were all part of something much bigger than we could describe or see. We all shared a common goal of reaching past what seems possible to accomplish with our children, and extend ourselves into an unknown territory of “”what if”” and “”maybe”” and hope.   There is a phrase that “”it takes a village to raise a child””, but finding that village can be difficult in today’s world.  I felt that it was really there during those 3 days.

I was amazed at how all the volunteers (surfing, camping, horse riding) were so engaging with the kids, and how willing they were to play with the kids.   This gave me a huge break from constant childcare, which translates into a huge decline in stress level.  It was 3 days of respite for me.

 

I personally liked the small group of campers better than a large group.   My child doesn’t like large groups with lots of noise and confusion, so the smaller group was perfect for us.   It also allows for him not to feel as “”lost”” as he often does in a big group.

Camping was great.   But then, we love camping.  Being in nature is so very healing and renewing for us. It was great it was near to home too.

Having an SNK can be so exhausting and lonely, that it truly seemed like a miracle to have so many volunteers willing and wanting to help.  I cried when I saw 5 people around the surf board with my son, all helping him and encouraging him.  I don’t know if I’ve ever been blessed with such extravagence of generosity of community…. just in the simple act of helping.

My child likes sensory stimulation of waves in the ocean, so the surfing was a great extension of that.  He has been SOO proud of learning to do a sport that most of his friends don’t do.  Like many other kids on the spectrum, he has difficulty with team sports, and is left out of most of those. So the surfing and horsebackriding were great.

I liked that the camp didn’t pressure the kids to ride or surf.   My son likes to watch most everything first, and observe it for a long time before he participates.    Those hours when he isn’t surfing or riding, or even participating in the music circle aren’t lost on him… he is soaking up so very much. I was actually quite amazed that the surfing instructor and horseback riding instructors had the magic touch to get him out of his comfort zone to try riding and surfing.

The unstructured time was good because it gave the kids time to be themselves and chose activities to play. The swords worked out great!!

Probably the number one reason this camp worked for us was that it was for parents and children together. My child won’t do a camp by himself without a parent, and it’s hard to find camps for both parent and child.

I loved the music circle.   The person who came to do it was fabulous.

The food was fabulous, and just knowing that it came from such a wonderful restaurant was amazing.

After we got home, my child did some things in the next week that I’ve rarely seen him do before, mostly that involved getting out of his shell.   The camp did wonders for his self-esteem and self-confidence — just being accepted, welcomed, and built up by so many genuinely caring volunteers was invaluable and unmeasurable.   For me, the camp was a much needed respite, and encouragement.  I learn more from other parents of SNKs than I ever learn from our MDs or books, so being able to have time to meet other parents and get to know them was wonderful.  For me, having an SNK has been so lonely and difficult, and just being given the opportunity to participate in something so generous felt like a miracle.”