3544 Eighth Street, Thatcher, AZ March 16, 2011

I placed, photographed and documented #97 at the corner of the ranch where Spade lives.
Since the death of my first horse, Princess Lulu, in the Fall of 2010, I struggled with whether or not to purchase another horse. I decided that, preferable, it would be a horse from a cattle ranch. I’ve adored the ranch horses that I’ve ridden. Their "job training" makes them versatile and unflappable - obedient.
Outside of me riding this horse for pleasure, it will also function in the role as my "hospice horse." I put together sort of a program for the terminally ill cowboys and cowgirls receiving our hospice services. In the past some of them requested to spend some time with a horse before they die. If they lived within a few mile radius, I would ride Lulu over to who ever’s home they were spending their last days at.
There was this particular elderly cowboy who had his visit with Lulu in the AM. Only a few hours after we had left his home - the man died. He had gotten his last dying wish. Then Princess Lulu ended up in "hospice" herself due to a malignant tumor in her eye. In the end, she had to be put down. I’ll never forget that October day, when the rancher I paid to follow through with that horrible task, came and picked her up. Lady Latte, my other horse, cried out for Lulu all that following night. My heart still aches whenever I think about that day. I swore that I would never get another horse. I swore I wouldn’t ever let myself be vulnerable to that kind of pain again.
The local sheriff and rancher had to thin out his 17 horse herd. That’s how Spade, half quarter horse and half thoroughbred, came on the market. What a dream to ride this gelding and so unflappable. The only draw back to this horse was his height and the fact that he was very difficult to mount without me climbing up on something because of my bad left knee. The only problem Spade presented was an inability to line up and stand still next to objects I chose to help me dismount. He would continually swing out his hind quarters no matter what approach I tried with him.
I told the cowboy, who was the sheriff’s son, if he could teach Spade to line up with the objects I needed him to so I could mount and dismount - he had a sale. The young man said he would work on that task with Spade, then give me a call.
I’m still waiting for that call. Cowboy and indian icon art piece #97 is in tribute to Spade.
May he find his proper home on the range.