Prince Gold Twist was born
on April 22, 1975. I got him in 1977, when I was 10. After I showed him a
year, a girl came up to me and told me that was her horse. I got indignant
and told her he was not! He was mine! Anyway, she explained that he used
to be her horse, and her dad couldn't train him (he hated men riders), so
they sold him. We became best friends, and I am friends with that girl to
this day. He was my first horse that was my very own. I had ridden horses
on the farm where my dad worked since I was three, but that wsn't the same.
I trained him myself for Western Pleasure. He was what I called a left handed
horse. He just couldn't seem to step off on his right lead no matter what.
I got creative and once he learned, he never forgot. He did really well in
Western Pleasure, winning every class he was entered in and 1st highpoint
year end award in the adult and open classes also! When he was 10 years old,
I started running him in barrels. He place 3rd in his first competition out
of 26 horses. Unfortunately, he couldn't stand the strain of barrel racing,
his knees started to bother him in a fast run. I retired him for a few
years.
When he was thirteen, and my daughter was three, we brought him back
out of retirement. His knees seemed fine for her to ride. She showed him
in Western Pleasure by herself when she was only 3. Her legs wouldn't reach
down his sides to cue him, so she told him "walk, jog, wope, weverse, and
whoa. He also listened to the announcer to help her out. She continued to
win award after award on him. She retired him again when he was 18 and she
moved on to barrel racing.
He lived out the rest of his life, until he was 27 years old, on
a 20 acre pasture eating grass as God intended a horse to live. A lot of
people condemned me because he was looking poorly and they thought I should
have stabled him, but he wasn't happy in a stall. I knew he was going downhill
and losing weight, but as long as he didn't seem to be hurting, I wasn't
going to end his life. He was still getting enjoyment out of life. He still
loped up the hill to meet me when I came to feed him. In fact, he loped up
the hill the night before I had to put him down.
We went to the pasture on June 29, 2003 and he was laying down and didn't
get up, so I knew something was wrong. He tried, but just couldn't. While
we were waiting for the vet to arrive, I fed him almost 50 pounds of Equine
Senior feed, I had just bought a bag, didn't have anything else to feed it
to, and it wasn't like it was going to hurt him. He ate every bite! He was
really a chow hound. I remember one time he figured out how to lift the lid
of a hog feeder and ate almost 50 pounds of whole corn. We had to take him
to the vet and get all kids of shots to keep him from foundering. He loved
his feed, so I feel like he left this world happy. I held his head as the
vet administered the medication, he told me he might panic a little, but
he didn't. He just calmly laid his head on my lap and drifted off to sleep.
I buried him under a tree in his pasture with his head facing east to
watch the rising sun.
I will never forget him, and there will never be another to take his place
in our family.
Nancy Hamm
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