The Knight of the Inspiring Horse

Introduction. n November of 2011, Coco and I held an elaborate dinner party to honor the six “Knights of Dellamata”. These were men who had come along side me during special times in my life and helped me in some very significant way. Each Knight was given a title and a flagon with his name and title on it. I wrote a missive entitled “The Tales of the Dellamata Knights” in which I recounted what the respective knights had done to warrant their recognition. This tale is about Mike (Milford) Wampold and the important role that the horse he gave Coco and me played in my life.

After we moved to Dellamata, Coco wanted a horse. I did not. I knew how much trouble and expense horses would be. So I said I would not buy a horse. Undeterred, Coco went looking for a “free” horse. Kitty Griffin told her about a retired thoroughbred that was being given away. Coco asked me to come look at it with her which I did. Sway back. Worn out. No way.  After church at Grace, Mike went with us to the Magnolia Café for lunch. He had heard from Sophie, who was working at Grandmother’s Buttons, about Coco’s horse lust and asked the status. Mike offered to breed his Arabian mare to his champion Saddlebred Paint stud and then bring the bred mare to us and let us keep the colt. That was an offer I could not refuse.

Taj was born on Easter morning in 2009. He was, of course, Coco’s colt. But I did find myself spending more and more time with him. I purchased a book by Cherry Hill on how to “start a horse” and followed her advice with Taj from the time he was three months old. (As noted in Section II, in the story about Merry Legs, I had “broken” several horses as a teenager at Valhalla. Breaking was now out of fashion.)

Second only to Cream, Taj was the most spirited animal I have ever been around. When Eric Morris, the farrier first worked on him, he told me “Mr. David, that thare is a spir a tit horse! You got yo hands full.”

When Taj was about a year old, per Cherry Hill’s advice, I began doing “groundwork” with him using Princeton Bardwell’s portable round pen. I had never lunged a horse when breaking them as a teenager, so this was new to me. Unfortunately, I could not get Taj to read the book with me and follow the lunging instructions. So, I called a horse trainer who I had met through Mike who I will refer to as Helga and asked her to swing by when convenient and give me some pointers on doing groundwork. A few days later, Helga stopped by and observed me trying to lung Taj, who was being very uncooperative. Her advice was to stop working with the horse immediately and get a professional trainer to do it. She said obviously I didn’t Know very much about horses and If I continued working with Taj, she warned I would screw him up and it would take her or another professional trainer a lot more effort to fix him. Considering my history with horse training, that really irked and motivated me. I vowed (to myself) that one day I would prove to her that I could train a horse and do it well.

Shortly after Helga’s visit, around mid-night one night, I was awakened by a noise in the carport. Taj had gotten out and was up to mischief. So, I got up and got an 10’ long heavy nylon rope and converted it into a halter. I took the time to tie it such that the loop over Taj’s nose had a slip knot on it. Still in pajamas, I put on my boots and led the horse back to his pasture. This was no problem, since I had spent a lot of time halter-breaking him. That is until we reached the open gate through which he had escaped. Just as we were walking through it, Taj stopped and refused to go in. When I tightened down on the halter to force him, he furiously fought back and nearly wrenched my shoulder out of its socket. A 10-minute battle ensued with me finally choking off his wind until he collapsed. When he was on the ground, I stood on his neck and shouted at him” I AM THE ALPHA MALE!!”

That experience did two very important things. First, it made Taj more obedient and trainable. It also greatly boosted my self-confidence. (That shoulder, though still gives me trouble.)

I had ridden horses with at Mike at Woodlawn, his beautiful place north of St. Francisville, and had noted how much we had to fight the horses to get them to just stop and stand still. Consequently, one of the main things I focused on was teaching Taj to Whoa and not move until told him to. Considering how spirited and explosive he was, that was no small trick. But he had learned that I was his master and he had to obey me.

The test came in the fall of 2011 when Taj was about 2 and half. Mike invited me to come riding at Woodlawn where Coco and Helga joined us. Helga was on Dolly, Taj’s full sister. We were riding through a trail in the woods and came to an opening where Mike decided to stop and enjoy the nearby creek.  Dolly started prancing around in circles while Helga fought the horse to try to get her to be still. Helga had turned around and was facing Taj and me as we were coming up the trail. At that point, I said “Taj Whoa!” He stopped in his tracks. I dropped both reins to the ground and put my hands on the pummel. I looked right at Helga and said, “Helga, why don’t you just tell Dolly to Whoa?” Helga went red in the face, and I could not suppress an ear-to-ear grin.

Strange as it may seem, that small event was one of the most affirming and inspiring experiences of my life. In several ways I had fallen short of my goals and had lost some faith in myself. This episode restored my confidence in a way that I can’t explain. I had set my mind to something and stayed unswervingly focused on it. Despite the doubts, I had mastered an incredibly spirited and powerful animal. This enabled me to take on new challenges with confidence and without fear.

“I propose a toast to Sir Milford, Dellamata’s Knight Of the Inspiring Horse.”

All repeat: “To Sir Milford, Dellamata’s Knight Of the Inspiring Horse!”