Lacy, my first branded Mustang, turned 11yo on March 17th. She was born at the Cañon City BLM holding facility to a Divide Basin WY mare.
We celebrated her birthday doing one of the things she enjoys most these days: Going FAST. Footage of that adventure to come.
I brought Lacy home as an unhandled 2yo. She was my first TIP horse, meaning the plan was to gentle and place her. Well, I did both but she didn’t go far 
Nobody else wanted to take a chance with her because she was tiny, gangly and admittedly a bit jug-headed. I thought I’d be less likely to die if I started with a small one. I was right but she sure had a big personality, even then.
I can’t tell you how many people have since tried to buy the once ugly duckling – who later turned out to be gaited and outgrew the ugly phase just fine – right out from under my saddle, or lack thereof.
At 8yo we almost lost her. That was 8 months of uncertainty I’ll never forget. A partial ligament tear, lameness in both fronts from compensating for the injury, then a corneal ulcer that took part of her vision in her right eye. Finally a mild colic, presumably because she was unhappy being locked up for so long.
It’s also made me that much more grateful that she’s still here. This horse finds new ways to challenge me every year. It’s good for me. It keeps me thinking, listening, problem solving and paying attention.
Lacy is the matriarch and lead mare of the Wild Horse Outreach & Advocacy Ambassador Mustang herd now and my go-to training assistant for green Mustangs learning to be ponied, to pack and be ridden. She keeps riders on green horses safe, as well as green riders on sometimes still rather green horses.
That responsibility and exposure to youthful chaos have made her a bit hypervigilant at times. She’s also grown into herself in the sense that she’s discovered a need for speed. She used to happily walk, shuffle, trot or lope everywhere but had to be pushed into a gallop.
Not anymore. I keep joking that she’s in her race horse era. She loves to channel her inner fire breathing dragon and just fly. She doesn’t take off, she asks permission, but you can tell when she needs to blow off steam. Blanca, the mare who brought her along, was like that. A good gallop or two and they’re content again. Until then they expend all sorts of unsolicited energy, usually in subtle, only just obvious enough ways, hoping to get that gallop. Mares man. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
The headstall from Southern Nutmeg Leather was her birthday present. A dragon wearing dragons. Her reins with cowboy quick connects are from Rowdy’s Ropes
