Godspeed, Dearest Paco...

We received word today that our dear little friend, Paco, has crossed the rainbow bridge. He's such a special boy, and I'm both happy and sad about the news.

Paco came to us in the fall of 1999 when Jeff was looking for a new roping horse. We had decided not to bring his now 26-yr old gelding down to our place for a variety of reasons, and a friend suggested Jeff try this little guy. We met the owner at a roping, watched him go, then gave him a try. Jeff threw a few loops off of him, hitting each time. He liked him, but valued my opinion. I hopped on his back and tried him out in the rodeo version of a warm-up ring. He was solid as a rock, comfortable, clearly very smart, and I knew I wanted him. We sealed the deal and arranged for me to pick him up a few days later.

On the way home we discussed how small he was, but how excited we were because we truly felt he'd be the perfect partner for Jeff. Besides, as a heel horse, small was okay. Jeff was preparing to go out of town for a month, and I was secretly thrilled because it meant that I could bond with the little chestnut grade Quarter Horse we had just purchased.

As we were still looking for a trailer to buy, I had to ask the friend who suggested the horse to help me pick him up. He gamely agreed and off we went to get this little treasure. I felt silly because I remembered his face, but the body looked completely different. The owner made it home just after we arrived and assured me it was the same horse, but I was a little surprised that he was actually a grade Appaloosa with a roan blanket. I didn't care, but hoped Jeff would still be pleased because Appies aren't his favorite. It ended up taking us 2 hours and a kick to my shin by another horse to catch this guy...I was less than amused. Turns out he wasn't so fond of humans, so he'd run when they first showed up. Once caught, he was fantastic in manners.....but aloof. Anyway, he loaded with no problem and we were on our way home.

It was only a matter of a few days before I gained the trust & heart of this horse. Turns out he loved candy. For whatever reason, I happened to have some on me one day, so I offered it to him. From that moment on, Paco regarded me as the lady with the sweet stuff he loved so much. He came running TO me whenever I appeared. Hey, whatever works! It was at this time I decided he needed a new name.

Now, I am one who fervently believes it is bad luck to rename a horse when you take ownership. In this case, however, I made an exception. You see, Paco came into his previous owner's hands via some very good luck. The guy went to the auction to buy a couple of resale projects and saw Paco as he was leaving the ring...too late. He saw something special in the horse, though, so he searched down the buyer. He bought Paco on the spot and had him unloaded from the truck, which required moving a couple of other horses around. Paco must have known his luck because he literally had his life saved that day. The truck he was removed from was the kill-buyer's rig. The kill-buyer made a profit, so he was happy, but the other animals suffered a fate that gives me nightmares. They were shipped to the Dallas-Crown slaughterhouse, an equine slaughterhouse that I am glad is no longer in operation. I visited that site and had a tour after Paco had joined our family, and I am thankful my sweet little gelding never set foot there. (just to clear the record, they were professional and good people, but the entry process, while the standard for all large livestock, was unacceptable for equines, in my opinion. But I'm grateful they were so open and kind to me, and I didn't criticize them.)

Anyway, Paco was immediately name "Taco" by his new owner. It was a bit of a joke. "Well, he almost became the main ingredient for a taco, so I decided that's what I'd call him." I thought he needed better, so I told Jeff I changed his name to "Paco." He laughed at me, but said it was fine.

Paco was barely a horse, standing at 14.3 hands high, (a pony tops out at 14.2 hands high), but he had a huge heart. Once he realized he had a good and loving home, he opened up. He loved to just be loved on. He relished having baths. He fell asleep when I pulled his mane. He pushed into the clippers when they appeared anywhere near him. He would kneel down to make mounting for a ride easier (for me...I think he knew Jeff was bigger and didn't care if he had to make more of an effort), something he just did one day. I took him for a bareback ride and thought he had either fallen or had something wrong when I went to climb on the gate to swing my leg over. Paco just pushed his right leg out, went down on his left knee and waited. I finally got what he was doing and laughed as I stepped over his back and he popped up. He subsequently did this every single time I went to ride him. Nobody taught him, he was just a smart gentleman.

He is the first, and only, horse who came into my house. I had him in my backyard to let him have his grazing time and not have to worry about being beaten up by my mare (she is the Alpha mare and was rather rough on him), he came to the window of the laundry room when he saw me, so I opened my back door to say hi to him. The phone rang and I thought nothing of leaving the door open as I dashed into my bedroom, which was connected to the laundry room, and grabbed it. I nearly died when I turned around and saw Paco in my room with me. I think the only reason he didn't fall through the floor was because he was small and weighed less than 1000lbs. I made sure to close the door after that, no matter what.

Jeff and Paco had this really cool bond, too, and they moved almost as one in the ring. More than once I saw Jeff drop the reins and just focus on getting a rope on the heels of a steer while Paco did exactly what he was there to do. The only time the reins were actually needed was when Jeff had dallied and needed that very quick stop for the timer. Others tried him, too, and thought he was great. There was one guy, though, that Paco made clear was hated. Paco immediately pinned his ears when this guy sat his butt in the saddle. He backed into the box and got that serious look, but never stopped his tail from wringing. When the steer broke, so did Paco. He bucked, and bucked, and easily could have been a bronc! Others laughed, I was internally gleeful (because this guy needed to be brought down a few notches), though surprised, and Jeff was horrifically shocked. This guy hit the dirt in a heap, throwing a HUGE cloud of dust in the air, and Paco immediately stopped. He stood looking at him with that "I dare you to get on me again" look, but went to the "Hi dad! Let's go play" look when Jeff went to check on the guy. He was fine, just a bruised ego. He never even tried to pet Paco ever again. Paco never bucked again. The former owner was there and stated he'd never known Paco even knew what a buck was, but thought it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen a roping horse do.

Paco suffered a blistered tendon at a roping one evening when the footing, or dirt, in the arena was not only wetter than it should have been, but ridiculously deep. I heard later he was not the only one lamed at the event. He spent about 2 weeks in a gel cast, and a month on stall rest with a small hand walk each evening before we could start light work again. Our vet "prescribed" a certain style of splint boot to be worn each ride for him, and he did fine. When we moved from Texas, Paco went to a close friend who also team ropes. He was instructed to use the boots, but didn't. We don't even know what happened to them. Not surprisingly, Paco became unsound and was no longer able to do his job, so they asked us to move him. We discussed the options, and Jeff decided to sell him. Very shortly after the decision was made, a friend of ours here in Colorado mentioned his sister was looking for a horse.

Serena and her husband have a church camp/ranch just outside of San Antonio, and they keep an eye out for safe trail horses. Paco fit the bill, and he'd still be doing an important job that he was good at. All he had to do was walk along the trail once a day during the summer and make a kiddo smile. Perfect! We knew that it was a great (and I mean great) home and that he'd be properly cared for, so we donated him. They loved him. Paco became a favorite, and the one they would put the most timid of riders on.

A couple of months ago we received word that he wasn't being used too often because he had become extremely arthritic. He was finding it harder and harder to get up, so he spent many hours grazing while laying sternal....in and out of the stall. They were watching him closely, but he was obviously happy. Last week that changed when he made it clear he was in too much pain and couldn't do it any longer. He was euthanized late in the week and the approximate age of 16.

So, you see, I am very sad because I loved him so much. He saw me through some incredibly tough times just as tenderly as (though differently than) my my mare. He took care of my husband through those times, as well. He gave me giggles that turned to tears of belly laughter. He gave me hugs each time I was near him (literal hugs, the neck curl kind). He greeted me with a nicker each morning, and a gallop to be first to the gate each night. I will miss him so very much.

I am also very happy because he had a wonderful life, one that he was nearly robbed of. He gave a number of children some great memories and lessons over the last 2 years. He was loved by many people, big and small. He returned that love in a most generous way. He was given the proper end, just as he deserved. He was happy. And he is now reunited with his best friend from many years ago: our dog, Jake. That alone makes me smile....