Known as “JR” around the farm, Smokin’ Colt 45 is the result of a very special breeding attempt to honor my “horse husband by default,” Jeff, with a horse of his very own.  We searched for a stallion to breed to my Anglo-Arabian mare, Simplyirisistible+ (Abby), for some time before settling on a buckskin and white tovero paint stallion with AWS approval. 

Jeff wanted a stocky horse that he could hopefully hunt from, and in spite of the stallion’s 16+ hand, bulky frame, we thought that we would get a suitably “shorter” horse by breeding him to Abby, who stands 15.1.  Jeff was also smitten by the “color” and the arrangements were made.   

On April 5, 2000, a very large, very black, very cute, and very whimsical colt arrived just as I was preparing to head off to work.  The dream of a spotted hunting pony vanquished, Jeff set about imprinting his new friend and dubbed him “Smokin’ Colt 45, recognizing both the date and one of his favorite firearms. 

As the years have passed and the friendship has grown, we have had many special moments with this now grey 16-hand gelding.  JR follows Jeff step for step through the pasture while Jeff is changing irrigation pipes.  On one occasion, as Jeff was walking in from the field late at night, deep in thought after setting pipe, he was startled from his thoughts by the cold, wet, rough tongue of JR, as he licked him right up the back of his neck.  Jeff admits that it made him “scream like a girl,” as he knew that JR was following him, but he never expected him to do that!

JR is always very helpful. One of his favorite things is helping Jeff with all of his farm duties.  While cutting back and burning blackberries, Jeff set his still burning propane torch down briefly to cut some more bramble and stack it into another pile for burning.

  Upon turning back for his torch, Jeff was totally surprised to see his big grey gelding, torch wand between his teeth, waving the burning torch about like a baton twirler.  How, you might ask, does one remove a lit torch from a horse that is waving it around?  Jeff went around behind JR and turned the propane bottle off, and once the flame went out, the game was no longer interesting.  It was at this point that he began walking through the remaining smoking piles looking for something else to amuse himself.  JR was sequestered to his stall shortly thereafter.

To say that this horse has personality would be an understatement.  He has been known to open the toolbox on the tractor if it is abandoned in the field for even the briefest of moments, steal all of the tools and dump them in a wide distribution around said tractor, and then step back with a concentrated look of innocence. One should not remove jackets or sweatshirts in the pasture while JR is about.  This is grounds for a merry chase to retrieve your stolen apparel.  No gate latch is truly secure if JR takes a notion to open it.  The only thing we have found that truly delays him is a climbing style of clip that actually screws closed.  

JR has injured himself and some of his stablemates on numerous occasions by way of his own curiosity, leading to allowing him to play with only a select group of horses for the safety of all.  Our vet has even changed the name on all of records to “Dennis the Menace.”

Once, he managed to injure his left hind leg pretty significantly by somehow getting it under the stud divider of our horse trailer.  The stud divider, mind you, is only about 4-inches from the trailer floor.  The injury required wrapping with a bulky dressing and placement of a standing wrap over the top.  The cleaning and wrapping went on for days without a hitch.  Then one day, I put a bright orange wrap on top of the dressing and went off to work.  When I returned home that afternoon I was amazed to see that JR’s artistic side had evolved.  There on the rails of his pipe corral were tiny shreds of orange wrap, neatly hanging on the various levels in a random fashion.  The cotton wrap, for the most part, was still attached to his hind leg.  No sizeable pieces of the orange leg wrap were identifiable, only tiny slivers encircling his pipe corral like orange icicles. 

We have discovered over the years that JR is a much better citizen when he has a job to do.  He has become a trusted trail horse for Jeff, although his height makes it somewhat difficult for Jeff to get on an off out on the trail.  He likes working cattle, and if given a chance, dogs or cats crossing his paddock work pretty nicely too.  He pretends to be a dressage horse for me, even humbly availing himself to me for a pas de deux with granddaughter, Morgan and her grey gelding, Zhane (we won first place with a 68% at Training Level).  But his forte, the thing he loves the most, is driving. 

It has gotten to the point that we cannot back his gig out of the carport to get the riding mower out, without him standing at his gate calling to us.  That two wheel cart and his harness make him the happiest horse on earth.  He willingly stands for us to fumble and adjust and tweek and cloak him in his harness, and once hitched, he arches his neck and struts his stuff. 

On one occasion, Jeff had parked several farm implements in our arena and after surveying the scenery, I thought that I could safely drive in and around them to get some practice with JR.  We did okay, but I wasn’t satisfied with the limited area to work in, so I drove him up to his corral, put a halter over his bridle and told him to stay there, stay hitched, and behave himself while I went to get the mares out of the pasture and clear us some real territory (I admit that this was probably not the smartest thing I have ever done, but you’ve got to understand that this horse LOVES this cart). 

The pasture gate was opened, and the usually obedient and organized return to the stalls from the pasture was anything but.  The mares had to check out the situation with JR, so they ran past him, snorting, whirling, and eventually returning to their stalls when the feed started hitting the pans.  JR stood there, rock solid, the entire time waiting for me to return to him.  Sounds amazing, but it is true.  Once the halter was removed and he was backed up several steps, I went around to the back of the cart, stepped into the seat, and we spent about an hour just driving through the pasture and playing “obstacle driving” through the oak trees.

JR has become a wonderful family member, despite his lack of spots, despite his height, and despite the fact that he is only ¼ Arabian and doesn’t really fit into our “program.”  We just couldn’t leave him off of our website.