Central Park Carriages

                                                              Romeo, Lisa, and Cornelius Byrne

On a recent trip to New York I had the great fortune to stumble upon the downtown Manhattan stables of Central Park Carriages. Earlier in my trip I had noticed the many carriage horses that carried tourists through the park and had wondered about their lives. I needn't have worried.

After a long day at Book Expo America my publisher and I were looking for a cab when we passed by the stable entrance. Inside, a man was shoeing a tall flea-bitten gray gelding. "Let's give him an ARC," my publisher said, referring to an advance reader copy of my horse mystery, The Opium Equation, which is due out in September. Why not, I thought? After all, how often do you run into a farrier in New York City?

Glad to get out of the afternoon sun we introduced ourselves to Cornelius Byrne and his twenty-six year old Standardbred gelding, Romeo. It turns out that Cornelius was the owner of the stable. He was very welcoming and insisted on giving us the full tour. I have to say, I was quite impressed.

On the street level were a number of well-maintained harnesses and carriages, and a few mint condition antique carriages. The horses live upstairs and to get there they climb a steep rubber ramp to the second floor. Once we had managed the climb in our "business shoes," I was pleased to find a dozen or so airy stalls. Each stall was clean, and deeply bedded with shavings. And, each horse had a big pile of clean, fresh hay.

The horses were a mix of draft, Warmbloods, and Standardbreds. Every horse I saw was curious about us and friendly and showed no sign of job burn-out. Cornelius encouraged me to go into the stalls to meet the horses and after a few "horseless" days, I was more than ready. I had expected to find some working soreness in the horses, but not one horse exhibited any such thing. They all were clean legged and friendly; immaculately clipped, shod, and groomed; and each horse was fit––even Romeo, who at twenty-six only works about one day a week.

Cornelius explained that he gets his Standardbreds off the track, horses that were not winning races and otherwise might not have anywhere to go other than the packing plant. Other horses were rescued from poor circumstances and now have a good life and a job. Is it sad that these horses rarely get to run in an open field? Yes. However, these engaging and intelligent horses might not have a life at all were if not for Cornelius, his brother Patrick, and Central Park Carriages.

Thank you Cornelius, for a wonderful tour, and for your commitment to the excellent well being of the horses in your care.

Snoqualmie

This month would have been Snoqualmie's 49th birthday. Snoqualmie was the horse I had as a child, and then was my son Colby's horse when he was small. The bond I had with her and then that Colby had with her was amazing. I never had a moment of worry or doubt about Colby's safety if he was  with Snoqualmie. He'd climb up her mane and ride her in through the pasture with no halter or bridle,  guiding her by pulling left or right on her mane.

Sometimes they'd amble along, a Civil War soldier and his horse coming home from battle, complete with cardboard guns and a military cap we found at a thrift store. Other times they'd gallop through the field, a pirate ship and her captain escaping the enemy (which was sometimes our dog, Dexter, or less often, our cat Bootsie).

Colby never fell off. Snoqualmie would never have allowed it. If he got off balance, she shifted underneath him and gently slowed. She was quiet and patient with Colby, but she knew he was important to me and took good care of him.

Snoqualmie passed away when Colby was six and she was 31. She'd had a stroke a few days before and finally got down and could not get back up. One thing she loved to do was eat, so as I held her head in my lap in a field of trees as I waited for the vet, Colby went to the barn for the grain. For once she could have all she wanted. She licked handful after handful from Colby's little hand and when it was time, I sent Colby to the house. She is buried there, underneath the trees. Even after we moved away from that house, Colby and I visited her at least once a year.

Today I like to think that she is galloping off to new adventures in the great beyond. I had her with me for twenty-three years. She was my best friend and I miss her more than words can say. Happy Birthday, my Fat Girl.

Honoring Loved Ones

Snoqualmie with my son, Colby, when he was about 18 months old.

Twice in my life I have worked closely with mother/son equine pairs. The first was Fred and Ethel, a quirky, ancient draft team when I was in my teens. Ethel, who was nearing thirty, had to be hitched on the left and Fred who was way past twenty, on the right. Woe be you if you got them mixed up, as I did several times. They would thrash around, breaking leather and wagon poles until they got themselves sorted out. Hopefully no humans got in the middle of that. Turns out that Ethel was Fred's mother. When Fred was a foal, the family that had them hitched Ethel to a one-horse buggy and they went down the road with Fred tied to Ethel's right, away from all the traffic. In all of Fred's life, he had never been separated from his mom.

The second pair was my mare Snoqualmie and her son, Ben. I have written a lot about them in several of my books. But what I have not shared was that when Ben was five, I leased him to a 4-H family. He was there for three or four years and then I leased him back. When I unloaded Ben off the trailer, Snoqualmie, who was about 800 feet away grazing in a pasture, threw up her head and came running, whinnying, to the gate. Snoqualmie knew immediately her son had come home.Then Ben started in. I turned them loose together and it was so sweet to see them catch up with each other.

My point in all of this is to be sure to honor and remember your own family members, as these horses did. These horses realized the value of loved ones and humans sometimes take each other for granted. So hug those you love. Tell them you love them. Do nice things for them. Appreciate them. Value them. I hope you can learn from these wise horses and honor those who honor you.