The Hutchings: 2011

What better "therapy" could I ask for, than a "rescue", who came in the form of a horse, named HARLEY. My bird skittles died in our house fire. I miss her dearly. WE, well, I have her out back peacefully sleeping under the Pear Tree. Her little grave is marked by some wind chimes (which she loved to scream at) and a stone memorial, I purchased from a pet boutique. You may think she was "just a bird", but she was my Little buddy, and I loved her dearly.

Harley came from a home in Taylorsville GA. The man who had him, paid no mind to his horses. Harley sat in a pasture with little grass. He was under weight and very stubborn. Harley is considered a rescue, simply for the fact that he was about to be sent to an auction in Tennessee. People go to these auctions and buy horses for slaughter. Harley's hooves were long and cracking. He had a space on his neck that was bare and misshapen from leaning through a fence trying to eat grass on the other side. He was under weight, and he was "barn-sour", meaning he has not been ridden in a long time and acted like he has NEVER been ridden. He needed a lot of work. I knew if somebody attempted to ride him through an auction, he'd never make it, especially the way he looked and acted. I begged to take him....and won. Harley is now a healthy weight and his mane is growing back slowly. He has had his feet trimmed 2 times now and they look beautiful. I'm working on his "manners" under the saddle... and trying to get him back in shape. It's therapy for the both of us. He let's me love on him and I let him plow me down for treats, drench me with water after he takes a drink and drools all over, and when he opens my tack box looking for more treats..... spilling it all over. He tolerates the 400 million photos I take of him. He tolerates my hugging his neck. I in turn tolerate him doing his little bucking dances when I try to ride him. It's give and take equally.... well.... most times. And now onto some pictures.....