I feel a little bit like some medieval European nation, primping for a prospective bride/queen! How silly is that? Too many medieval mysteries, evidently! Here's more on Josie, or as she shall be referred to, the Queen of Shadowlake.
Josie is just 14.1 1/2 hands tall, and I expect that's with shoes, so say probably 14.1 barefoot, which is certainly the way I plan to keep her, conditions and her feet allowing. She's stout, as you can see, and I'm short, so that should be fine. It's funny how as I age, my desire for a tall horse seems to decrease proportionately! She's 9 years old, which is just early prime, I believe for a mule. She's been extensively trail ridden, camped and packed with, picket lined, and trailered. She even neck reins, lopes, ponys, and is traffic safe.
Did I mention I'm buying her sight-unseen? 10 years ago, all my life in fact, you could not have convinced me that I would accept, never mind buy an equine sight unseen. However, I've come to realize it comes down to who you're dealing with and their sense of honor and fair play. I bought Willow from Saddlebred Rescue in New Jersey, and have never regretted it for a minute. No rescue goes farther, or is more thorough in matching horses to their people, and doing it all on the level, warts and all, and they accept their treasures back if it doesn't work out. Josie comes from the joint ownership of Painted Qh Farm and Double Creek Farm. Both have excellent reputations, and have patiently talked and emailed with me for much of this year, as I dithered and shopped. There were several mules I considered seriously, but Josie was the one that 'spoke' to me, loud and clearly. The farms allow time for me to vet her, if I wish, after she arrives. That, with the enthusiastic references, and repeat buyers gives me great confidence.
My first hand mule experience is pretty much limited to sitting on one from the rim of the Grand Canyon, down to Phantom Ranch at the bottom, and back to the top the following day. I' ve read every book I could find on mule lore. When I was a child my uncle had a huge old white Percheron mule named Bertie May that he logged with. I was totally in awe of that mule whose head was bigger than my body, and one of my earliest horsey memories is being carried around by Bert, legs only stretching halfway down her sides, gripping with even my toes for all I was worth! My mother's mother was born in about 1890 and raised on an isolated farm, as an only child. When I was small and a rapt audience for all things animal, she told me stories of her pet baby mule, Goldie, whom her father brought home to her as a present. For a lonely, animal loving child, Goldie was a perfect companion. She and Grandma went everywhere on their large farm, almost seeming to speak the same language, and Goldie trusted little Flossie completely. Somehow, my grandmother even managed to get her up the steep, narrow stairs of their 1820-era home, and onto her big bed upstairs. I can imagine my proper great-grandmother's horror at finding a dusty little long eared baby sharing her daughter's bed, for all the world like a big dog. I never did find out how Flossie got Goldie DOWN those stairs! (I can picture great-grandma wishing she could pitch her out the window!) Now, I'd never, in my 'adult' life try something like that, but I have been known to bring Woody into my mother's house, which had no stairs. He followed me in trustingly, just like that wonderful Tonk followed his mistress onto David Letterman's alien stage. You could see how uncertain Tonk was about that whole deal, but he kept his eyes on his mom, and tried his best to do what she asked him to.
I already want to know what size bit Josie wears, (although at some point I'll probably try a side-pull), where's the best place to get a crupper, and what size blanket she would wear. Yes, I know a mule is hardy enough not to need a blanket here in NC, especially having the option of shelter, but don't you think she should have a pretty one anyway? I wouldn't want her to be jealous of Willow's!
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