Loshenka 2908 Adoption

A warm breeze blows across open grassy fields, a blue bird sky above, and dusty ground beneath the tires of a silver horse trailer. It passes through a gate with the name, “Spring Creek Ranch” engraved in the timber frame, a sturdy wooden fence makes up the perimeter of this road, showing pastures of lush grass and a few fine longhorn cattle, a large farmhouse up on the hill, and a grand white barn. A river can be seen glinting in the morning sun, snaking its way through a forested field, and to the base of the hill where it gathers in a pond, before trickling down into a small stream.

The horse this trailer carries has been imported from across the ocean, for the purpose of working on this cattle ranch in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Waylon Wesson purchased this foreign horse after hearing of their resilience to the cold, smooth temperament, and steady gaits. He owns several horses already but was captivated by the Loshenka’s features and certain dependability. After searching for a place of contact, he found a barn selling a yearling from a mare named Romana, a Loshenka who excels in barrel racing and is known for a proud personality.

Waylon stands on the wraparound porch of his family home, breathing in the fresh mountain air and the smell of wildflowers, before walking down to the barn when he hears the tires approaching. His wife and two kids visiting his parents at their ranch further down the road. This horse is to be a gift for Waylon’s eldest son, Boone, who has been looking for a faithful new horse after outgrowing his childhood pony and riding the old paint horse on all the previous cattle drives.

The driver of the trailer pulls his truck around, so the trailer door opens into a round pen set for the arrival of the horse inside. After several minutes of getting everything situated Waylon opens the door and coaxes a sweet yearling into the light; he knew this colt was dark as in the pictures but hadn’t realized he would be smoky rather than pure black. Although dirty, the coat shone in the direct sunlight, and the silver tail glistened in a way even ten washes couldn’t do justice for the quarter horses grazing in the pastures. Few markings except for a snip on his velvety nose, three white socks and a heel marking, the colt was a steady smoky black, with dark legs, ears, and muzzle. Long eyelashes frame the kind almond-colored eyes, which would grow wide with any new noise. Already the colt’s mane was thinning, something Waylon lamented as it sure was pretty, but not having a mane would cut down on the care needed on the range to detangle and remove burrs.

“He’s a looker alright” the driver commented with a whistle, “What are your plans for this handsome fella?”

Waylon grinned and told him of his plans to gift the colt to his fifteen-year-old son, laughing when the driver’s jaw dropped at the idea of making a pretty pony into a cow horse. “Y’know, for a colt registered under the name ‘Bad Habits’, this colt doesn’t seem to have a single one,” Waylon remarked as he leaned on the fence, offering his hand to the colt who sniffed his hand gently. He waved as the truck drove down the drive, and after grabbing a fresh bale of hay, Waylon walked towards the house, feeling excitement swell in his chest for the future of this horse on his farm and wherever life takes his son.

The colt was curious and had bravery to follow through with his internal questions, nosing a passing chicken, and snorting in alarm when it squawked at him. He quickly grew comfortable in the pen and was soon looking into the pastures and mountains beyond, taking deep breaths of the crisp air and puffing out big clouds of warm breath. The horses in the fields wandered to the edge of their fence and nickered to him from a distance, he turned and began to whinny in return, eager to meet them, and the boy named Boone who would be the cowboy to his learning how to be a cow horse.

Four Years Later

“Come on Habit!!! Get on up there!” Boone called while trying to urge his horse up onto the plateau overlooking the field of wild cattle. Habit snorted in reply and gave a playful buck, only enough to jump Boone a couple inches off the saddle, before resolving to find a rocky path up to the top. The sun out here in the great fields was burning down on everything found on this ground, the smell of warm denim, hot leather, and sweat hung around Boone and Habit,  and on the cooling breeze, the cattle could be smelled and heard long before they were seen.  Although October was quickly approaching, the sun remained relentless even in the cold weather, leading to cold sweats in the morning and the evenings. During these cold nights and hot days, Boone was grateful for Habit's ability to regulate his own temperature as it meant no need to bring along the heavy flannel blankets some other horses required. The boys were out here to gather this year’s calves from their registered longhorn herd to bring home for Spring Creek’s annual Autumn sale. 

Out in the back lot field, which was truly just an open gate that led to shared land of at least 8,000 acres the Wessons and a few neighbors owned together, the cattle roamed in great herds from April to October. The families brought the cows closer to home for the harshest of the cold winter months and for multiple sales throughout the year. The cattle drives could take anywhere from two days to a full week depending on the temperment of the cows and the time it took to separate the branded cows to their respectful owner. The Wessons' brand was unmistakable from a distance,  resembling an upside down cowboy hat, a 'W' making the curve of the crown. On this trip, Waylon sent his son out to scout ahead to find the longhorn before the troops started out on the long and tiring task of wrangling the herd homeward down the hills, over rivers, and through valleys. Boone and Habit, being the youngest on the team, often were charged with the job of scouting, something the two enjoyed doing. Habit’s sure footedness and funny temper led to Boone’s immediate appreciation of the colt, and now five years later, Boone nineteen, and Habit six, the pair have years of experience together on the range getting to know one another and learning the land they love. Standing up on the plateau, Boone patted Habit’s strong neck and sighed, from under the brim of his cowboy hat, he could see a herd of longhorns in the distance and smiled happily knowing hard work on the back of his faithful horse would be sure to come again.