Recent posts
#32
Jewel / Re: Journal Entries
Last post by Jewel - Jul 31, 2025, 03:32 PMJournal Entry
Evening After the Campdraft
Date: Summer
Jewel Cartwright
We took the afternoon off today to do something we haven't done in far too long—be spectators at a campdraft.
No horses of ours entered. No rush to saddle up. Just us on the other side of the rails for once, soaking up the dust, the banter, and the smell of sausage sizzles wafting past the yards.
Alex had never seen a campdraft before, which nearly sent Emma into orbit. She gave him a full run-down before we even got there—explaining the scoring, how the camp works, what the judges look for. He mostly let her talk, didn't interrupt, just nodded now and again like he was filing it away. A few weeks post-accident now, and the crankiness is starting to show. Not in a mean way, just that restless frustration of someone too used to doing things to be content with sitting still.
He's better on the crutches though, and Emma offered to drive him back early if it got too much. But he stuck it out longer than I expected. Even found himself a good spot ringside with Old Ted and Rex and made himself look very official with a coffee in one hand and a serious expression like he was the head judge. I think he needed this—needed to feel part of something again.
Emma, for her part, stayed close by. She never hovered exactly, but she kept checking in with those little glances, like she was making sure he wasn't pushing through pain just to prove something. She's good like that—never oversteps, but always sees more than people think she does.
The two of them... I don't know. It's not my business, and I'm not in the habit of speculating. But they've got a rhythm. Something easy that most people don't find unless they've worked a hundred long days together. And maybe a few long nights, too. If nothing else, she's the one who makes him laugh without trying, and he's the one who listens when no one else does.
Anyway.
The rest of us—Grace, Sarah, Jake, Jack, Lena, Maggie, Alice, Tom, Dan—scattered across the grounds. Maggie came back from the stalls with a new belt that looks like it could double as a dinner plate. Alice found herself caught in a five-minute sales pitch for a herbal liniment she absolutely does not believe in but still bought out of guilt. Dan hovered near the food trucks, managed to charm an extra snag out of the guy running the BBQ. Of course, he tried to hand it to me with a wink and some throwaway line about "rewarding beautiful bosses," but I just rolled my eyes and took the sausage. That's the thing with Dan—he flirts like some people breathe. Automatic. Harmless. And both of us know it doesn't mean a thing.
It was a good day. Dusty, loud, and chaotic in that very specific country way. But it made me remember why I love this life. Horses, cattle, mates, laughter, and the kind of tired that settles in your bones in the best possible way.
Alex dozed off in the back seat on the way home. Emma didn't say anything, just turned the volume down and kept driving, one hand on the wheel, one eye on him through the rear-view. That image stuck with me—quiet care. The kind that speaks louder than words ever could.
Back at the station now. The sky's gone that deep purple it only gets after a warm day and a cooler evening. Boots are off. Dogs are fed. Everyone's scattered to their corners.
But tonight... tonight feels a little lighter.
Happy Trails!
Date: Summer
Jewel Cartwright
We took the afternoon off today to do something we haven't done in far too long—be spectators at a campdraft.
No horses of ours entered. No rush to saddle up. Just us on the other side of the rails for once, soaking up the dust, the banter, and the smell of sausage sizzles wafting past the yards.
Alex had never seen a campdraft before, which nearly sent Emma into orbit. She gave him a full run-down before we even got there—explaining the scoring, how the camp works, what the judges look for. He mostly let her talk, didn't interrupt, just nodded now and again like he was filing it away. A few weeks post-accident now, and the crankiness is starting to show. Not in a mean way, just that restless frustration of someone too used to doing things to be content with sitting still.
He's better on the crutches though, and Emma offered to drive him back early if it got too much. But he stuck it out longer than I expected. Even found himself a good spot ringside with Old Ted and Rex and made himself look very official with a coffee in one hand and a serious expression like he was the head judge. I think he needed this—needed to feel part of something again.
Emma, for her part, stayed close by. She never hovered exactly, but she kept checking in with those little glances, like she was making sure he wasn't pushing through pain just to prove something. She's good like that—never oversteps, but always sees more than people think she does.
The two of them... I don't know. It's not my business, and I'm not in the habit of speculating. But they've got a rhythm. Something easy that most people don't find unless they've worked a hundred long days together. And maybe a few long nights, too. If nothing else, she's the one who makes him laugh without trying, and he's the one who listens when no one else does.
Anyway.
The rest of us—Grace, Sarah, Jake, Jack, Lena, Maggie, Alice, Tom, Dan—scattered across the grounds. Maggie came back from the stalls with a new belt that looks like it could double as a dinner plate. Alice found herself caught in a five-minute sales pitch for a herbal liniment she absolutely does not believe in but still bought out of guilt. Dan hovered near the food trucks, managed to charm an extra snag out of the guy running the BBQ. Of course, he tried to hand it to me with a wink and some throwaway line about "rewarding beautiful bosses," but I just rolled my eyes and took the sausage. That's the thing with Dan—he flirts like some people breathe. Automatic. Harmless. And both of us know it doesn't mean a thing.
It was a good day. Dusty, loud, and chaotic in that very specific country way. But it made me remember why I love this life. Horses, cattle, mates, laughter, and the kind of tired that settles in your bones in the best possible way.
Alex dozed off in the back seat on the way home. Emma didn't say anything, just turned the volume down and kept driving, one hand on the wheel, one eye on him through the rear-view. That image stuck with me—quiet care. The kind that speaks louder than words ever could.
Back at the station now. The sky's gone that deep purple it only gets after a warm day and a cooler evening. Boots are off. Dogs are fed. Everyone's scattered to their corners.
But tonight... tonight feels a little lighter.
Happy Trails!
#33
Jewel / Re: Journal Entries
Last post by Jewel - Jul 31, 2025, 08:44 AMJournal Entry
Under the pepper tree
Date: Summer
Jewel Cartwright
It's warm today. That soft kind of heat that settles in your bones without demanding anything. I found myself under the old pepper tree by the east paddock—same one that's been there longer than I've been alive. The horses were dozing in the sun. Birds chirping lazy. Not a soul around.
Funny how silence can make space for ghosts.
I don't think about him often anymore. Not really. Life has a way of keeping your hands busy and your heart guarded. But something about the smell of the dry grass, the breeze rustling through those long branches... it took me back.
He had eyes like storm clouds—trouble and promise all rolled up in one. God, I was young. Twenty-three and so sure I knew what I was doing. We'd planned a life once. Talked about property up north, horses of our own, kids maybe. He even bought a ring. I wore it for a while. Got used to the weight of it.
But time does what time always does. He wanted something I couldn't give up: the rodeo circuit, the travel, the chaos. I wanted roots. A place. He didn't understand why this land meant more to me than any ribbon or title ever could.
So he left.
No big blow-up. No betrayal. Just two people walking different paths who didn't realize it until they were halfway down them.
Sometimes I wonder if he ever settled down. If he found what he was looking for. Maybe he still rides. Maybe he thinks of me when the wind shifts and smells like eucalyptus and dust.
I never did marry. Came close once or twice, but nothing stuck. Maybe I didn't want it to. Maybe he was the measure and no one else quite fit the shape he left behind.
But I'm not lonely. Not really. This place, these people—this life—I built it on my own two feet. There's strength in that. Pride. And peace, too, on days like this.
Still... sometimes, under the right tree, in the right light, memory wraps itself around your shoulders like an old jacket. Worn. Comfortable. A little frayed at the edges.
And I let it sit with me for a while.
Happy Trails!
Date: Summer
Jewel Cartwright
It's warm today. That soft kind of heat that settles in your bones without demanding anything. I found myself under the old pepper tree by the east paddock—same one that's been there longer than I've been alive. The horses were dozing in the sun. Birds chirping lazy. Not a soul around.
Funny how silence can make space for ghosts.
I don't think about him often anymore. Not really. Life has a way of keeping your hands busy and your heart guarded. But something about the smell of the dry grass, the breeze rustling through those long branches... it took me back.
He had eyes like storm clouds—trouble and promise all rolled up in one. God, I was young. Twenty-three and so sure I knew what I was doing. We'd planned a life once. Talked about property up north, horses of our own, kids maybe. He even bought a ring. I wore it for a while. Got used to the weight of it.
But time does what time always does. He wanted something I couldn't give up: the rodeo circuit, the travel, the chaos. I wanted roots. A place. He didn't understand why this land meant more to me than any ribbon or title ever could.
So he left.
No big blow-up. No betrayal. Just two people walking different paths who didn't realize it until they were halfway down them.
Sometimes I wonder if he ever settled down. If he found what he was looking for. Maybe he still rides. Maybe he thinks of me when the wind shifts and smells like eucalyptus and dust.
I never did marry. Came close once or twice, but nothing stuck. Maybe I didn't want it to. Maybe he was the measure and no one else quite fit the shape he left behind.
But I'm not lonely. Not really. This place, these people—this life—I built it on my own two feet. There's strength in that. Pride. And peace, too, on days like this.
Still... sometimes, under the right tree, in the right light, memory wraps itself around your shoulders like an old jacket. Worn. Comfortable. A little frayed at the edges.
And I let it sit with me for a while.
Happy Trails!
#35
Surrenders / Surrender Procedure
Last post by Merry - Jul 19, 2025, 05:02 PMHorses may be surrendered to The Orchard for $2,000 each. Each member may surrender a maximum of four horses per month! Please start your own thread with this information.
Code Select
Horse Name and EQUID(s):
(one per line, please)
Your Name:
Check #
#36
Jewel / Re: my testing station
Last post by Jewel - Apr 28, 2025, 09:47 PMsome other simple styles
{Horse Name}
{Breed} | {Color} | {Height}
Stud Fee: {Fee}
Achievements: {Major awards or titles here}
Temperament: {Brief personality notes}
Breeding Info:
[fa]fa-certificate[/fa] Live Cover | [fa]fa-flask[/fa] AI Available
[fa]fa-shield[/fa] LFG Offered: {Yes/No}
Contact me via PM to book!
{Horse Name}
{Breed} • {Color} • {Height}
Message {Your Username} for more info!
{Horse Name}
[fa]fa-star[/fa] {Breed} — {Color} — {Height} [fa]fa-star[/fa]
Sired by champions, bred for excellence.
{Horse Name}
{Breed} | {Color} | {Height}
Stud Fee: {Fee}
Achievements: {Major awards or titles here}
Temperament: {Brief personality notes}
Breeding Info:
[fa]fa-certificate[/fa] Live Cover | [fa]fa-flask[/fa] AI Available
[fa]fa-shield[/fa] LFG Offered: {Yes/No}
Contact me via PM to book!
{Horse Name}
{Breed} • {Color} • {Height}
[fa]fa-hat-cowboy[/fa] Stud Fee: {Fee}
[fa]fa-award[/fa] Titles: {Brief title highlights}
[fa]fa-horse[/fa] Temperament: {Keywords — "steady", "athletic", etc.}
[fa]fa-award[/fa] Titles: {Brief title highlights}
[fa]fa-horse[/fa] Temperament: {Keywords — "steady", "athletic", etc.}
Breeding Notes:
- Live Cover: Yes / No
- AI: Yes / No
- LFG: Yes / No
- Contracts Required: Yes / No
Message {Your Username} for more info!
{Horse Name}
[fa]fa-star[/fa] {Breed} — {Color} — {Height} [fa]fa-star[/fa]
Stud Fee: {Fee}
Availability: Public / Private / Limited
Titles: {Major Awards}
Availability: Public / Private / Limited
Titles: {Major Awards}
About:
{Brief blurb about discipline specialties, bloodlines, traits}
{Brief blurb about discipline specialties, bloodlines, traits}
Sired by champions, bred for excellence.
#37
Jewel / Re: my testing station
Last post by Jewel - Apr 28, 2025, 09:36 PMSouthern Lights Station
New South Wales, Australia
New South Wales, Australia
Crave the Chaos
Cookie Monster x Obsidian Fury | Mustang | 2022
Color: Blue Roan
Height: 14.3hh
Stud Fee: $500
Panel Results: 5-Panel N/N
Notes: Bold-minded, Cowy, Versatility Ranch Prospect
Cookie Monster x Obsidian Fury | Mustang | 2022
Color: Blue Roan
Height: 14.3hh
Stud Fee: $500
Panel Results: 5-Panel N/N
Notes: Bold-minded, Cowy, Versatility Ranch Prospect
business card style Stud ad made with canva
And some bbcode templates that sort of match but not really.
#38
Jewel / Re: Journal Entries
Last post by Jewel - Apr 23, 2025, 12:52 PMJournal Entry
Racehorse Struggles
Date: Autumn
Jewel Cartwright
Country Roads. That damn filly's got me wrapped around her hoof. I can't stop thinking about her lately. Maybe it's because we're halfway through the season and she still hasn't broken her maiden, or maybe it's because every time I look at her, I see the fire I thought would carry her straight to the winner's circle. But here we are—still waiting. Still hoping. And I'm still trying to figure out what the hell we're missing.
She's a 2-year-old bay dun, a real looker with just enough sabino to catch your eye without screaming for attention. Minimal white, just a snip and a sock, like she was dipped in class. Pedigree on point—an appendix Quarter Horse, bred to run, bred to work. We picked her up thinking she'd be a good project, but she turned out to be more than that. She's got heart. And in this game, heart can be the difference between a workhorse and a winner. But right now, she's stuck in between.
At home, she's a dream. I mean it. She's the first one to the gate every morning, ears up, eyes sharp, ready to go. You don't have to drag her out of her stall or coax her to work—she wants it. Craves it. You can feel it in her stride, how she stretches out like she's chasing something only she can see. On the gallops, she floats. Strong, forward, responsive. I watch her move and think, "She's got it. She's got what it takes."
But then race day comes, and it's like someone swaps her out for a different horse.
She loads fine. Doesn't fuss in the gate. Breaks clean most of the time. But it's like she gets halfway through the race and just... fades. Not from lack of fitness—she's as fit as any horse in the barn. Not from fear—I've seen scared horses run better than this. It's something else. Something in her head, maybe. She doesn't quit, not exactly. But she doesn't fight either. She just levels out. A couple of thirds, a few close seconds. She's not running bad, just not good enough.
And that's what's driving me nuts.
We've checked everything. Feed, bloodwork, saddle fit, tack, rider matchups. Different tracks. We've tweaked her training, adjusted her gallop days, switched up breezes. I've even had her scoped just to be sure we weren't missing something physical. Nothing. Clean bill of health. She should be winning—or at least hitting harder than she is.
It's humbling. That's what this sport does. You think you've got it figured out—good breeding, solid foundation, consistent training. And still, no guarantees. Owning racehorses is such a risk. They'll break your heart while you're still reaching for the checkbook. Everyone sees the glitz, the trophies, the glory. But behind it? It's this. It's the long mornings and the quiet drives home after another disappointing finish. It's looking a horse in the eye and seeing all the potential in the world—and no idea how to unlock it.
Still, I can't give up on her.
There's something about Country Roads that keeps me hanging on. Maybe it's her work ethic, or the way she perks up when she sees me walk into the barn. She's smart, too. One of the sharpest fillies I've had in a while. She listens. She tries. It's not like she's phoning it in—she just hasn't found her fire out there in the gate yet. At home, she's all spark. On race day, it's like she's still trying to figure out what the race means.
Some horses take longer to get it. I know that. I've had late bloomers before. One of our best geldings didn't break his maiden until he was nearly four, and then he went on a tear and picked up stakes wins. But that wait—it eats at you. Because you're always wondering: is this the one that finally clicks? Or are we just chasing shadows?
And the truth is, I don't know. I don't know if Country Roads will ever win. I don't know if she'll find her stride at three, or if this is just her ceiling. But I owe it to her to keep trying. I believe in giving horses time—especially the ones who give you everything in the mornings.
Sometimes I watch her in the paddock before a race. She's calm. Ears flicking. Focused. Not nervous, not distracted. She's not overwhelmed by the atmosphere. Some young horses go off their heads, but not her. She handles pressure like a pro. Maybe too calmly, if I'm honest. Maybe she needs something to light her up out there. A little rivalry. A little push.
We've talked about giving her a break. Turning her out, letting her reset. Letting her grow up a little. I'm torn. She's sound. She's willing. But maybe a few weeks of grass and sunshine would change the story. Let her miss the track a little. Let her remember why she wants it.
Whatever we do next, it's got to be for her. Not for my ego. Not for the bills. For her. Because this filly shows up every day and puts in the work. She deserves the same from me.
So tonight, as I sit here with her feed chart in front of me and race replays pulled up on my phone, I'm trying to remind myself: patience is part of the process. Some horses are rockets right out of the gate. Others need time to smolder before they burn.
Maybe Country Roads is one of those. A slow burn.
She's not just a number on a race card to me. She's not just another horse in the barn. She's my filly. And no matter how many times she finishes just out of the money, I'm going to keep rooting for her. Keep figuring her out. Keep walking that country road with her, step by step, until she finds her way.
And when she does? It's going to mean everything.
Happy Trails!
Date: Autumn
Jewel Cartwright
Country Roads. That damn filly's got me wrapped around her hoof. I can't stop thinking about her lately. Maybe it's because we're halfway through the season and she still hasn't broken her maiden, or maybe it's because every time I look at her, I see the fire I thought would carry her straight to the winner's circle. But here we are—still waiting. Still hoping. And I'm still trying to figure out what the hell we're missing.
She's a 2-year-old bay dun, a real looker with just enough sabino to catch your eye without screaming for attention. Minimal white, just a snip and a sock, like she was dipped in class. Pedigree on point—an appendix Quarter Horse, bred to run, bred to work. We picked her up thinking she'd be a good project, but she turned out to be more than that. She's got heart. And in this game, heart can be the difference between a workhorse and a winner. But right now, she's stuck in between.
At home, she's a dream. I mean it. She's the first one to the gate every morning, ears up, eyes sharp, ready to go. You don't have to drag her out of her stall or coax her to work—she wants it. Craves it. You can feel it in her stride, how she stretches out like she's chasing something only she can see. On the gallops, she floats. Strong, forward, responsive. I watch her move and think, "She's got it. She's got what it takes."
But then race day comes, and it's like someone swaps her out for a different horse.
She loads fine. Doesn't fuss in the gate. Breaks clean most of the time. But it's like she gets halfway through the race and just... fades. Not from lack of fitness—she's as fit as any horse in the barn. Not from fear—I've seen scared horses run better than this. It's something else. Something in her head, maybe. She doesn't quit, not exactly. But she doesn't fight either. She just levels out. A couple of thirds, a few close seconds. She's not running bad, just not good enough.
And that's what's driving me nuts.
We've checked everything. Feed, bloodwork, saddle fit, tack, rider matchups. Different tracks. We've tweaked her training, adjusted her gallop days, switched up breezes. I've even had her scoped just to be sure we weren't missing something physical. Nothing. Clean bill of health. She should be winning—or at least hitting harder than she is.
It's humbling. That's what this sport does. You think you've got it figured out—good breeding, solid foundation, consistent training. And still, no guarantees. Owning racehorses is such a risk. They'll break your heart while you're still reaching for the checkbook. Everyone sees the glitz, the trophies, the glory. But behind it? It's this. It's the long mornings and the quiet drives home after another disappointing finish. It's looking a horse in the eye and seeing all the potential in the world—and no idea how to unlock it.
Still, I can't give up on her.
There's something about Country Roads that keeps me hanging on. Maybe it's her work ethic, or the way she perks up when she sees me walk into the barn. She's smart, too. One of the sharpest fillies I've had in a while. She listens. She tries. It's not like she's phoning it in—she just hasn't found her fire out there in the gate yet. At home, she's all spark. On race day, it's like she's still trying to figure out what the race means.
Some horses take longer to get it. I know that. I've had late bloomers before. One of our best geldings didn't break his maiden until he was nearly four, and then he went on a tear and picked up stakes wins. But that wait—it eats at you. Because you're always wondering: is this the one that finally clicks? Or are we just chasing shadows?
And the truth is, I don't know. I don't know if Country Roads will ever win. I don't know if she'll find her stride at three, or if this is just her ceiling. But I owe it to her to keep trying. I believe in giving horses time—especially the ones who give you everything in the mornings.
Sometimes I watch her in the paddock before a race. She's calm. Ears flicking. Focused. Not nervous, not distracted. She's not overwhelmed by the atmosphere. Some young horses go off their heads, but not her. She handles pressure like a pro. Maybe too calmly, if I'm honest. Maybe she needs something to light her up out there. A little rivalry. A little push.
We've talked about giving her a break. Turning her out, letting her reset. Letting her grow up a little. I'm torn. She's sound. She's willing. But maybe a few weeks of grass and sunshine would change the story. Let her miss the track a little. Let her remember why she wants it.
Whatever we do next, it's got to be for her. Not for my ego. Not for the bills. For her. Because this filly shows up every day and puts in the work. She deserves the same from me.
So tonight, as I sit here with her feed chart in front of me and race replays pulled up on my phone, I'm trying to remind myself: patience is part of the process. Some horses are rockets right out of the gate. Others need time to smolder before they burn.
Maybe Country Roads is one of those. A slow burn.
She's not just a number on a race card to me. She's not just another horse in the barn. She's my filly. And no matter how many times she finishes just out of the money, I'm going to keep rooting for her. Keep figuring her out. Keep walking that country road with her, step by step, until she finds her way.
And when she does? It's going to mean everything.
Happy Trails!
#39
Jewel / Re: SLS Horse List (WIP)
Last post by Jewel - Apr 06, 2025, 02:00 AMSouthern Lights Station
Appendix Quarter Horses: Stallions
Appendix Quarter Horses: Stallions
142315C Silver Drift SY15 (9 y/o) Grey Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 16.1h
Base Color: Bay
Genetics: EE/AA/Gg
Competing in Green Hunter 3ft9 Hunters and In-Hand.
Progeny
RCh.Tropical Drift SLS Appendix Quarter Horse SY19 (5y/o) Stallion Grey Hunters
BIO: Coming Soon.
Standing at 16.1h
Base Color: Bay
Genetics: EE/AA/Gg
Competing in Green Hunter 3ft9 Hunters and In-Hand.
Progeny
RCh.Tropical Drift SLS Appendix Quarter Horse SY19 (5y/o) Stallion Grey Hunters
BIO: Coming Soon.
204222C Under The Radar SY22 (2 y/o) Cremello Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 16.0h
Genetics: ee/aa/CrCr
Competing in Allowance Juvenile on Dirt Stock Horse Racing.
Progeny
None Yet
BIO: Coming Soon.
Standing at 16.0h
Genetics: ee/aa/CrCr
Competing in Allowance Juvenile on Dirt Stock Horse Racing.
Progeny
None Yet
BIO: Coming Soon.
204422C Ready To Move SY22 (2 y/o) Bay Dun Rabicano Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 15.0h
Genetics: Ee/Aa/Dd/nrab
Competing in Prospect Working Western and In-Hand.
Progeny
None Yet
BIO: Coming Soon.
Standing at 15.0h
Genetics: Ee/Aa/Dd/nrab
Competing in Prospect Working Western and In-Hand.
Progeny
None Yet
BIO: Coming Soon.
204517C Four The Record SY17 (7 y/o) Blue Roan Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 15.3h
Genetics: Ee/aa/RR
Competing in Junior Western Riding Western Riding and In-Hand.
Progeny
None Yet
BIO: Coming Soon.
Standing at 15.3h
Genetics: Ee/aa/RR
Competing in Junior Western Riding Western Riding and In-Hand.
Progeny
None Yet
BIO: Coming Soon.
Tropical Drift SLS
EQUID: 206619B
SY19 (5 y/o) Grey Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 16.3h
Silver Drift x Whitsunday
Base Color: Bay Dun
Genetics: EE/Aa/Dd/Gg
Competing in Green Hunter 3ft0 Hunters and In-Hand.
BIO: Coming Soon.
EQUID: 206619B
SY19 (5 y/o) Grey Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 16.3h
Silver Drift x Whitsunday
Base Color: Bay Dun
Genetics: EE/Aa/Dd/Gg
Competing in Green Hunter 3ft0 Hunters and In-Hand.
BIO: Coming Soon.
Lighthouse Glow
EQUID: 243620C
SY20 (4 y/o) Gold Champagne Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 15.0h
Genetics: ee/AA/nCh
Competing in Grade 2 on Dirt Stock Horse Racing.
BIO: Coming Soon.
EQUID: 243620C
SY20 (4 y/o) Gold Champagne Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 15.0h
Genetics: ee/AA/nCh
Competing in Grade 2 on Dirt Stock Horse Racing.
BIO: Coming Soon.
Trailblazing Cowboy
EQUID: 243910C
SY10 (14 y/o) Chestnut Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 15.1h
Genetics: ee/AA
Competing in Senior Western Riding Western Riding and In-Hand.
BIO: Coming Soon.
EQUID: 243910C
SY10 (14 y/o) Chestnut Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 15.1h
Genetics: ee/AA
Competing in Senior Western Riding Western Riding and In-Hand.
BIO: Coming Soon.
Written In The Bar
EQUID: 244112C
SY12 (12 y/o) Grulla Roan Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 14.3h
Genetics: Ee/aa/DD/RR
Competing in Senior Versatility Ranch Horse Working Western and In-Hand.
BIO: Coming Soon.
EQUID: 244112C
SY12 (12 y/o) Grulla Roan Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 14.3h
Genetics: Ee/aa/DD/RR
Competing in Senior Versatility Ranch Horse Working Western and In-Hand.
BIO: Coming Soon.
Unseen Choices
EQUID: 244321C
SY21 (3 y/o) Black Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 15.0h
Genetics: Ee/aa
Competing in Futurity Working Cow Horse Working Western and In-Hand.
BIO: Coming Soon.
EQUID: 244321C
SY21 (3 y/o) Black Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 15.0h
Genetics: Ee/aa
Competing in Futurity Working Cow Horse Working Western and In-Hand.
BIO: Coming Soon.
Zip the Sting
EQUID: 245013C
SY13 (11 y/o) Chestnut Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 15.1h
Genetics: ee/Aa/nZ
Competing in Senior Roping Working Western and In-Hand.
BIO: Coming Soon.
EQUID: 245013C
SY13 (11 y/o) Chestnut Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 15.1h
Genetics: ee/Aa/nZ
Competing in Senior Roping Working Western and In-Hand.
BIO: Coming Soon.
Hold My Drink
EQUID: 290911C
SY11 (13 y/o) Grulla Roan Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 16.1h
Genetics: EE/aa/Dd/Rr
Competing in Green Hunter 3ft9 Hunters and In-Hand.
BIO: Coming Soon.
EQUID: 290911C
SY11 (13 y/o) Grulla Roan Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 16.1h
Genetics: EE/aa/Dd/Rr
Competing in Green Hunter 3ft9 Hunters and In-Hand.
BIO: Coming Soon.
Flirtin With Fate
EQUID: 291016C
SY16 (8 y/o) Red Roan Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 16.1h
Genetics: ee/aa/RR
Competing in Green Hunter 3ft9 Hunters and In-Hand.
BIO: Coming Soon.
EQUID: 291016C
SY16 (8 y/o) Red Roan Appendix Quarter Horse Stallion
Standing at 16.1h
Genetics: ee/aa/RR
Competing in Green Hunter 3ft9 Hunters and In-Hand.
BIO: Coming Soon.
#40
Jewel / Re: my testing station
Last post by Jewel - Feb 04, 2025, 10:41 PMHeader Title Here
This is your content box. The image slightly overlaps the corner of this box, and it will remain positioned correctly on both **mobile and desktop screens**.
Header Title Here
This is your content box. The image slightly overlaps the corner of this box, and it will remain positioned correctly on both **mobile and desktop screens**.