P.J.'s Story : A tale of a girl and the rescue of the horse of her dreams

This story is reprinted with permission from the Peruvian Classified and cannot be reproduced without written consent from the editor &/or myself.

The eyes, I will never forget the way his eyes were staring at me from 500 yards away, as I spied on him through the lens of the camcorder. I remember thinking, “He can’t possibly see me from this distance; he doesn’t know me so why is he starring at me?” Less than twenty-four hours later, deep in my heart I would know the answer to my very own question.

The story begins on Friday, April 7th, 2000. Actually, the story begins far earlier than that, but this was the date that I received the first call in a series of events that would undoubtedly change my life. I had actually fallen in love with P.J. four years previously, from a video tape Jackie had showed me of him and his brother.

The message from Jackie was on my answering machine, stating that it was urgent that I call right away. Jackie and I talk frequently, and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what could be so urgent, so I returned her call. Jackie proceeded to tell me that the Humane Society had picked up 10 horses from a ranch east of Bend, and that there was an article about it in the local newspaper. The newspaper said that people who were interested in adopting any of the horses should go to the Humane Society animal shelter and fill out an adoption application. I knew that P.J. lived at that ranch, and couldn’t help but wonder if he was one of the horses that were picked up. “Poor P.J.” I thought. The newspaper article said all the horses were “in pretty bad shape” and I feared the worst for the magnificent buckskin stallion. I told Jackie that I would go to the shelter first thing the next morning to see what I could find out, hoping if they had P.J. that they might return him to his original owner instead of adopting him out to strangers.

I stayed up late that night to watch the local news, to see what additional information I could obtain regarding P.J. I hoped maybe they would show his picture, or maybe an address for the ranch. I had tried to find Edna’s ranch once before, since I knew the general vicinity it was located in. I drove from one end to the other of the road she lived on, hoping I could glimpse the buckskin stallion. “With his looks, he would be hard to miss” I thought. I never did find him; not knowing at the time he was hidden away in a small pen next to the house where he could not be seen from the road.

There were no pictures of P.J. on the news, but what I saw horrified me. There was footage of a pregnant old gray mare, age 17, who was 500 pounds underweight and still had her yearling foal at her side. I cried and cried for that mare, who collapsed and had to be euthanized that night. I stayed awake most of the night, eager to find P.J. and quite upset about the pregnant gray mare.

The following morning I set off to the Humane Society with a photo of P.J. in hand. Several years prior, I bred my mare to P.J.’s full brother, MJM Medallon de Oro. At this time, Jackie gave me a color photocopy of his sire, *Perulero, for my records. On the bottom half of the page was a photo of P.J. at age two. Armed with this photo, I arrived at the shelter 45 minutes before they opened, hoping to beat the rush of people who might be out to get a free horse. Imagine my surprise when there were no horses there! Evidently they were not as stringent adopting out the horses as they had said they would be, as they had no time to check backgrounds or facilities!

I showed the young girl at the counter PJ’s picture; she had stated that she went out to the ranch when the horses were picked up. Her mouth dropped open, and I could see the horror in her eyes. “That’s one of the horses we left,” she said, “but he sure doesn’t look like that anymore.” It saddened me to think that this beautiful and majestic stallion was left in the hands of someone who was slowly killing him.

I explained to her that I needed to find the horse, if he wasn’t being cared for the original owners wanted him back. She gave me the cell phone number for Kimball Lewis, the director for the Humane Society. I tried to call him from my cell phone as soon as I walked back to my car, but there was no answer. He called me back a little while later, while he was on a break from taping his Saturday morning radio show. I explained to him the situation regarding P.J., and he said he was more than willing to help me out. He said he was looking for a reason to go back to the ranch and take the rest of the horses because he was very upset about the gray mare’s death. He said to call him back in an hour, and I could follow him out to Edna’s and pick up P.J. I should have never believed that this could end so easy.

After many hours and $75.00 worth of calls on the cell phone, Kimball Lewis refused to take me out to get P.J. He said he had been back out to the ranch and he didn’t think P.J. looked all that bad, and refused to meet with me. He told me they were the type of agency that tried to work with people, and "it didn’t look good if they went in and took everyone’s animals."

Sad and despondent, I returned home, feeling like a failure.

While I was out trying to track down the exact location of P.J., Jackie took our story public. She posted our story on a Peruvian Paso mailing list we belong to, and help started pouring in. When I came home, I posted what I went through during the day and asked that people start calling the shelter Monday morning so that Kimball Lewis would realize that there were many people who were concerned about the six remaining horses.

I returned back to school for the week, my heart still aching for P.J. The week went by quickly, full of phone calls and e-mails to try to gather support. One of our most ardent supporters, Jan Musick, created a web page to help gain awareness for P.J. A letter to the editor of the local paper was refused, stating the allegations could not be proven. Contacts to the local news were ignored, with people saying that Kimball Lewis would take care of the situation. Jackie was able to contact a friend who knew where Edna’s ranch was located, and she said we could meet and she would show me where Edna lived, provided I didn’t do anything illegal. I was willing to agree to anything provided I was able to see P.J. with my own eyes.

On Saturday, April 15th, I met this person and she showed me the way to Edna’s ranch. She brought her binoculars, and I brought my camera and camcorder, hoping to get some good shots of P.J. that we could use as ammunition to get him out of there. We pulled over to the side of the road to try to look at the horses. There were three mares in a large pasture between the house and the place we were parked. We had driven past the front of the house, but could not see any horses from that location, and I thought it might be too obvious. From the side you could see most of the ranch, but no P.J. I could see a gray horse, and a chestnut horse I would later find out was another Peruvian stallion named Simon. Just then, I saw some movement…It was P.J.! I watched him walk back and forth several times, but the distance was too far to get a decent photo. I watched him for some time with the binoculars, and then grabbed the camcorder. I filmed P.J. for a few minutes, zooming in as far as the lens could. Just then, P.J. started staring at me. He wouldn’t take his eyes off me. I couldn’t believe that he could see me at that distance! He kept staring, his eyes pleading for me to take him away. Just then, as if he knew that I was thinking I had to get him out if there, he shook his head up and down as if to say ‘yes.’ I couldn’t stand it anymore, put the camcorder down, and we drove away as my heart was breaking.

I couldn’t think of what else to do to save P.J. The gate at the end of the long driveway was locked, and I couldn’t get remotely close to P.J. without trespassing. I was fearful what Edna might do if I climbed through the fence, not to mention there were two dogs there that would certainly alert Edna of any intruders. But there had to be a way to get P.J. out of there.

I thought about P.J. all night, barely getting a moment’s sleep. I felt guilty knowing that P.J. was starving, and I was warm and safe in my house. His piercing stare haunted me all night, and in the morning I decided to go back to see P.J. again.

With my camera and my daughter as a witness, I drove back to Edna’s. I had told my husband I was going to the store, but I think he knew better than that. I was quite surprised to see that part of her fence was down right next to the gate, so we could walk on in. As I walked down the driveway, I snapped several quick photos and then put the camera away because there was a dog barking. I saw Edna standing on her porch, and called out to her so I didn’t startle her by walking up on her. I apologized for arriving unannounced, and explained that I saw the fence down so I walked on in. She mentioned that she had seen the fence portion down earlier in the morning, and hadn’t gotten out to fix it yet.

I explained to Edna that the purpose of my visit was to purchase her buckskin stallion. I told her that someone that had visited her ranch two years ago had told me about the stallion (which is true), and how wonderfully he would compliment my mares. She initially was suspicious, and mentioned that if she thought that Jackie Mac Neill had sent me out, his price would be $30,000. Allegedly, for many years Jackie had been advised by several visitors there of his poor care and physical disipation, and had tried to free him. Dena couldn't see how bad his condition was impossible and had to think quickly to stay in her good grace in order to save P.J.

I asked if I could take some pictures, under the guise that my husband would never allow me to purchase a stallion without at least being able to see it. I was able to take an entire roll of film, concentrating on P.J. so I did not create suspicion. I did take a photo of another Peruvian Paso stallion, because he was P.J.’s half-brother. This other stallion was the favorite, and was fed quite well although at 10 was not even halter broke. He did allow me to pet his nose, and seemed friendly and eager for the attention. We talked for some time, and were introduced to many of the other animals at the facility. There was a herd of goats that were running loose, and since they were fending for themselves, seemed to be in good flesh. Joan took us to the chicken coop, where the peacocks had taken up residence, so my daughter could look for eggs. I later found out that because the peacocks were living in the chicken coop, the chickens were residing in the house (so they didn’t get cold).

We spent nearly two hours there, loving on P.J. and trying to convince her to allow us to purchase P.J., but she was not going to allow him to leave without inspecting my premises first. She thought she might be able to do that on the following weekend. I made me sick to think that I would have to leave P.J. there for another week, but I had exhausted all other ideas. I gave P.J. one more kiss, and whispered to him that I would be back. He seemed to understand what I was saying to him, although he wanted to follow me through the fence. I gave Joan my number with instructions to call me to arrange a time that she could come visit my home, and I took her number as well.

I went to the store and had the photos developed, and while I was waiting I placed a call to Murray and Jackie. I told Murray where I had been, and that I took photos while I was there. I left a message for Jackie to call me, so we could talk about what we could do next.

I spoke to Jackie when I got home, and was depressed that I was not able to bring P.J. home with me. After a while, Jackie came up with a brilliant idea, call Edna back and tell her that my husband said I could have P.J., but I had to do it right now or he would change his mind. I thought this was a wonderful idea, but had misgivings about using my husband as the scapegoat. We hadn’t even celebrated our first wedding anniversary yet, and I didn’t want to do anything that would jepordize things. But it was a wonderful idea, and I couldn’t think of anything better, so I placed the call to Edna. I explained that I could have the stallion, but had to come get him right now, before my hubby changed his mind. She still insisted that she wanted to inspect my premises, so I offered to bring photos of my horses to show her that they were well taken care of, the fencing was safe, and the premises were clean.

I got off the phone, and ran outside to my husband Eric. I told him that I was going out to pick up P.J., and I needed the trailer hooked up to the truck. He offered to come with me, but I felt it was better if I went by myself. Edna was very verbal about hating men, and I was afraid she might change her mind. I stopped out at the ATM machine to pick up some money, and she would have to take a check for the rest.

It was getting dark by the time I got back to Edna’s. I showed her the photo’s of our buckskin fillies, and almost fell over when she remarked, “If I didn’t know better, I would say they were related!” Little did she know, the filly’s photo she was looking at happened to be P.J.’s neice! I pulled the trailer as close as I could to where P.J.’s pen was, leaving the headlight’s on for added light. I opened the trailer doors, and silently thanked my husband for fixing the interior light of the trailer when he had replaced the floor the previous week. I grabbed a halter and lead rope, and realized in my rush I had forgotten a stud chain. Edna mentioned that she had already gotten a halter on P.J., but she didn’t know where to find her stud chain. My fear was compounded when she told me that I had to walk P.J. directly through the other stallion’s pen in order to get to the only gate in the enclosure. I wished Eric was with me, but I whispered to P.J. that we were leaving now, and he had to be good and do this for me. Edna threw a handful of grain out for the other stallion, and we made a beeline for the gate. Then we had to walk along the fence line for another 30-40 feet before we were safe. In some places, we were only separated by a strand of non-functioning hot wire, and a string of orange baling twine (this was also the way the two stallions were separated). P.J. and I walked forward, and the other stallion rushed the fence. I whispered to P.J. to be good, and he didn’t even look in the direction of the other stallion, just continued to walk toward the trailer, holding his head up high.

Once safe by the trailer, Edna made the remark that she didn’t know if he would load or not. I thought there was no way I was going to get this far with P.J. and have to return him, I would walk him home first! I whispered again to P.J. that I was taking him to a safe place where he would have lots of love and attention, and walked toward the trailer. He almost knocked me over, he jumped in so fast! I closed the doors, and proceeded to say goodbye to Edna. She mentioned she will be out the next weekend to check the facilities, and to pick up the halter that P.J. was wearing. I wasn’t sure what to do now, and mentally started to figure how we were going to house a stallion at our house for a week, until Edna came out and then I could take P.J. out to Jackie’s where he belonged. As I drove away, I called Jackie on the cell phone. “Guess who I have in my horse trailer?” I said, and we both started crying. I explained that I had to take him to my house in case Edna actually came out the following weekend, and then he would come home to her.

Of course, Edna never came to check our facilities, and after P.J. was with us for two weeks, Jackie called me and told me she wanted me to keep P.J. She felt after everything we had been through together, we needed each other (and she was right).

P.J. is thriving in our care, and recently we have started riding him. The moment he hears my voice outside, he calls for me and I always respond. My husband has been very supportive, and has helped to give P.J. the loving care he desperately needed. Our children have been willing to help, and my daughter willingly cleans his pen every day. She has claimed him as her horse. I think he is everyone’s horse. He had shown me what brio truly is, and what a Peruvian Paso stallion should be. We will never forget these gifts.

My special thanks to my husband for being so understanding, and to our children for helping with P.J.’s special needs, to Murray and Jackie Mac Neill for allowing us the gift of this wonderful stallion, and the horse I always wanted.

Special thanks are also included to the following people for helping in our time of need: Judy Amick, Julie Arnold (for her gift, the wonderful poem and contacting the Source company), Kaleena Arnold and her classmates, “Beachbunny”, Rene Been, Diane Brady, Barbara J. Collins, Don & Marge Faulstitch, Linda Garro, Allison Harmer, Dr. Harrison of Bend Equine, Tony of the Hay Depot, Melissa Hershberger, Paul Hall (for the wonderful story you wrote), Aileen Hinkle, Anne Kusmich, Cyndi Lester, Don & Doris Loeffler, Steven Mendenhall, Janine McDermott, Jan Musick, Sue Riegel, Euel B. Renouf, Dorothy and Jack Schroeder (Jack is Jackie's father and the one who delivered P.J. into this world), Susan Young Silberman, Source, Inc. (for the donation of Focus WT), Steven Sunshine, Doreen Weise, Sidney Weisheimer, Mary Zimmerman.

Our special thanks to all that made phone calls and wrote letters to the Bend Humane Society, and to anyone else that I might have not mentioned.