AJ's Story

He came into our lives during the crisp days of early spring--a time when the land is bursting with fresh hope and the promise of renewed life.  

Our senses were filled that day with the heady mixture of sweet hay and horseflesh as we entered the darkened stable in search of Ajax's stall. "Keep going," we'd been told. "He's in the back. You can't miss him."

And they were right. For there, standing ankle-deep in filth, disturbingly thin and missing an eye, was a horse so manure-stained it was impossible to decipher his palomino paint markings. And if pinned ears didn't convey his thoughts, presenting us with his bony backside did: "Go away and leave me alone".  

I can only imagine the smirking going on out front by some of the old-timers envisioning our shock. "Well, she won't last long," they might have said, knowing Ajax's stubborn reputation. Little did they know, however, the tenacity of our ten-year-old Shauna. For it made no difference that he had only one eye, or even an "attitude" for that matter. Ajax was a horse. And for her, that's what counted.

Commenting on Ajax's lack of muscle tone, we learned that he often went without food. What despondency he must have known as others arrived with treats and kind words for their horses. Knowing, while the lush aroma of alfalfa teased his nostrils, that he'd be lucky to get a flake or two of last year's grass hay--donated by a person whose picky horse refused to eat.  

Word was he'd severely injured his eye as a yearling. Though it should have been removed, it wasn't--not until years of neglect had taken their toll, triggering malignancy.

Scrappy and stubborn, Ajax fought us every step of the way from things as simple as putting on his halter to the bigger stuff like tightening the cinch. Over the next year came the grueling process of teaching Shauna the importance of a firm but gentle hand--and teaching Ajax (who by now we'd nicknamed "AJ") that not all humans were untrustworthy.  

In time we learned that AJ was a rare Medicine Hat Horse-a breed recognized by a white body and the distinctive "war bonnet" of color across the top of its head. In researching the breed we discovered that several Native American tribes valued this horse, considering it magical in its ability to safeguard and protect its rider from harm. AJ's value, however, had obviously gone unrecognized.

Eventually, after nearly eighteen months of consistent care and Shauna's innate calm and quiet nature, we were rewarded one day with perked ears and a whisper-soft nicker of recognition. Up until then he had been emotionally dead, despite the fact that we always brought him carrots, kept his stall clean, and that his ribs were beginning to disappear.  

Over time the love and trust between Shauna and AJ grew into a bond that was visible even to a stranger's eye. No longer was it a soft nicker that greeted us, but a full-blown, roof-raising whinny. And no longer was AJ the homeliest horse in the barn. Months of loving care had transformed him into a shiny, well-muscled animal who loved life, loved his family...and adored his Shauna.

By now, Shauna had joined 4H. Between AJ's eagerness to please along with the expertise of Kris, who gave of her time through the years to coach Shauna's riding skills, they began earning ribbons. AJ loved the challenge of the arena, loved being on display, and with each horse show we watched his long-buried self-esteem rise higher.  

His distinctive and uncommonly fluid gait soon became his trademark. So smooth and exceptionally beautiful to watch, he became known as the "Rocking Horse". Shauna's large collection of ribbons and champion trophies reflect their winning teamwork as AJ responded to her gentle cues and quiet voice.

Bliss did not last, however, as cancer once again returned, sending AJ back into surgery. But this time the prognosis was "One good year and one bad." The news was devastating, but as we prepared for the worst, AJ prepared for the best, proving himself both physically and emotionally ready in record time. Shauna waited until the last possible minute before making the decision to take him to County Fair--only two and a half months after surgery. Not only did they earn blues, once again they qualified for State. However, out of love and consideration for AJ, Shauna withdrew her name from the State Team. Just knowing they'd earned it was reward enough.  

Too soon the "first" year had passed and not fully understanding the strong spirit of a Medicine Hat Horse, we grimly anticipated a gradual decline in AJ's health. However, "Decline" wasn't in AJ's vocabulary as he continued to beat the odds. We felt lucky, and yet a little voice in the back of my mind kept saying "Luck has nothing to do with it. He's a Medicine Hat."

The summer of 1999 marked the beginning of AJ's third "good" year after surgery and still no signs of ill health. It was also Shauna's 8th and final year in 4H. Who would have ever thought her 21-year old, one-eyed gelding (trained simply with love and patience) would earn one of 4H's highest county awards. Even up against a couple of professionally trained horses, AJ and Shauna walked away with the 1999 Senior Grand Champion trophies in both Western and English Equitation.  

What a tribute to the bond between them! What a send off for their final year in 4H! From a horse who wouldn't even let her put on his halter without giving her trouble, now nine years later AJ would have stood on his head if she'd asked it.

"Maybe there truly is something to the Legend of the Medicine Hat". After all, only a legendary horse would have the courage to rise above the loss of an eye and years of neglect to become County Champion. From there they went on to State (for the fifth time in a row) where they continued to earn blues.  

AJ may not have understood all the pomp and ceremony, nor the importance of Shauna's final year in 4H, but there's no doubt he knew that particular horse show was very important--different from all the rest.

By March of 2000, AJ was still showing no signs of being under stress. No signs of failing. Shauna signed up for a local Spring Horseshow. It was to be his final. Many professionally trained horses were in competition that day. Yet, once again the little one-eyed medicine hat pulled away with seven ribbons--two of which were blues.  

Three months later, without warning, AJ's health took a sudden nosedive. At approximately 3:00pm on June 19, 2000 in a peaceful field of daisies, with his head resting in Shauna's lap and his family gathered around for love and support, our beloved friend quietly returned to his ancestors.

He'd given his heart to a little girl--who from the moment she first saw him, loved him in spite of himself. And though he died knowing he was truly loved, the void he left behind is... unspeakable.  

According to Native American Legend, when a Medicine Hat Horse dies, his spirit returns to Earth to help guide a newborn Medicine Hat foal. If that is true, then what a magnificent role model AJ is for some lucky colt or filly.

AJ's heartwarming story earned him the honor of being the first horse in the Medicine Hat Horse Registry's Hall of Fame. Also, exactly one year after his passing, Country Magazine ran his story as a feature article in their June 2001 issue.  

"Until one has loved an animal,
part of their soul remains unawakened"