THE UNKNOWN DANGER

It’s one of those things we don’t like thinking about, but sometimes we don’t have a choice.

I’m talking about protecting our lifestyle. Not about security alarms, or water sprinking systems or locks on every door, although those things are great. What I’m talking about is the kind of safety for your horses that comes with neighbors and friends “keeping an eye on things” for each other. The kind of strength that comes from all of us looking out for Arabian racing.

Recently, we had a taste of reality. We have a training stable and track on another farm a few miles from here. Besides three rented houses on the place and a studio I keep in the loft of the barn, nobody actually stays overnight there. I like keeping Nahgua there (Nugui El Khamsin, who is my riding horse and was featured in my novel Fate of the Stallion) because we can ride on the track and because I like having him near me when I work. At the time, Nahgua was recovering from a serious weight loss that we couldn’t understand and the vets were reminding me that he is now in his twenties and he might not be with me forever. His son, Briggin, was also stabled there and we checked on them several times a day. Other than for the two stallions, the rest of the stalls were empty since we were waiting for a new trainer to move his horses in. Because it looks more presentable, we have a rule to always make sure the sliding doors of every stall are kept closed and latched. There were eight empty stalls in that barn, another dozen in a second barn.

I grew up around here, which is the Northern part of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania’s farm country. I guess I’m used to a certain amount of privacy when you have a barn set back about a quarter mile off the road. But, I guess there are a lot of things I’m used to that you can’t count on any more. I wasn’t prepared for the call that morning.

Before they could finish telling me what happened, I was in my truck and on my way. Nahgua was hurt and that’s all I had to hear. When I got there, I was stunned. Never, had I imagined the beautiful horse that meant so much to me would end up like this under my care. We all have a favorite horse, once that means more than any other. In Nahgua’s case, I had glorified him and Arabian racing in stories, an audiobook read over the radio in New York City, in TV appearances and in newspapers and magazines throughout the world. Now, right before my eyes, both stallions were loose in the center aisle of the barn. And they were fighting. Briggin was fighting because he wanted to. Nahgua was fighting for his life.

Their stalls had been unlatched and their sliding doors were open. The mystery deepened when we saw that not only theirs, but every stall in the barn had been unlatched and slid wide open as well. How did it happen? All of us wanted to know how the stallions got loose – and why.

But, perhaps the deeper mystery is why anyone would do such a thing. As word of the vandalism got out, we received many letters and phone calls here at the farm coming from horse owners asking what really happened. It’s been suggested that we were targeted by animal rights fanatics acting out a scene from one of my novels. Although we in Arabian racing love our horses, and that’s why we have them, there are many people trying to destroy our way of life through the media and legislation. National organizations have taken a stand against animal sports such as horse racing and they are getting more public attention than ever before. The emotional passion of the animal rights movement runs deep, but no animal lover would turn loose two stallions to tear themselves apart in a closed barn with no escape – and open wide every stall door in the place to make sure we knew it was on purpose.

Protect yourselves. Protect your horses and our way of life. Make friends with your neighbors. Ask them to look out for your stables always, and thank them when they do.

For those who have asked about Nahgua, he’s back in shape and all patched up. Once again, I’m riding him on the track for anyone to see. If the vandals message was “Look out! We’re dangerous. We can hurt you!” I think our message is equally strong: “Yes, we know you’re out there. But, so are we. And Arabian racing is here to stay.”