The final semester of my senior year as an Equine Studies major was when I was first introduced to Cobs and Connor's breeder. Dr. Marks, the chair of the equine department and my adviser, asked me to take Training and Handling II, where you break a horse to saddle for an outside client, because she wanted to be my client.
She wouldn't put her Welsh Cob, Shae, in the class unless I was assigned to him, because he was not quite three, and she wanted someone "so light he wouldn't know you're there" and "with your sense of humor, it's necessary to work with Welsh Cobs."
He was still at the college for my graduation at the end of the semester, so after the ceremony I went - where else - across campus to the barn. All photos by my mom.
|See his crooked ears? My college has used this photo in programs and marketing materials.|
|Still so young, not even close to being filled out.|
I loved him, how could I not? He was the first Welsh Cob I ever met, and I was totally in love with the breed and with him. Dr. Marks even offered him to me once, but I had to admit to myself after working with him for a semester that Shae didn't want to be a sporthorse despite being built for it. He's now in the perfect home: on a heritage farm in Vermont, hanging out with the family dairy cow and a couple of horse crazy children.