Eight years ago today a little black colt was born in a snowstorm. He wasn’t born in a warm barn, or soft straw, he was born outside in the cold. A hard beginning for one of life’s endearing survivors.

When I first met Pao he appeared to be angry at the world. I saw him with his mother and he was lying down – scraggly, raggedy, on a crooked set of legs and dirty brown coat. He glared up at Carbon and I with one nostril wrinkled up on one side as if to say “is this all you got?!” I knew I had to have him. Why I knew I couldn’t say, despite a crooked set of legs, and obvious malnutrition he had magic in his soul.

A few months later he was mine, and then what would I do with him. He was not halter broke, he was skittish and most of all he wanted nothing to do with me, on some occasions when I managed to catch him which could take an hour he might be inclined to bite me. To this day my mom calls him Dragon Pony and my husband refers to him as the Alligator Horse. Yet if you win him over, he will fight to the end for you no matter the cost…

When spring came, Pao set me on the path to being more than just a trainer who could ride a horse through rough spots but a trainer who would learn how to see into a horse’s soul and how to tell their story and often, help them outgrow that story and start a new one.

Pao earned his name from the painter Paolo Uccello. Uccello translates to “bird” in Italian and there was a certain painting of a girl with long red hair on a black horse in the middle of the battlefield that struck me – the meaning ran deep. So I shortened Paolo to Pao pronounced “Pay-o”.

There is nothing wounded about Pao, he is made of tough stuff. He would rather die than give in to someone’s will do does not ask him the right way. He would be on three legs and still try for you; he is a true warrior pony, heart and soul. Pao was never supposed to remain sound enough to ride this long, there was never any guarantee made that he would even be sound enough to ride at all. Though he is to this day still sound, still meeting me at the gate and still happy to do his job. I have never treated Pao as if he had a physical problem that would keep him from his job, and he has never been unable to do his job. This has helped me reach people with problems – by using my horse as an example…

When Pao was 2 years old he and I did an “at liberty” demonstration in front of 250 people. I warmed him up in the round pen, and from the round pen through the stalls, bunches of horses he went me with no halter or lead to the main arena. When the music cued a whole new side of Pao emerged. The more people were impressed the more he performed. At the end of the performance I laid him down in front of all of the applauding people and he stayed still and quiet until cued him to rise. That day marked my first non-competition landmark in my training business.

I owe this horse a tremendous amount of gratitude. He has taught me when to push a horse and when to find a better way, when to try the method that no other trainer would use and most of all he’s taught me that the power of a horse’s soul is not measured by physical capacity, breeding or expectations of others. This horse has tested my limits as a trainer more than any other horse I’ve met; as he should he has made me better… Pao I believe came here to make me a better teacher one that is not afraid of a challenge, no matter how scared, damaged or hurt the horse might be. Because of Pao I believe in myself…

Happy Birthday my little Indian Warpony, I am so blessed that you choose me.