I have had a busy day, but no pictures to show for it. Harry is well, taking back more of his duties (like cooking, hooray!) and assiduously doing his tedious, but necessary, exercise routine. The only picture I took today was the azalea, from the porch, as I was on my way to the studio to help in there. And by help, I do not mean assist in sculpting. I mean vacuuming bugs and scraping clay off the floor (very glamorous).
In mid February, I had news of the death of a horse I called Bates. She came into my life when I was a professional in Bowling Green in 2001. She had died in her twenties, well cared for in a good home, so not terribly sad, as horse endings can be. I was dealing with Harry’s broken femur when I heard, then came coronavirus, and for these many weeks I have been meaning to find pictures of Bates, so that I could tell her story here. On that score I have failed miserably.
She was born in 1994 in Kentucky, a thoroughbred filly by Bates Motel. He was a sire of consequence, a son of Sir Ivor, one of the top racing sires of the twentieth century. She was named Babee Bates, raced five times, winning once, and then was retired as a gift to her Missouri breeder’s niece.
That niece brought Bates to me for training. I loved her, and showed her as a pre green hunter, though she seemed better suited to the jumper ring. She had tons of scope and courage. After a few months, she returned to her owner, but didn’t quite suit her. She loved a horse we had bred, called Johnny (therein lies another long story). We traded.
Well, Bates arrived in my life at turbulent time. I decided to become an amateur about the same time that I became her owner, in 2002. And then we sold our farm, and life really went into turmoil. We moved with three horses – Bates, Isaac, and Crunchie. While we were building this place, the horses were boarded. Isaac and Crunchie were on pasture board, and Bates was at Innsbrook.
When my amateur status was approved in 2003, I wasn’t riding much because of the move. At the St. Louis National Charity Horse Show that year I showed in the Amateur Adult Jumper classes. Alain Vaillancourt schooled me, and in the $10,000 Classic Bates jumped a clear round. I was nervous for the jump off, as I was already too old for going really fast. As it happened, Bates was the ONLY one clean, so we won the Classic! As Harry pointed out, I made more money ($3,000) in 60 seconds as an amateur than I had made in my entire professional career. In the only picture I have of that auspicious win, Bates is obscured by the Billy Busch family, who sponsored the class (now stars of a reality show called The Busch Family Brewed).
During the winter as 2003 turned to 2004, Bates went to Kris Killam. He was in this area, across the river in Illinois, and he wanted a horse to show over bigger jumps. I was not able to show myself that winter, with too much going on, so it was a perfect solution. Kris rode her in a Grand Prix class at the NEC. Nick Novak, who had schooled me on Bates at several shows, saw her with Kris, and, since his horse, Malone, was getting older, he thought she could be Malone’s replacement. They were both Thoroughbreds, and there were some similarities. I was very sad to sell her, but thought it would be a great home, and she would become as famous as Malone with Nick riding her. Ha!
Bates was not careful enough at speed for Nick, and he became frustrated with that. Having assured me that he was not going to sell her, after a year of her failure to live up to Malone’s standards, word reached me that Bates had gone to a dealer up east. I was devastated.
That winter, I asked a friend to look into the story. She went to the dealer when he was showing in Florida, and learned that Bates had been sold to a girl in Virginia. My friend even found the girl showing in Florida. She loved Bates, and that is all we really want for the horses that pass through our lives – to be loved and well cared for. She was, however, a young girl, so there is always the worry over what will happen when college replaces horse showing. Still, we can’t control everything. I hoped for the best.
Then, in February of 2008, I was at the NEC with Jane and I saw a horse in the ring that had to be Bates. She was plain dark bay, but surely, it was her. I rushed to the gate, and as she exited the ring, I introduced myself to the rider, a girl from Chicago. Her name was Alexis Knurowski, and her horse was called Ruehl. It was indeed, the horse I knew as Bates. The horse had come from Virginia, and came with the name “Wanda” (Bates’ mother was Exclusive Wanda). She was younger than she had been, and her papers were lost, but it was definitely her.
There is a poem I learned when I was young, called Little New Colt, one stanza of which says “May he find one rider, Before his life be done, To share his feel of flying, His own Bellerophon”. Bates, now Ruehl, had found that rider in Alexis. They were a perfect partnership. When I saw them, they were showing in the High Junior Jumpers, and they were on fire that winter and spring, winning 9 classes in a row in serious competition over big jumps.
As happens with horses, though, an accident ended Ruehl’s career at the height of her success. Alexis coped with the disappointment and never wavered in her love for Ruehl. She kept her, found a stallion, and Ruehl turned out to be as good a mother as she had been a jumper. She was bred to top warmblood stallions, and her first foal, Romy, is still with Alexis.
Alexis turned out to be more than just a perfect owner for Ruehl, she became a “long term pen pal” (her term) for me. She has stayed in touch for twelve years, sending pictures of Ruehl and her babies. Now, Alexis, who was a teenager when I met her, is a grown woman, engaged to be married, and still a passionate horsewoman. As luck would have it, she is marrying into a horse family, the Boyles, in Chicago. Blake Boyle seems to be a great guy, and I am very happy for them. Ruehl’s daughter, Romy, is competing in the jumpers with Alexis, filling her mother’s shoes and carrying on her legacy.
Alexis and Romy 
Alexis & Blake with Romy
So, finally, a peaceful ending to a lucky life, which we know is not always the case for horses, whose lives are precarious. It was incredible good fortune for me to have come to know Alexis through that plain brown Thoroughbred mare, who was full of fire and heart. She lives on through her offspring and in our memories. Galloping through…
Thank you for sharing your wonderful story of lucky Bates! Yes, the only people I have known who can make horses grow young again are horse dealers and riding teachers hahaha. Isn’t marvelous how she found her way back to you, without requiring you to buy or feed or vet her. The best luck.
Stories such as these bring moisture of gratitude to my eyes. It is the internal never ending empathy I have always felt towards horses. Odd it doesn’t matter if I know them or not. Thank you Anne❤️🏇 Lucky Bates/Ruehl
O wonderful! Thank you for the story. The poetic stanza made me tearful, and you’re right : Her life was just what we hope and pray for for our own loved ones. I am so lucky today because I finished mowing in time to sit and read this wonderful account.