A Lifetime With Horses, by Sheila Varian, featured in April 2009 Arabian Horse Times

Looking back to April 2009

A LIFETIME WITH HORSES, by Sheila Varian

A Lifetime W ith Ar

Bay El Bey, The

abians

Kingmaker

by Sh eil a Va ria n

We cal led Bay El Bey “the King ma ker,” and for good reason. He was the sire of Huckleberry Bey, Bey Shah, and Ba rba ry; each has had a huge inf luence on the Arabian horse aro und the world and in every div ision of the show ring.

It is est imated tha t 70 percent of the horses winning in the Arabian breed today have Va ria n blood in them.

Bay El Bey, a son of Bay-Abi, was mo re than just a great sire. He was innate to himself, just as Bay-Abi was to himself. Bay-Abi was the funny, cle ver horse who tho ught

up all the bright ide as. Bay El Bey wa s a ver y kingly, reserved horse. He was tal l, standing 15.2, however, he looked even tal ler, because while his neck ref lected the cur ves of Bay-Abi’s , it had the length and high set of his Polish dam, *N aganka, who was impor ted by Varia Arabians in 1961. n Bay El Bey was a beautiful ly confor horse, although som me d e might say he wa s a little bit too Thoroughbred-look ing, with his lovely long shoulder and a hip that had som e cur ve to it. He car ried a great tail, and had wonderf ul, let-dow n hocks, bea utiful balance, and ver y kind eye s.

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A Lifetime With Arabians

Bay El Bey, The Kingmaker

by Sheila Varian We called Bay El Bey “the Kingmaker,” and for good reason. He was the sire of Huckleberry Bey, Bey Shah, and Barbary; each has had a huge inf luence on the Arabian horse around the world and in every division of the show ring. It is estimated that 70 percent of the horses winning in the Arabian breed today have Varian blood in them.

Bay El Bey, a son of Bay-Abi, was more than just a great sire. He was innate to himself, just as Bay-Abi was to himself. Bay-Abi was the funny, clever horse who thought

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up all the bright ideas. Bay El Bey was a very kingly, reserved horse. He was tall, standing 15.2, however, he looked even taller, because while his neck reflected the curves of Bay-Abi’s, it had the length and high set of his Polish dam, *Naganka, who was imported by Varian Arabians in 1961. Bay El Bey was a beautifully conformed horse, although some might say he was a little bit too Thoroughbred-looking, with his lovely long shoulder and a hip that had some curve to it. He carried a great tail, and had wonderful, let-down hocks, beautiful balance, and very kind eyes.

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A Lifetime With Arabians To say that Bay El Bey was absolutely critical in the Varian program is a huge understatement. It is almost eerie, though, to realize how many times everything could have changed if fate hadn’t been kind to us.

When Bay El Bey was a colt, both of my parents were ill, and I spent much of my time running from one hospital to another. Consequently, I did very little with Bay El Bey, and did not see that much of him when he was a young horse (other than to throw hay over the fence twice a day). He grew up out on Colt Hill, a steep 15 acres, with the other youngsters. When Bay El Bey was 2, I was offered $12,500 for him by a wonderful gentleman named Turner, who was purchasing sight unseen. I accepted the offer; we agreed on a verbal contract, and noted that Bay El Bey had to be sound when he came to look at him. I caught Bay El Bey up out of the hills, worked the knots out of his mane and tail, and decided to body clip him to get off his winter coat and see what was really under all that hair. After I clipped and bathed Bay El Bey, I stood back, gasped, and thought, “Oh, my gosh, I have made a terrible, terrible mistake!” Under all that hair and the tangled mane and tail was hidden my ideal Arabian: he was tall, elegant, had great knees and joints, and the most beautiful neck I had ever seen. But a handshake is a handshake, and I’d given my word that I would sell Bay El Bey.

two U.S. National Reserve Champion Stallion wins, and three top ten wins. He was a great horse to show because he was so game, and yet soft in my hands. Bay El Bey wasn’t an aggressive stallion; he was a gentle soul. He never pulled on a halter, pushed, or stepped on me. He preferred to put his head in my arms and let the rest of the world go by.

At any rate, we were at the Nationals—I think in Louisville, so it was probably 1978—when Bay El Bey was 9 years old. After the championship class, the champion, reserve, and top ten stallions were always kept in the ring, and the audience was invited to come down and see the horses up close, which was a wonderful opportunity for people to seriously look at the winners.

You might be in the arena an hour, as people moved from one horse to another, and it was a long hour for a horse to stand up. In those days, the halter classes were reasonably long to begin with. Going through all the cuts, you’d be up against 40 or 50 horses in stallion halter, since there were no junior or futurity classes.

Three days later, my lame horse trotted out of his stall sound as a dollar. It turned out that he had suffered an infected tendon, which makes a horse very sore, very quickly. Antibiotics prescribed by a veterinarian returned him to normal, and as I recall, I looked toward heaven with a huge amount of gratitude. Bay El Bey was off the market, and that was the first and last time he came near being sold and leaving his life in the hills of Varian Arabians.

Bay El Bey was standing up, and I was standing at the very end of his lead, about 10 feet away. He was an imposing stallion; he would stand with this very regal air that was him to his soul. People crowded around and looked at him as they went from horse to horse in the ring. I saw a young man—a kid, really, about 18 or 20 years old, with very refined features—walk slowly up to Bay El Bey. Another man was close by, obviously with the young man, but just apart. Bay El Bey was standing up with a big pose, very tall at his 15.2, with that wonderful swan neck he has given to our breed, looking out over everyone. When the boy reached up to touch Bay El Bey’s nose, I realized suddenly that there was something different going on here. Bay El Bey slowly, gently, dropped his head to the boy’s level, and the boy started tracing my stallion’s nostrils inside and out, then sliding his fingers slowly up into and around his eyes. Bay El Bey was standing absolutely stock-still, with his head lowered, his eyes half-shut, as the kid’s fingers searched his face, going up his forehead, around the edges of his ears and then inside. With his touch, the boy traced forever his memory of Bay El Bey. Bay never moved a muscle.

There are wonderful stories about Bay El Bey. One of my favorites came following a stallion class at one of the U.S. Nationals. Over the years, I showed Bay El Bey to the Canadian National Championship in stallion halter,

The crowd around Bay El Bey at this point perceived that something very, very special was happening, and silently stepped back. It became obvious the kid was blind. Quietly, and very much alone, he traced every bit

Life seems to take care of those not smart enough to take care of themselves. On the day Mr. Turner’s agent arrived, Bay El Bey hobbled out of the stall on three legs.

I couldn’t have made him any more lame if I’d hit him in the knee with a hammer. Because our verbal contract said “sound,” of course Mr. Turner turned Bay El Bey down.

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A Lifetime With Arabians of Bay El Bey’s face. It was as though a light was shining down on my wonderful brown horse and this young man; all the rest of us were on the periphery of the light—just horse lovers on the outside, looking in on a horse that instinctively knew what people often miss. It was no longer a horse show, but rather, a very touching moment.

Everyone close stopped moving, looking, and talking, and silently let the magic of a horse and a blind boy happen.

When the young man moved away, Bay El Bey lifted his head and resumed his show horse pose, and those of us on the outside stood entranced with what we had been a part of. Remembering it still makes me catch my breath.

be the end of that day’s gallop. I’d kick my feet out of the stirrups and Bay El Bey would cool off on the ride home. It was a good, strong 20-minute workout that was fun for me, great conditioning for Bay El Bey, excitement for Amber, and I do believe the rabbit had a great time as well. He must have, as he was always available for the next day’s dash. I didn’t worry that Bay El Bey might go lame or bump a leg or trip in a hole, and of course, since I didn’t worry about him tripping and hurting himself, he didn’t. Mr. Rabbit must have been so disappointed after Nationals when Bay El Bey and Amber didn’t show up to play as usual.

That has been one of my dearest stories about Bay El Bey. What I would give for a picture!

Bay El Bey was intuitive, he had good sense, and his manners were wonderful. As he became well known as a breeding stallion, I decided bringing him out of his stall and asking him to stand up every time a visitor came would eventually wear on him, so I changed the game. Bay El Bey had his own stall, of course, and all of our stalls have bars so the stallions can visit and muse and touch whoever is beside them. At that time, the stallions were together in the same barn; even though they were breeding stallions, they got on very well. There is a cement walkway in front of all of the stalls, with a wide alley to ride around the stalls in bad weather.

When people came to see Bay El Bey, I opened his door with no halter on him, and then backed up against the outside wall, so I was about 15 feet away. Bay El Bey would step out and stand with his front feet, shoulders, head and neck outside the stall, and people could enjoy him and pet him. I think he understood that was as far as I wanted him to come. I didn’t train him; I gave him the opportunity to present himself in a natural manner. He took it, and in his own very stately way, handled it.

There are other wonderful memories as well. Bay El Bey and I got in shape for the Nationals in our own (what would now seem peculiar) way. In this day and age, trainers condition horses for the National Championships with sweats on horses’ necks and wraps on their legs, lunging, using treadmills, or swimming in a pool. I had a much more fun and unique way of conditioning Bay El Bey. At the time, I had a most beautiful whippet dog named Amber. Every day, I saddled up and rode out of my barn. I’d whistle up Amber, and head out through the back mare pasture and into the 350-acre hill country that adjoins the ranch with a smile on my face, because every day the same scenario was played out. A particular rabbit was in the same particular spot every day. The rabbit seemed to me to be waiting for the games to begin—same place, same station, rabbit sees us coming and bounds off. Amber, in full whippet stride, takes off after the rabbit. Then it was Bay El Bey’s and my turn, galloping after Amber, who was flying at full speed after the rabbit. We raced through rough country, mane flying in my face, in total freedom, racing on my horse, chasing my dog that was chasing her rabbit. Mr. Rabbit would run us all around that 350 acres, and then would dive into the brush somewhere along the way, and that would

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As I mentioned, there were a few turning point moments in the life of Bay El Bey when important things just seemed to fall into place. Of his three sons who came to be the most influential—Huckleberry Bey, Bey Shah and Barbary—two might easily never have been foaled had luck not been on our side. I got Huck’s dam, Taffona,

A Lifetime With Arabians because her owners couldn’t get her to accept a foal.

I thought, “I’ll bet I can get her to accept a foal,” bought her for $3,000 or $3,500, and bred her to Bay El Bey. She produced Huckleberry Bey, whom she raised beautifully, as she did all the rest of her foals. Bey Shah was almost an accident. Lester and Jennie Walton, who owned Bey Shah’s dam, Star of Ofir, got lost on their way to breed her to another stallion and drove into the farm to get directions.

I gave them the directions and then asked if they would like to see Bay El Bey while they were here.

They said “yes,” looked Bay over, and decided at that moment to leave Star of Ofir to be bred to Bay El Bey. The resulting foal was Bey Shah.

Just as I used to ride Bay-Abi out in the fields to tease the mares, when Angela Alvarez joined the staff at Varian Arabians 24 years ago, she did the teasing by leading Bay El Bey out into the back mare pasture. All the mares and foals would come up to say hello. Just as I had on Bay-Abi, Angela would use the long lash whip, plopping it over the back of whatever mare she didn’t want to tease at that moment. That was the way Bay El Bey and she determined which mares were in heat and ready to breed.

Eventually, of course, Bay El Bey got older.

While Bay-Abi would always let you know if he thought something was not satisfactory, Bay El Bey never complained. He was so quiet that you had to be very aware that he was changing. As stallions get older, they know their own capabilities; they know who could win the battle if they were in the wild (I think maybe horses raised in stalls will bluff, but horses who have been raised out in large pastures understand a lot more about real horse life). When Bay El Bey started standing in the back of his stall and not looking like his normal-but-quiet self, Angela and I both realized that he was not happy in the show barn any longer. He was next to other stallions that were coming of age, and he realized that he could not defend himself. Even though there was no threatening or fighting in their stalls, the stallions still talked to each other, and Bay El Bey knew. So we moved him up to the breeding shed at night and he had his grass pasture during the day. When Huckleberry Bey became ill, Bay El Bey shared the pasture for the year that Huck lived prior to his death in 1992. Then Bay El Bey moved back to his field, where he lived out his life until 1996, when

he died at the age of 28. As life moves forward as it does, that pasture now belongs to Desperado V, who is 23. It was claimed by him to be his own until the inevitable time comes that the next great Varian stallion will have this same pasture to enjoy in his old age—safe, loved, and revered by all of us who have watched over them for so many years. ■ Sheila Varian, of Arroyo Grande, Calif., has bred, trained and shown Arabians for more than half a century. Now in its ninth generation, the Varian Arabians program is a dynasty of her bloodlines, with national champions in nearly every division. She has been a leading breeder at Scottsdale and the U.S. Nationals many times, and in 2008 received the USEF/Performance Horse Registry Leading Breeder Award, a selection made over all breeds. Sheila’s own record includes U.S. and Canadian National Championships in halter, English, park, stock horse, and western. She is a recognized authority in the equine industry as a whole, and was inducted into the Cowgirl Hall of Fame in Fort Worth, Texas, in 2003. Her techniques for socializing and training horses are based on the “soft approach” of the legendary Tom Dorrance, with whom she was close friends from their introduction in the 1960s until his death in 2003.

For more information on Varian Arabians, and its April Spring Fling and August Summer Jubilee weekends, please go to www.varianarabians.com.

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