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

Looking back to June 2009

A LIFETIME WITH HORSES, by Sheila Varian

A Lifetime W ith Ar

Huckleberry Bey

abians

by Sh eil a Va ria n W hen Huckleberry Bey (Bay El Bey x Ta ffo na) was foa led on March 19, we ll. His mother, Ta 1976, he simply wa ffona, had had a foa s different from any Arabian I had l and rejected it.

Her ow ners didn’t ever seen. With all want her if she wo of his cur ves, his tail and his expres uldn’t take a foa l, and so I thought, “I’l l sion, he looked lik bet I can get her to e one of the beauti horses on a carous ful take a foa l.” I bought her for $3, el, and def initely he 00 0, and bred her would have been the one everybody to Ba y El Bey. W hen Ta ffo wanted to ride. He na foa led, her bag was ver y tight and was a rich, dark bay, with a white hot, so every three to four hours strip on his face, and I gave her a little when he moved, he moved as if all bit of diuretic to take away the pain. bridled up as the mo In 24 hours she lov st elegant English horse — except he ed her baby, and from then on, she was trotting free. was a good, solidproducing mare. As the story goes, for the want of a shoe, Just as I was for tun the war was lost.

For the want of the ate to find Bay-Abi milk, the mare wo at an auction, and Bey Shah was uld not have been mine. So Taffona an accident in tha took her foa l, and t the Wa ltons were hauling Star of Of the n there was Huck. ir to a different sta llion when they saw Bay El Bey, Hu Huckleberry Bey ckleberry Bey was was so different. I good for tune as have always been intrig ued with wh ere he came from.

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A Lifetime With Arabians

Huckleberry Bey

by Sheila Varian When Huckleberry Bey (Bay El Bey x Taffona) was foaled on March 19, 1976, he simply was different from any Arabian I had ever seen. With all of his curves, his tail and his expression, he looked like one of the beautiful horses on a carousel, and definitely he would have been the one everybody wanted to ride. He was a rich, dark bay, with a white strip on his face, and when he moved, he moved as if all bridled up as the most elegant English horse—except he was trotting free.

Just as I was fortunate to find Bay-Abi at an auction, and Bey Shah was an accident in that the Waltons were hauling Star of Ofir to a different stallion when they saw Bay El Bey, Huckleberry Bey was good fortune as

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well. His mother, Taffona, had had a foal and rejected it.

Her owners didn’t want her if she wouldn’t take a foal, and so I thought, “I’ll bet I can get her to take a foal.” I bought her for $3,000, and bred her to Bay El Bey. When Taffona foaled, her bag was very tight and hot, so every three to four hours I gave her a little bit of diuretic to take away the pain. In 24 hours she loved her baby, and from then on, she was a good, solid-producing mare. As the story goes, for the want of a shoe, the war was lost.

For the want of the milk, the mare would not have been mine. So Taffona took her foal, and then there was Huck.

Huckleberry Bey was so different. I have always been intrigued with where he came from. Taffona was a

A Lifetime With Arabians very pretty bay mare. She had an influence on his look, and there was some of Bay El Bey you could see. But then Mother Nature stirred the genetic pot, and as the numbers lit up, she came up with Huckleberry Bey, who was different from every other horse, including his sire and dam. He looked like he had just stepped off the musical carousel at the circus.

When Huck was about 6 months old, it came time to name him, and at that time, I was not using the first letter of the mare’s name or the “V” as I do now. The picture that kept running through my mind as I thought of this cheerful, happy, curious, clever, long-legged, little bay colt was of Mark Twain’s Huck Finn, floating down a river in his denim shorts torn off at the knees, chewing on a straw, eating berries, and watching the world go by.

That’s how I came up with ‘Huckleberry,’ and the ‘Bey’ was for his dad. It is a vision—the little dark bay colt who could have been a young country boy, splashing water

with his feet as he floated down the river on the raft, chewing on a bit of straw and thinking, “Life is good! I’m having a really fine time.”

When he was foaled, Huck was adorable; at 3 months old, Huck was still adorable. I just couldn’t figure out what to do with him. What do you do with a horse that doesn’t look real? He wasn’t very broad, and when he pranced around, his little front legs would cross over in front of one another. He would cock his neck and pretend to be scared, and peek out from behind his mother with a funny little twinkle in his eye. Just looking at him, you had to smile. But what to do with him? Then he aged to about 8 months, and while his “carousel look” stayed, everything about him came together. I knew then I had a really, really special horse, a horse that might be a substantial influence on the breed. I decided to take him to Scottsdale, where he attracted a lot of attention in the yearling colt class. As I remember, I placed third, but

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A Lifetime With Arabians everyone else remembers him winning the class—always a good sign. We drove home, I pulled Huck’s blanket, and as we do here, turned him out on Colt Hill with the other yearlings to grow up. Except to experiment with breeding him to a few mares, we didn’t bring him into the barn until he was a coming 3-year-old.

Bringing Huck to the barn to start training was as usual, and like lots of young horses, he was soft, except that Huck was soft and supple. Actually, he was like a 10-year-old boy who hasn’t developed his muscles yet, and walks through a room, tripping over chairs and running into tables. Huck didn’t trip over things, but he was back to his baby days, where his arms and legs didn’t go in the same direction. When young colts have been out in the pasture 24 hours a day with their friends, they physically let down, get soft and sloppy I think you could say. They play together and they’re in wonderful health, but they’re either too lean, if they are shy, or too fat, if they are the herd leader. Huck was one of the leaders. I remember looking at him in the crossties, this chubby, soft youngster, and the word “gelding” flashed through my brain. But I decided I wouldn’t do anything, and I would wait. If a colt or filly has been unique and beautiful as a baby, most often they come back to it, although if they look like little miniature adults as babies, my experience is they don’t mature well.

As I said, youngsters don’t stay in tight condition as they grow up if they are out with friends to play with, rain to stand in, and hills to run over. Let’s put it this way: If you walked out to my Colt Hill and had no experience, you well could be saying (as I have many times, looking at yearling colts sleeping under a tree, worn out from playing with their friends, a few skinned marks showing), “Oh, my!”—in a hushed voice—“It appears … the program … is over.” Bring them to the barn, and three months later you wouldn’t even recognize that little stranger who was standing under the tree with all his friends.

When we started Huck in training, we didn’t do much groundwork at the time. My approach was if I could catch it, I could ride it (ignorant as that may seem), so when it was time to ride Huck, it was winter and it happened to be wet. Instead of riding outside, we were in the barn. In our show barn, you can ride around the stalls under the cover. However, young horses struggle to make it around those corners at a canter until they have been ridden for

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a while and have their balance. Either Bill Haven, an apprentice in those days, or I rode Huck the first time.

Immediately Huck was able to do the softest little canter; he set his head in this perfect English pleasure position, and we cantered around the barn corners and down the aisle. I was completely astonished. In our astonishment at his capabilities, we then made the mistake of forgetting to train him, and of course, eventually horses do have to be trained. It was a little while before I got my thoughts together and went back to teaching him what he needed to know for the future.

Huckleberry Bey was a sensitive horse. When you touched his skin, you almost felt that if you pinched it, it would tear. You could see such expression in his eyes.

He was delicate and liked us to be around, especially at shows, when he got bored. One day he had a bright idea that made him happy and kept us entertained as well.

All he needed was a jacket with a zipper, and Huck was in heaven. It wasn’t that he needed toys; you could put all your tack in his stall and he wouldn’t touch it. But stand in front of him wearing a jacket with a zipper, and Huck was transported. He would take the zipper in his teeth ever so gently, and run it up and down. Up and down … up and down. His eyes would get so blissful, and he would stand so quietly, the zipper in his teeth. Up and down, never ripping or tearing or messing up any clothing. We’d all stand around watching him with his zipper, having just as much fun as he was. We searched for jackets and vests with the tiniest zippers we could find, just to see if he could get a hold of the zipper end and play this game. That was Huck, impishly cute and clever.

When I sit still and just let my memories of Huckleberry Bey flood back, I am almost overwhelmed. His personality was so strong that the stories just fall over one another. Here are a few.

When we started Huckleberry Bey, he must have seen himself quite different than he was. Maybe he peeked at some rodeo television show when I wasn’t looking, because I guess he envisioned himself as a rodeo horse.

The only thing was, his opinion of his abilities and his actual abilities didn’t match. When Huck hadn’t been saddled for a while and you mounted up, he would put his head down, open his mouth, and with much enthusiasm go crow-hopping around. Fortunately, he could jump

A Lifetime With Arabians

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A Lifetime With Arabians only about eight inches off the ground. He put his whole heart into it, but the best he could do was maybe a foot into the air. He never jumped to one side or the other or was dangerous, so when you got on Huckleberry Bey on a first-ride crow-hopping day, you’d just have to laugh and go along with his enthusiasm, since he thought he was doing a great job and he was quite happy to have you come along as well. It was Huck thinking that he was really putting on a show. Between me and Bill Haven, it was fun to see who could get on Huck first and go bouncing around (it really was like bouncing on a rubber ball). I never tried to make him stop, since the game was short-lived and he was really into it, having a great time.

It happened only after you hadn’t been on him in a while, and he never pulled it at a time when you didn’t want him to. The next time you got on him, he would go right to work. It was just his little bit of fun now and then, and we all thought it was cute as heck. (Bravado Bey V, who stands here now, is his father’s son when it comes to the crow-hopping first ride.)

The other thing Huck thought was cute, because he was so capable, was to stand up on his hind legs. But not in any way aggressive: He would just stand up on his hind legs and wander around.

I could reach up and tug on one of his hooves and say, “Huck, come on down here.”

No matter when he was up on two legs, wandering around like a dog looking over a fence, we both got the biggest kick out of it.

Sweet horse that Huckleberry Bey was, he never embarrassed me in public. Well, now that I think of it …

I was having an activity at the ranch, and at that time I didn’t have the show arena or the trees that I do now. We just had the front of the show barn for presenting horses.

I had very little help at the time, and I was hustling around, doing the talking and presenting the horses.

People were gathered in front of the show barn, and I had to run through the barn, jump on Huck, and dash around the end of the barn to give this demonstration on my English horse. Of course, I hadn’t been riding Huck lately

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because I’d been doing everything else. My agenda that day didn’t give him time to play around before we went to work, so we dashed around the barn, and I trotted right up in front of the people, stopped, and opened my mouth to give my wonderful statement. And Huck stood cheerfully up on his hind legs, looking around. There I am, standing in the stirrups, holding onto his mane so I won’t slide off his back, and trying to chat to my audience as if no one would notice. But the problem is, I’m tickled at his antics, and I’m laughing. “Sometimes when Huckleberry Bey …” I start, and he’s still standing there. The people are standing with their mouths open, wondering what is to happen next. Fortunately when he reared up, he was not erratic or aggressive. He just wandered around, and the people stood there, staring at him. When he was through, about five or six seconds later—which is a long time when you’re hanging onto the mane, standing in the stirrups on a horse who is walking upright—he came down to terra firma and I just said, “Sometimes my horse likes to play.” Then we went on with our seminar, and Huck was as happy as can be. He never took advantage of me and tried any of his bright ideas in the show ring, thank heavens.

In addition to showing Huckleberry Bey in halter and English pleasure, he and I also did liberty classes until the rules were changed to say that you could only carry a whip in the class and you couldn’t touch your horse. (I thought then and still do think that this encouraged poor horsemanship; a person’s touch should be positive for a horse). Huckleberry Bey had his own music, “Chariots of Fire,” which he became known by. If you remember, it opens with a herald of French horns, and then a resonating downbeat before going into an inspirational piano score. We would walk into the ring, Huck at my shoulder, very stately and wearing a halter with the tiniest string holding the halter together. He never shook his head or tried to bolt away, or did anything to suggest what was coming, but as that last downbeat sounded, I would pull the string and the halter would fall to the ground. Right on cue, Huck, who

A Lifetime With Arabians knew the game, would launch into the biggest, fanciest trot. Down the whole length of the ring before the crowd, he would go in his big, beautiful trot, head set in bridle position, having quite the good time. As the crowd really got into cheering, I could see that he would begin to get a little nervous with all the noise. He would come dashing back to me, his safety, and stand right beside me, aquiver with excitement, so I could touch him. As soon as my hand was on him, all my confidence flowed right through to him. I would cluck, and off he would go again. That touch is such security to a horse who has been handled as ours have. Unfortunately, the rules changed, and now you can’t touch your horse with your hands.

With a whip the only aid you could use, the liberty class lost its fun for me and my horses.

In 1976, when Huckleberry Bey was foaled, the Arabian industry in the United States was very focused on pure Polish or pure Russian or straight Egyptian horses. If it was going to be an English horse, everything was pure Polish, and at that time in the performance world, English horses were important and western horses were definitely not important. I had my own band of mares, and thank heavens I did, because those were the good mares that Huck got for the first 12 years of his life. Finally, by his last year as a breeding stallion, the Polish craze was ending. Bey Apertif V, Keepsake V, Hucklebey Berry, Huck’s Prowletta V, Afire Bey V, Desperado V and AA Apollo Bey had all started to attract attention, and suddenly people were flocking to Huckleberry Bey with their Polish mares. His stud fee was $7,500, and I remember being in Scottsdale, with people writing those $7,500 checks to us one after another.

Then the phone rang. It was Angela Alvarez, at home in Arroyo Grande. She had collected Huck before we’d left for Scottsdale, and there was something terribly wrong

with his semen. We got home to find that the gel extender was destroying his semen. That was our introduction to Cushing’s, and the signs, unfortunately, became more apparent as time went on. We got 56 mares in foal to him that year, but it took our watching him every moment.

Horses do everything in an order each day, and we were alert for even the smallest deviation. If he moved to a spot in his field at a different time of day than was normal, we noticed. That year, our lives rotated around Huckleberry Bey. Back then we didn’t have the ability to do for the disease what we do now. Huck finally died, much too young, at the age of 16, on December 27, 1992.

Remembering Huckleberry Bey, I have to smile. He was so darn cute. He was so cute in his personality and his expression that I finally had to train myself not to say to people, “Huck is so cute,” etc., etc. People don’t think of a major, numberone breeding stallion as “cute.” Huck was much more than cute, as everyone knows, but forever to me Huckleberry Bey was the darling, and he was just so darn cute. ■

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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