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Made in the Stars, a Heart Horse Story

Made in the Stars was written by me, Julie Bradshaw, as a way to finally put down the whole story of my heart horse, or as I liked to say, soul mate Scout. He was the most remarkable horse I'd ever met and still is. I hope you enjoy. Some names have been changed for confidentiality purposes but everything else is completely true. Please tell me in the comments what you thought.

“My home is with you!” he said.  

I stopped dead in my tracks.  “What did he just say?” I thought.  “Wait, did I just hear that IN my head?”

Not only was it ridiculously bizarre that a horse just talked to me in my head, but I certainly wasn’t thinking about giving a horse a home when an acquaintance asked for me to meet him. 

Who is “him” you ask? He was a 12 year old, 17.2 hands high bay Dutch Warmblood gelding living at a boarding and training barn in Taylor, Texas.  I had gone to the facility that day simply to meet a woman who boarded her horses there.  She was interested in learning about one of the personal coaching services I offered.  

I had seen on Facebook that she had horses and was delighted at the thought of meeting them, so she invited me to the boarding barn.  I hadn’t owned or even been around horses in over 20 years and had thought they would never return to my life.  Taking in a horse wasn’t remotely on my life radar that hot June day in 2016.  

But he knew what he was doing.  

After meeting her horses and talking for a bit, the acquaintance Joan* said, “Hey would you come over and meet this other horse?  We think he might be a good therapy horse.” 

I thought she was asking because I had a son on the autism spectrum and had mentioned that I had considered riding therapy for him.  

The Meeting

We began to walk across the farm to a paddock that sat next to a large covered arena.  She shared with me on the walk that the horse lived with a Shetland pony that he was extremely attached to.  She said he had had a difficult first 10 years of his life as he had never been pastured, only stalled, by the breeder who foaled and raised him. 

I shook my head in dismay as that just sounded like terrible abuse to me for a horse.  She said it had resulted in extreme separation anxiety for him, with whoever his “best friend” horse happened to be.  At that moment in time it was a Shetland pony named Hobbes.

As we neared the paddock, this enormous bay gelding began to stride slowly, but purposefully, across the paddock towards us.  He was followed closely by a palomino pony. We went in and just as he came to a stop, he said it.  

“My home is with you!”

I was so shocked I simply said, well, nothing.  At least I said nothing out loud.  In my head, my thoughts were racing. “What?  What would I do with a horse?  Where would I put a horse?  I live in the suburbs, for crying out loud. Besides, I don’t even know if this horse NEEDS a home.  I’m just not going to say anything, because what if I just imagined it?” 

And then the enormous and gorgeous head of this Dutch Warmblood was gently shoved into my chest.  His head was longer than my torso on my 5’3” body, and for the most part his head stayed there.  I gently pulled repeatedly on his black forelock while he kept his face in my chest.  

He would not leave my side and kept returning to putting his face in my chest.  He did it so often that Joan finally took some pictures of us.  I was instantly enamored with this incredible soul that sought out such a seemingly intimate connection with me.  

Hobbes, the pony, started to pester me.  He was biting on me, and the strap of the black camera bag I was carrying, as if to say, “Hey, I’m here too! Pay attention to me!” And while I did pet him several times, it began to become difficult to escape him.  

But then the big bay gelding fussed at him, pinning his ears, thus telling him to move away from me.  And he began to position himself between me and Hobbes.  He wouldn’t let Hobbes get close to me anymore.  It was as if he could feel my frustration with the pony.  

Joan was shocked.  She said, “Usually he doesn’t let anybody get between him and Hobbes.” 

He had this tremendous energy that felt like a huge hug.  It just enveloped you and made you feel like you were the only person in the world.  Or at least that is the way it made me feel. I had never felt anything like it.  It was as if the love of his heart had just exploded onto and over me.  

My Home is With You

I didn’t want to leave.  But I had to and as I drove home, I still felt him around me.  It was like he was still hugging me.  On the way home, I was stopped at a red light and I sent a message to Joan thanking her for introducing me to him.  I expressed how incredible his energy was and that I could still feel it.  

And that’s when she said the words that caused my world to start spinning.  

She said, “Well, his owner is hoping to find a good home for him.” 

I said, “What?! Well, actually now that you say that, I have to tell you what happened.  You might think I’m crazy, but he told me in my head when we walked in his paddock that his home was with me.”

She excitedly replied, “Oh I am so glad he told you.  I felt it as soon as you drove up!” 

I giggled out loud.  Could this really be happening??  I drove home trying to imagine the possibilities.  

Later that night, she connected me with his owner, Celeste.  We met a few days later back at the paddock. 

Celeste shared that she had acquired Cocoa (what she called him) from the breeder at age 10 when he needed surgery for a keratoma that started in his knee and affected his lower leg from the knee down.  She had the surgery performed and rehabilitation done in hopes of his being a winning competition horse.  Cocoa had once been priced at $70,000 due to his breeding and training, she advised.  

Unfortunately, his separation anxiety was so extreme that he had bucked her from one end of the long covered arena to the other.  She said he was the scariest horse she had ever ridden and that he was unsafe for riding.  She had been trying for a long time to find a home for him but no one would take him.  

I had brought my young sons, ages 9 and 11 at the time, to meet him.  My oldest son with autism walked up to the paddock fence and turned around with his back to the fence.  Cocoa stuck his head over the fence and wrapped it around my son’s neck and chest.  At that moment, I knew he had been right all along.  His home WAS with me.  

And so despite not having owned a horse in over 20 years, despite not having one remote idea of where I might keep or what even to do with this horse, I exuberantly agreed to take him. 

Are You Sure You Want This Horse?

That night, as I was still reeling at the thought of owning a horse again, the name “Scout” popped into my head.  And from that moment forward, his name was Scout to me.  

With Joan’s help, I found a small boarding barn in the town I lived in that agreed to take him.  But they knew of him and his behavioral challenges and said I would be charged a significant amount extra per month just to house him there.  

My sons and I went to our local Dover Saddlery in Austin to buy grooming supplies.  I mentioned him and his owner Celeste to the cashier and excitedly shared I was getting him.  She said with a concerned look on her face,  “OH, you’re getting THAT horse?” and looked away quickly. 

Even with all that, I knew into the depths of my soul that I was supposed to have this horse.  I didn’t know why, but I knew without a doubt he was mine, and I was his.  

Two weeks after first meeting him, I went back to be there when he was loaded up in Celeste’s trailer to haul him to the new boarding barn.  I arrived early just to spend some time with him.  I put his new jewel-tone purple halter and matching lead rope on him and we walked out of the paddock so that he could graze near the arena while we waited for Celeste.  

He never even looked back at Hobbes.  

When Celeste was ready, we walked together to the front of the property, making our way across the farm to the straight load 2 horse trailer. He had not an ounce of “buddy sourness” for Hobbes.  Celeste expressed shock that he was absolutely calm and never gave Hobbes a second look.  He walked straight into the Warmblood sized trailer and waited calmly for us to close the gate.  

We arrived at the new facility and I took him to a large paddock where he was initially alone but other horses were nearby.  He paced the fenceline until he was dripping with sweat.  It would be the beginning of what would become countless hours I spent watching him pace fences.  

As I stood there watching him that day, the barn’s trainer and lesson instructor came and stood with me for a bit and she said, “Julie, are you sure THIS is the first horse you want to start back with? There are a lot of easier horses out there.” 

And I told her the words that really could only have come straight from my heart, “I don’t know why, but this horse and I belong together.  It doesn’t make sense but we are meant to be.”

Dissociation

I spent time with him every day that I could get there.   I ran a business and had two young kids as a single parent, so there were a few days I couldn’t make it.  Having a horse again was a complete adjustment and turned my life upside down in many ways.    

After several days though he had calmed down and had acquired a pasture mate, a senior mare named Star that he had made friends with over the fence.  The barn owner and trainer felt like they would be a good fit for each other, and Star’s owner agreed to have them live together.  

One day about 2 weeks after he first arrived at the barn, I pulled in and didn’t see him in his paddock which I thought was odd.  I walked into the barn and I passed a horse that was in a stall.  It was a bay horse but it was in a strange stupor.  It was completely zoned out and I didn’t even realize at first that it was Scout.  

I went into the stall with him and he didn’t even acknowledge me.  It was as if he had been drugged.  I stayed in there for a bit wondering what to do.  I had never seen a horse like this and was worried something was wrong with him.  I texted the trainer and she said nothing was wrong with him.  I don’t even remember the reason they had put him in there.  But I put his halter and lead rope on him and walked him out of that stall.  

And it was as if his soul suddenly jumped back in his body and he came alive again.  He nuzzled me hello and when we walked out of the barn into his paddock, he was my Scout again.  

I knew then that he thought of barns and stalls as prison, dare I say hell, because that is where he had spent the first 10 years of his life.  I promised him right then and there that I would never lock him in a stall again for the rest of his life unless he was ok with it. 

To this day, and many horses later, I’ve never seen a horse become utterly disassociated like he did that day.  That is what trauma will do to a brain. 

Another Home

After only a month at this boarding barn, things became very dramatic between the trainer and barn owner and I was asked to do some things I wasn't comfortable with.  I decided that it would be best if I found another boarding barn.  I found a young woman that boarded much closer to my home and that had plenty of pasture for a horse like Scout that wanted nothing to do with stalls.  

She too had heard of Scout and his excessive behavior but was willing to give him, and me, a try.  

On the day we left, Scout initially didn’t want to leave Star, his pasture mate friend, but we got him loaded up. I had walked away from the trailer and he began to whinny frantically.  I walked back up to the trailer and he stopped.  The trainer was amazed that he wasn’t calling for Star, but rather for me.  

We arrived at the new farm and Scout got to go live in a very large pasture with a couple of other horses, a black mare missing one eye and a younger Palomino gelding.  He didn’t really pair up with either of them right away.  But shortly after he moved in, I walked him out of the pasture and he began to panic about being away from his new friends.  He was circling me, pacing, and calling.  

The barn owner told me, “Julie, if you can’t get his behavior under control, you will have to find a new barn.” And so began my quest to try and rid Scout of his separation anxiety. Little did I know how much it would change not only him, but me.

The Learning Process and a Heart Horse Story Begins

I began to research horse trainers that specialized in anxious horses.  I read books, I watched YouTube videos.  The barn owner gave me tips.  I tried supplements.  I was patient, and truthfully some days I lost that patience.  I pleaded and cajoled.  I practiced going into the barn with him just one step at a time.  I walked into the open stall with cross ties and worked on getting him relaxed while cross-tied in the barn.  I took him into the wash area.  We attempted and sometimes succeeded at walking around the property away from the other horses in slow increments.   

But more than anything else, I spent time with him in the pasture.  I spent hour upon hour with him walking around grazing.  I took a chair into the pasture and I sat while he napped over me, or stood with his head sitting on top of mine.  He would keep the other horses away from me if they came near.  I was his and he was mine.  Not being able to ride him never even crossed my mind.  I was just so incredibly happy to have him in my life.  

I took a ridiculous amount of selfies because this magnificent creature that no one else wanted, that some were even scared of, made me feel special and magical and like I was living in a real life fairy tale.  He was kind and loving and compassionate and I was different when I was with him.  

A New Friend

About 8 months after bringing Scout home, Celeste texted me one day and asked if I would be interested in another horse that wasn’t working out for her.  He was an OTTB that had left the track, and then ridden in fox hunting, before coming to her.  He was turning up lame at times with no real reason.  He had no real issues other than the random lameness and she wondered if I might be interested in him. 

And that was the beginning of many more horses coming to live with me.  Jester was a wonderful horse and became Scout’s new best friend over time.   

Total Eclipse of the Heart Horse Story

In August of 2017, about a year after we had been at this barn, we had a total solar eclipse.  I took a chair and went to sit in the shade of a large tree to wait for the eclipse.  That day brought great change as eclipses often do.  Primarily, it brought what became Scout’s signature move.  As I sat in the green lawn chair, Scout and Jester came to stand under the tree with me. 

A few minutes later, Scout came and stood in front of me and picked up his front right leg.  He placed his bent knee in my lap.  I scratched and rubbed on his leg for a bit.  Then he moved forward a few steps and placed his back leg in my lap.  So, I scratched and rubbed it as well.  He proceeded to do all 4 legs this way, one by one.  And from that point forward he would always lift one of his front legs to me and if I were sitting down, he would put the entire knee in my lap. 

I inquired of other horse owners and asked in Facebook groups, but no one had ever heard of a horse doing such a thing.  He eventually came to do it with a few other people as well, but only people he really liked and trusted.  It was a sign of affection really.  

I took countless pictures of him and began to tell stories about him and our experiences together.  One day I got a message from someone that lived in a different state and she said, “I have to tell you that I saw a picture of Scout and just started crying.  And I felt better after I cried.  I don’t understand why that happened.  I’ve never had anything like that happen.  Can you explain it to me?” 

I shared only what I knew, that he had a magical effect on people, and that he was special in a way I had a hard time explaining.  

And then it happened again.  And again.  More people were getting a spontaneous healing of sorts just from seeing his pictures.

I realized that Scout not only had a magical effect on me, he also had it on others.  

And Yet Another Home

Over the course of about the first 2 years of having Scout, then Jester the OTTB, and then Mage, a young Morgan gelding, I boarded in 4 different places.  It almost seemed as if each one was worse than the one before it, with my horses being neglected, barn managers becoming unstable, and my tack being stolen.  I finally reached my limit and through a friend of a friend, was fortunate enough to find 20 acres of land to lease just a few minutes from my house. 

And thus began my taking full control of my horses’ care.  It was a greater responsibility in many ways than boarding, but it meant I didn’t have to worry about my horses or tack anymore.  And I could develop my relationship with Scout even more.  

Once we were settled in, I began to host individuals and groups for what I called equine-led coaching.  And Scout was always the star of the show.  He just had a star quality that attracted everyone who came across him.  It was as if he had a built-in magnet that lured people in.  And once in range, he loved them like they had never been loved before.  I would guide people according to his behavior in response to them.  I knew him so well that his behavior would show me what he wanted them to know.  And he was always completely accurate.  People would visit from both Texas and out of state just to spend time with him and get his guidance.  

Whether stranger or known, everyone who saw us together knew we had a special bond.  The land had frequent walkers, joggers, and cyclists going by and many would stop to say hello.  Every person that stopped would comment on the connection we obviously had.  

My behavioral training to help him with his separation anxiety did work to a certain level.  He learned to walk through the open barns where we boarded. He was eventually able to go into the old barn that was on the 20-acre property.   I never stopped trying to get him relief from his anxiety.  But no matter what I did or tried, it never went away completely.   And unfortunately it imprisoned whoever he chose his “best friend” to be.  So, it wasn’t just me or him affected, it was the other horses I had as well.  

Inspiration to Live or Made in the Stars

Through the years, I experienced a multitude of personal challenges.  Not only did my son’s autism regress when puberty hit, but I was hit with so many unending life challenges that people asked me many times if I was cursed.  

And through it all, even though at times I just wanted my life to be over as it seemed like the only possible relief from the relentless challenges, what kept me living was Scout.  I could not leave him.  I was committed to him. There was no one that could or would take care of him like I did.  I feared that if I left, that his life would come to an end too, or he would be abused all over again.  

And so every day, I went back. Every day I let him hug me with his energy, and let him put his knee in my lap. Every day I tried to free him of HIS anxiety from the trauma HE had endured. 

I remember one day I had tried walking him out into a separate pasture, away from the other horses.  Every once in a while I could convince him it was safe to do so.  It was such a joy to be able to walk alone with him on those rare days his brain didn’t tell him he was going to die if he didn’t have his best friend with him. 

But on this day, eventually his brain told him he wasn’t safe.  He panicked and when he did he accidentally hit me in the head with his large head.  And instead of continuing to panic, he stopped for just a brief moment to make sure I was ok.  And then when he knew I wasn’t hurt, he went back to panicking.  That moment epitomized Scout.  He loved me no matter what.  He just couldn’t get past his fear of being away from the other horses.

And as much as I loved him, it broke my heart in pieces to know I would never have all of him.  All because someone kept him in a stall for the first 10 years of his life. 

After 3 ½ years, I had decided to simply treasure every moment that I could with him that he felt at peace.  I knew he would never be whole.  He had started to lose a little weight and no amount of diet changes would return him to a healthy weight.  

Riding in the Stars

But one day we were standing next to the barn, and he was in a full state of peace and the way he moved himself next to me made me think he was inviting me to ride him.  Although I had always been fine with the thought of not riding him, a little part of me hoped that one day I might actually do it.  

I went and got my saddle pad and my black Wintec All-Purpose saddle, girth and stirrups and he stayed still the entire time.  I attached some reins to his rope halter, tossed them over his head, put on my purple riding helmet, and stepped up the black 3-step mounting block next to him.  He continued to stand perfectly still.

I leaned over him, and there were no signs of anxiety.  I put my foot in the stirrup and still there was only relaxation.  I went for it. I swung my leg over him and suddenly, that little part of me that wondered if I might ever have the gift of riding him, was singing.  And not just a soft singing, it was a full blown chorus line of singing.  

And as we rode around the pasture that day, experiencing an all new part to this relationship that was made in the stars, he did not buck.  He did not crow hop or show any signs of my being at risk.  He took care of me like I had always taken care of him.  

I rode him two more times in the next month but that day was his true gift to me.  It was his thank you for never giving up on him.  

His health and mental state continued to deteriorate over the next few months, even after discussions with the vet and making adjustments, doing some lab work, and making adjustments.  We reviewed all the possibilities.  I told my vet that it almost seemed like he had Alzheimer’s or dementia based on his behavior at the time.  And one day, he showed aggression to me.  I knew what decision I had to make that day.  Because in all the hours upon hours of training and panic and anxiety, he had never once showed anger toward me.  I knew that he was neurologically and physically deteriorating and his quality of life was suffering.  

Magic Begins and Ends

I made that horrifying call to my vet and set the appointment for her and her husband to come two weeks later. Around the same time, I agreed to take in a feral Peruvian Paso mare.  I only had one other horse at the time, a rescued Palomino half Arab/half Paint stallion.  I think the Universe knew that I might have given up on horses entirely if a mare named Magic hadn’t needed me right then.  But I think Scout knew it too.  

The two weeks until the appointment gave me time to say goodbye. He put his leg in my lap, and in my sons’ lap, and he shared breath with me over and over..  He set his head on top of mine as he had done so many, many times.  As for me, I cried.  I cried at the unfairness of it all.  I cried at only having him a few years when I hoped to have him for many years. I cried at not being able to save him.  I cried for the stress I had endured in trying to save him.  I cried for the horses he had forced to be his best friend and for their inability to have peace with him there.  Because at his very essence, he WAS peace.  And he had brought ME and many others so much peace.  It all seemed so ridiculously contradictory. 

Two weeks later, on that no good, terrible bad day that I said goodbye, the vet said, “You did the right thing.  You set him free.”  Why did I feel so imprisoned then?  Imprisoned with grief over losing the only soul mate I’d ever had, and only having him a few short years at that.  Who knew a soul mate might be a horse and not a human? 

Two days later, that rescued Palomino stallion kicked me to get away from me and to get to Magic, the new mare.  She put a “spell” on him apparently as he had been around other mares and showed no signs of aggression or “typical” stallion behavior.  That kick broke my collarbone requiring surgery, collapsed my lung and fractured several ribs.  I spent five days in critical care and it took me months to recover fully.  

A New Heart Horse Story

But 11 months later on February 27th, 2022, I welcomed Fyre, a golden Palomino colt, to my herd when Magic gave birth. When he was about a year old, he lifted his leg and put it in my lap for the very first time. Maybe I have a new heart horse story now.

The greatest teacher I ever had was a horse named Scout.  He taught me that magic is real, compassion always wins, and that life is worth living even when it seems cruel and unforgiving.  He taught me that while it seems some things are not fixable or in the least bit fair, there is always, always a gift hidden in those things.  It may just take some time before you see the gift.  In my case, it took 11 months. 

*All names, except mine, Jester’s, Fyre’s and Scout’s, changed for confidentiality purposes.

All photos copyrighted to Julie Bradshaw. Some photos taken by artist Stacey Lizette.