My Horse

By RWC Resident Harriet D.

(Reprinted with permission by “Our Neighborhood,” a resident story newsletter)

His name was Sampson. He was a gorgeous, shiny deep brown color with an interesting white face, stunning strong legs with white socks, and a flowing black tail and mane. He was two years old when a young girl of about 14 and her father, bought Sampson from a man in South Carolina for $200.

Sampson had no pedigree, no papers, no training, and was a gelding. He had beautiful eyes…you know, the kind that just cause you to melt.

Sampson entered a training program in Albemarle, NC, and one day the girl and her father got the call to “come and see.”

Another purchase made on the same day as Sampson, was also in training and she came out of the stall first…a pretty little palomino that performed well and appeared to a good purchase.

And then the trainer said, “Get ready…here comes Sampson.”

Oh my! Head held high, chest strong, eyes blazing, ears totally alert, and legs…oh those legs prancing with authority. This was no ordinary Sampson – this was Mighty Sampson.

The girl’s challenge came next. She needed to learn how to maximize this magnificent creature’s gifts and talents. And so the joy began. Day after day they went to work and got to know each other, to trust each other. She learned his habits, his signals and he learned hers.

Born a natural competitor, Sampson’s entrance into competitions was an easy one for he loved to win, he loved to perform, he loved to “wow” the spectators.

Winning area and regional show after show, it was suggested he perform in the North Carolina State Show. And he did…oh my, did he! He was the North Carolina Three-Gaited Natural Tail Champion three years in a row. And later, he placed third and fourth two years in a row, respectively, at the World’s Show in Louisville, Kentucky.

He was amazing and he knew it. He loved the lights and the applause and knowing he was the best. And yet, he still loved the country trails, the afternoon backrubs and brushings, the counseling sessions with the young girl.

He lived a long life and is buried under an oak tree in Pee Dee. He never had any papers, his blood line was never discovered, but he was a champion.

He was Mighty Sampson…and he was mine!

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