I enjoyed Golden Horse's journal SO MUCH that it gave me an idea to write one of my horse's journal. I SHAMELESSLY copied Golden Horse's style. I love it! Mine is not as good, but this is a tribute to Golden Horse--hey GH, if you ever need a job, think about being A WRITER!!!!
Hi, my real name is Isabel Memorable Paradise, but my family calls me Isabeau. There’s a story behind that barn name, but I’ll tell that later.
I was born in a fancy schmanzy Paso Fino horse breeding farm. In fact, my pedigree goes back more than six generations, or so my human mom says. She brags that if you google (whatever that is!) my sires back six generations; you will find videos of them winning grand championships, and world championships. That makes me very special . . . and I KNOW it! My human mom calls me a diva. I don’t know what a diva is, but I think it has something to do with diving down under the water, which doesn’t make any sense. Humans are SO WEIRD.
This is MarCopasos, my mom (Fabula)’s dad. He is currently Number 7 sire in the whole country. Some daddy, huh?!
Rescate de Ocho, MarCopaso’s dad
Rescate de Ocho
Memorable de la Luisa, my dad. He won reserve champion stallion in National competition with 102 show points. Some daddy, huh?
This is Memorable winning another championship—MY DAD!
This is Tataro del Encuentro, Memorable’s dad and my granddad
My mom has more pictures of my ancestors, but I told her, THAT’S ENOUGH OF THAT
The people at the Paso Fino farm bought my mom, La Fabula del Conde, to make babies, but she was still a baby herself. They were waiting for her to grow up and then she could marry the fancy stallion on their farm. But when my mom was still a baby herself, she had me!
I’m not SURE this is me, but we think it is. Nobody much remembers—it WAS 9 years ago.
Mom is smelling me, so maybe she didn’t always hate me, or maybe she got scared of me when I got up . . . or maybe it isn’t even me. But that’s the mark on my forehead so it probably is me.
Here is my bee-u-ti-fulllll birth mother. Hey, why didn’t I turn out like her! That’s not fair!
The people didn’t know that my mom was pregnant to Memorable de la Luisa. Apparently the people who owned Memorable didn’t know it either. But . . . there I was! I was their first baby and they were very proud of me. BUT . . . my mom was NOT proud of me. In fact, she didn’t like me, and she was scared of me. She kicked me every chance she got. She didn’t lick me or nuzzle me or take care of me. The humans on that farm (I don’t remember their names) tied up her hind leg and held her while I nursed. It was sad and no fun. The humans were busy and tired and sometimes didn’t go out to tie up Fable, which is what they called her. I got SO hungry. And Fable was so mean to me. I was so lonely and sad. I had an unhappy childhood. My human mom thinks that is why I am so small and do not look anything like Fable or Memorable . . . or any of my illustrious (how do you like THAT word!) ancestors. I wonder if my growing up sad and lonely is why my human mom calls me a diva, because it did feel like diving under water in those days.
I’m pretty sure this is me and my mom, though she looks kind of contented with me there, so maybe not. The mark on my forehead isn’t quite that big. But it does look a lot like me. Nobody remembers from back then.