Cottonwood Stables, LLC


Baby Girl, our long time resident at Cottonwood


This page is inserted for the purpose of you getting to know me and how I became involved in horses. 


I was born and raised in Omaha, Nebraska.  The city was a great place to live at the time and that's what I was, a city girl.  My dad built our house on Fredrick Street and there is where we lived until after I graduated from South High School.  It was fun growing up in Omaha, but there were no horses in my life except for those prancing around in my dreams.

As a youngster I remember playing with my cousins quite often and hanging at their house; they lived down the street, a few blocks away.  Dinner time was usually spent in front of television.  The hardwood floors were a bit uncomfortable but it didn't matter much when the Mickey Mouse Club came on.  Our TV time included the western shows with John Wayne, my mom's favorite until Elvis Presley came along.  His all time western movie was "Flaming Star."

For me, I enjoyed Roy Rogers and Dale Evans. Dale's horse was named Buttermilk and Roy's horse was Trigger, both so beautiful. Not only could they ride but they could sing.  We all remember "Happy Trails to You."  I wanted to be a cowgirl too, but for now, I could only dream of owning my own horse.  I went on a few trail rides growing up but they just weren't the same as a real Dale Evans kind of ride.  The horses were slow and walked along in a very straight line.  They seemed to walk as though half asleep.  But, the feeling sitting in a saddle on this giant animal was powerful to me. 
My first real free spirit ride was with a black mare, bareback nonetheless.  She belonged to a neighbor and friend of my aunt and uncle.  My aunt, knowing how badly I wanted a chance to ride their horses, set up an agreement that if my cousins and I painted their white picket fence, we could ride.  That was the fastest we ever painted anything and our day of riding freely in the pasture finally came.  It was wonderful riding outside of an organized line and being able to go where we wanted in this small pasture area with an opening back to their stable.  Suddenly, the black mare I was riding took off on a fast jog back to the barn.  I've learned since then, that the term used for this bahavior is "Barn Sour."  I think I was more excited than afraid and just hung onto her mane. I noticed we were heading toward a short little fence and wasn't sure where she was going to go.  Now I'm afraid.  I shut my eyes and hung on.  In a short moment we flew in the air and came to a sudden stop.  I'm still holding on tight while she is peacefully eating some grain and left over grass. I will never forget her. So there you have it.  That was just the BEGINNING.