As a practicing veterinarian of nearly four decades, I can honestly say that I have only had the pleasure of meeting a couple of true horsemen. Those uncanny men and women who understand what makes a horse tick, and have the ability to allow the horse to become all they can be. They see potential in every horse and through patient training and enduring patience each horse blooms. These great horsemen never force a horse into a job they are not naturally suited for. The results are simply beyond amazing. Jan Sharp is one of those with this gift. Her book, “Darken: The Scaredy-Cat Champion”, captures her gift in a wonderful true story about a horse that was going to do it his way. Her experience, wisdom, and innate sixth sense for horses allowed this spirited underdog to come out on top. This is not simply a horse story. It is an essay about life. All who read it will come away refreshed and enriched. – Charles A. Curie DVM
“DARKEN: The Scaredy-Cat Champion” is sure to strike a familiar chord with parents and adolescents alike who sometimes struggle to fit in and make a difference. Darken’s early challenges place him in a unique and special category that children and adults with special needs can quickly identify with. This is a must read for any parent or teen. Jan Sharp’s wonderful and unparalleled observations will help those of us on the outside wanting to help a child or adult with special needs.” - Linda Myers, MA, LICDC, LPC, EAGALA Advanced.
What Others Are Saying
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Author Bio
Copyright
Photography Credits
I never met the man in person, but Roy Rogers changed my life. Watching Roy and his palomino horse, Trigger, on the silver screen, put me on the path to training my own trick horses for over forty years. In all those years, I thought I’d gotten pretty good at what I do. However, in every trainer’s life, a horse comes along that will try his patience, a square peg that refuses to be put into a round hole. This is the true story of such a horse. Ride along and share the five-year journey by which a scaredy-cat colt found not only his own path in life, but how he could use his talents to help others. Climb aboard, hold on tight, and enjoy the ride. – Jan Sharp
Expecting this to be just another quick peek inside the barn, I didn’t even bother to put on socks, but slipped into an old pair of sneakers and ran out into the frosty darkness. For the past week, I’d made the short trip from house to barn every few hours around the clock. My best mare was due to foal any day. This was going to be her first foaling, and I wanted to be there to make sure her transition into motherhood went smoothly. Not only was she a very special mare, but the foal she was carrying had the potential to become a star – one of those once in a life time colts.
Her foal descended from royal blood and great things were expected of it. Its sire was a stunning black purebred Arabian with an impressive show record and pedigree, well known for siring champion offspring. Its mother was a black and white pinto Half Arabian/Half Saddlebred, a combination of two different breeds; each bloodline containing multiple show champions. By the time she was two years old, I had already shown her to a Pinto World Championship. How could the blending of these bloodlines and my training skills fail to produce a winner? Surely it was written in the stars.
Not wanting to wake up the whole barn, I would flip on a single light by the mare’s stall. She would look up at me with blinking eyes. Each time was the same. I’d expectantly look at her and she’d calmly look back at me, often with a bite of hay in her mouth, wondering why I was there in the middle of the night, again.
This time was different. As I walked into the barn, she wasn’t looking at me, but was intent on something lying in a heap at her front feet. Her foal had just been born, still wet, with long legs that sprawled in every direction. It flopped around in the fresh straw on his elbows, trying to get its front legs untangled, trying to stand, while still barely able to lift its head. The foal, a colt, lay inches from her hooves and bumped his little domed head against her knees. She looked a bit puzzled as to just what he might be, sniffing first his head, then his tail. She stood transfixed, unable to take her soft brown eyes off him. Then she did what all mares do when they see their foals for the first time; she nickered to him in that special deep nicker reserved for just that one moment. The baby answered her back. That was all it took for the mare to accept and fall in love with him, and so did I.
It was early April, but the night air was still cold in northeastern Ohio and he was shivering. As I towel-dried his small unsteady body and admired his cute little face, he poked his nose out and tried to catch anything he could with his pink tongue. When he found my fingers, he latched on and sucked on them with determination. I’d seen dozens of foals born and it always amazed me how they were all born hard-wired to immediately look for food. He lay stretched out across my lap and sucked on my chin with toothless gums while his fuzzy foal whiskers tickled my face. Compared to the frosty night air, his mouth was hot and his jaws, looking for a meal, grabbed and pulled at my clothes like a pair of pliers.
I gathered him up in my arms and gave him a big hug. Not only was his coat soft as velvet, but I could practically feel the potential in him, just waiting to be discovered. He was smaller than average, his back a mere six inches wide. It was hard to imagine him ever being big enough to ride. I had begun making plans for him long before he was even born. In those eleven months from conception to birth, I had plenty of time to envision all the adventures he and I were going to share. He was going to be my future show horse, a champion in the making for sure.
I was overjoyed that this foal had inherited his mother’s black and white spotted coat. He was mostly black, but on his left side, he had white markings; one shaped like a western boot, another like a pair of elk antlers, and a perfect little white square near his elbow that everyone said looked like a postage stamp. On his right shoulder was a large white marking, extending from his withers to below his elbow that looked exactly like a sea horse. He had four high white stockings, a small star on his forehead, and a snip of white on his nose. Just above his tail, was a marking that looked like a perfect pair of wings spread open for flight. It reminded me of an old proverb familiar to all Arabian horse owners…“When God created the horse he said to the magnificent creature: I have made thee as no other. All the treasures of the earth lie between thy eyes. Thou shalt carry my friends upon thy back. Thy saddle shall be the seat of prayers to me. And thou shalt fly without wings, and conquer without any sword; oh horse.” – Bedouin legend. I should have taken it as a warning. If horses can fly without wings, just how fast would they go with them?
He had a beautiful Arabian head and smooth body. I cupped one of his small wet ears in the palm of my hand. He was so new that his ears had not uncurled yet. What a privilege to have a front row seat to watch him unfold and discover himself. I couldn’t have been happier…until he stood up.
It’s not unusual for the legs of newborn foals to at first appear crooked. Because of the narrowness of their chests, many foals’ front legs might toe out or appear to be knock-kneed, but as they fill out and grow, their legs normally will straighten up. It’s also common that they might have weak flexor tendons which allow the toes of their hooves to tip up, especially in the rear legs. This colt had such weak tendons in his pasterns that when standing in front of him, you could see the bottoms of all four of his feet. As most of these foals grow and get stronger, their tendons strengthen and the problem usually corrects itself. I didn’t worry about him; he just needed more time to grow.
He was still less than one hour old, but I already had his whole life planned out. This was the colt that was going to fulfill all of my dreams. Horsemen have been dreaming that same dream from the day man first discovered just how valuable horses were - for work, war, sport, and more recently, just for pleasure and companionship. It’s the chasing of that dream that keeps man striving to breed that perfect horse.
My perfect horse has always been the Half Arabian tobiano-patterned pinto, which combines the beauty of the Arabian with the splashy white color pattern of the pinto. Pintos come in all base colors, from light to dark and with few spots or many, but my favorite has always been the black and white. Pintos come in basically two color patterns, the overo and the tobiano. Purebred Arabians do not come in the tobiano pattern, where the white coloring crosses somewhere over the horse’s back or neck, so they must be outcrossed to a breed that does. Half Arabian tobiano pintos are horses which have one solid-colored purebred Arabian parent and the other parent, often a Paint, Saddlebred, or Half Arabian, who is a tobiano pinto. The resulting foal carries not only the look of the Arabian, but, hopefully, also inherits the pinto pattern from its pinto parent. This allows the foal to be registered in both the Half Arabian and Pinto registries. With this new foal, my wish for both black and spots had been granted.
The colt needed a name. His mother’s official registered name was Spot N The Dark, but her barn name was Spotty. (I know, how original for a pinto horse.) She was nick-named for a small white star that stood out on her otherwise all black head. When she was a foal herself, in the pasture at night I would often see just her small white star, practically glowing, in the dark of her face. Her colt’s registered name would be Darker N Bey, but his barn name became Darken, because of his mostly dark color. On days when he was being quirky, “The Black Fox” seemed to fit him better. His devilish little black ears, poking up from the wisps of his sparse little colt mane, were a forewarning of days to come.
When I was born, my parents already had a family horse named Lucky. He was a bay pinto gelding and was, most likely, part Saddlebred although we never knew for sure. He was tall, narrow and very regal. I learned to ride on, perhaps not-so-lucky, Lucky. My dad built a contraption in the pasture that was much like the metal ring pony-ride ponies are attached to at the fair. I could ride to my delight, while Lucky was attached to a stationary revolving ring. I spent many an hour riding around and around that circle pretending I was a great rider having daring adventures. While she washed dishes, my mother kept an eye on me from her vantage point at the kitchen window. Lucky was smart enough to mostly walk, and walk very slowly. If I worked hard enough, he might manage a slow trot for a few steps. He knew which side his bread was buttered on and he wisely took care of me. Lucky only had one fault; whenever anyone rode him outside of my little ring, no matter who they were or where they were, when he’d had enough, he went home, and he didn’t stop until his nose touched the barn door. Lucky was one smart old horse; he constantly proved it by outsmarting all the kids in our neighborhood and many of their parents, who were sure they could cure him of this vice. No one ever did.
At age seven, I got my own pony. My parents paid fifty dollars for him. Apparently, no one had ever taken the time to handle him and he was terrified of us. I gave the pitiful thing the regal name of King. I have no idea why any parent would buy such a wild pony for a child, but my parents didn’t seem the least bit concerned about it at the time. Under our care, King flourished and quickly grew into his name. Like Lucky, King was also a pinto. I trained him to be ridden and he, in turn, taught me how to ride better. Ponies are very good at teaching little girls how to ride, and I often had the lumps and bumps to prove it.
Soon I discovered that there was a horse show grounds not far from my neighborhood. One visit to a show and I knew my destiny. No longer content to watch others, I wanted to show my own pony in the worst way. My parents were not horse show parents; they were barely horse people at all. They used Lucky to cultivate their garden and my brother and sister used him to deliver newspapers. I was the only one in the family interested in horse shows. Always frugal with their money, there was to be no riding lessons, no trainer, and no fancy “made” show horse. I had to make do with what I had or do without. If I wanted to go to the show, I’d have to ride my pony there and carry everything I needed for the day. I must have looked quite a sight. I wouldn’t have a horse trailer until after I was married. If I wanted to learn more about horses and showing, I’d have to learn it myself. I read every horse book in the library and practiced countless hours until King and I began winning ribbons. We had many great years and adventures together before I sadly outgrew him.
When I was fourteen, a friend bought a mare which had a six month old Half Arabian colt by her side. My friend wanted the mare, but had no need of the colt. So, she made a horse crazy teenage girl’s dream come true and asked my parents if I would be interested in the colt. I didn’t actually hear the exact conversation because the colt was to be a surprise for me. A few days later, she drove into our driveway with her red horse trailer. She opened the trailer’s back door and out bolted a fuzzy spotted colt. He hit the end of the lariat around his neck and fell down in our front yard. Obviously, he hadn’t had much handling, but I didn’t care. I fell in love with him on the spot. The colt’s name was Rickmar Farharin. He was Half Arabian by breed and, like both Lucky and King, a pinto by color pattern.
A neighbor stopped by to visit my parents a few days after I got Farharin. My mother said, “Tell him what you just got.” and I said, “I got a colt.” The neighbor said, “A coat?” and I said a little louder and a little clearer, “A COLT.” That must have been an important moment to me because I can still see it clearly in my mind’s eye. I remember sitting at the kitchen table wearing my pajamas because I had stayed home from school sick. I guess my stuffed-up nose made my voice sound funny so that when I said “colt”, my neighbor heard “coat”.
Odd the things we remember. I understand remembering the big events in our lives, but wonder why a misunderstanding of the words “colt” and “coat” should be saved in my memory banks for so long. Apparently, having my own colt to train, all by myself, was a bigger event in my life than I realized at the time.
Since Faharin was three years away from being old enough to ride, I spent that time trying to teach him tricks. On TV, I had seen the western movie star, Roy Rogers and his famous palomino trick horse Trigger; I tried to teach my horse some of Trigger’s tricks. At that time, there were no books on how to train a trick horse. Videos hadn’t even been invented yet, and like a magician, if any trainers did know how to teach a horse tricks, they were not about to share their secrets. At first, I had no idea what I was doing, but as I learned how to train Faharin through trial and error, I began to learn what worked and what didn’t.
By this time we had other horses on my parents’ farm, but they were just horses. Faharin was special because he was more responsive, quicker to learn, and a more willing partner. The more tricks I taught him, the better he became at everything. He was far from being Trigger, billed as the “Smartest Horse in the Movies” who had learned more than sixty tricks, but I began seeing positive results. I also discovered that the training helped us develop a closer bond and better communication. We became as one, moving and flowing together using an unseen body language, as he willingly responded to my cues.
Faharin became a respectable trick horse, a champion show horse, and most importantly, my best friend. He was in my first wedding, stuck with me when my first husband didn’t, and helped me raise my son, Shawn. He was with me when I met my second husband and even pulled the carriage at our wedding. His purchase price was very little, but the companionship, loyalty, and lessons he taught me were priceless. Faharin spent twenty one years with me and is buried in a place of honor on my farm.
With each new horse I trained, I learned more and more of the benefits of trick training. It is a unique way to train horses where they are given positive rewards for making correct responses. When done correctly, trick training is fun for both horse and handler. Each trick starts out as a simple request for the horse to respond to something I want him to do. He must never “jump the gun” and perform a trick without first being asked to do so. When he responds correctly, he is praised and rewarded. The wrong response is simply ignored rather than being punished, as many common training methods still use today.
Each trick has several parts and each one has great benefits to the horse. In learning how to stand on a pedestal, he must first learn to step onto it, then stop and balance himself, and finally step off when told. I set the horse up for success by starting with a large low box that is easy for him to stand on. Once he masters that, I use different-sized pedestals to gradually reduce the pedestal’s size and increase its height, thus increasing the difficulty of the trick. The learning of just this one simple trick goes a long ways towards teaching a horse obedience, confidence, balance, self-control, relaxation, and patience. These things are very important to all horses; no matter what their discipline. Even if your interest is only trail riding, time spent working with your horse to be more obedient and responsive to your aids is well worth the effort.
I really don’t need another horse who knows how to stand on a pedestal but I do need one who is obedient to my cue to step up when asked. A horse who obeys the “step up” cue will never be a problem loading into a trailer or crossing a trail bridge.
Horses learn faster if there is something in it for them. In the beginning of their training, I give them small tidbits of food for making the correct response to my cues. As they begin to master a certain trick, I gradually reduce their rewards until they are getting a treat every other time, then every third time, and so on until it is eventually phased out entirely. Of course, even an advanced trick horse always appreciates a reward at the end of each training session. That reward might be a small food treat, a good scratching of his itchy spots, or a gentle pat on his forehead and a kind word. At this point the horse is working for you entirely because he wants to. It’s this instilling of wanting to that makes trick training so beneficial. What rider doesn’t want a horse who works for him because he wants to, not because he has to? Through consistent handling, fair treatment, repetition, patience, practice, and positive reinforcement, you can teach a horse to do amazing things.
As time went on, I learned that I could also use my horses to benefit other people. Even though we lived in a rural area, many children knew little about horses; in fact, many had never even touched a horse. Thus began my children’s programs. I began to use my trick horses in a unique way to both entertain and teach kids about horses. Since several of my horses were rescues, they gave me the opportunity to teach kids how to care for and be kind to all animals, as well as how to recognize abuse and prevent neglect.
In time, my trick horses received invitations from all over the country to perform for groups and charity events. After each performance, we would always have a question and answer period. It never ceased to amaze me how children were always most interested in the horses’ teeth and horse shoes. I guess it is something that they rarely get to see, especially if their only contact with horses is through their television set.
My goal, as a youth, was always to become famous in the horse world. As it turned out, a number of my horses did become very well known. While many of them had outstanding show careers, it was their tricks that made them stars. My most well-known horse to this point, TS Black Tie Affair, was a black and white Half Arabian pinto stallion I had shown and used in my trick act for over twenty years. In addition to being a trick horse, he earned many world championships, special awards, and was even honored by having a model toy horse made in his likeness. I, on the other hand, am known as Black Tie’s mother. Well at least I am known for something!
Over the years, I climbed the horse show ladder from the bottom rung all the way up to the national level. I trained and exhibited my own horses to twenty-eight world and reserve world championships, always on a budget and always doing everything myself. It wasn’t always easy, but it can be done if you want it badly enough.
I have trained dozens of trick horses, selling most and keeping some to show and exhibit myself. The ones I sold went to farms all over the country. At the time Darken was born, I had a whole barn full of horses that I used to show and most of them also performed in my trick horse act. I expected Darken to easily follow in his mother’s hoof prints. Spotty was not only a world champion show horse, but an exceptional trick horse as well. She entertained and educated hundreds of children in her lifetime. Many a child’s first horse experience was tentatively touching the end of her soft muzzle with one small, outstretched finger. Darken was going to be even better than she was. At least, that was the plan.