This is a tale of a mare who came to me with no name and no history. Not knowing if she was broke I willingly took her on Halloween of 2010, it was raining in Independence Louisiana.
I woke to thunder and lightning on Halloween morning, rushing out to the fields to gather the horses, the horses came willingly except for the unnamed mare. I fought to halter her and bring her in, after almost an hour in the rain she gave up and decided to come with me. After drying everyone off and feeding breakfast I stood at the stall of this mare and thought that is was a nightmare trying to catch her, her name became Nightmare.
Funny thing was after that stormy day she was easy to work with, I rode her a few times with no problems and I was starting to second guess the name I picked for her, I tried going out to the field and call her different names other then Nightmare with no response, the . name grew on her and I think she liked it. I kept her for awhile thinking that she was a black with white hairs through her coat, Spring hit around March and she started turning Bay, weird I know even stalled during the day and turned out at night she continued to lighten up.
Summer came and she was Chestnut, not dark Chestnut but a light sable color. I was called to help plan for a haunted trail ride to happen from the end of August to the end of October so my mind went through and was running at full speed. September hit and Nightmare started getting dark again, by August she was almost black again. The last week of August came and with that I became the Headless Horsemen and my trusty stead Nightmare under saddle from the last week of August to Halloween (2011) me and Nightmare scared and entertained many who traveled many miles to the haunted trails.
This unfazed, completely bomb proof mare had made a name for herself as the greatest Halloween horse ever. The promoter of the haunted trails still uses her today for pony rides and the trails from as early as September to as late at December. I don't ride her anymore but my little brother has become the Headless Horseman and carries out the tradition for me.
Now you can't always judge a book by their cover, no matter how much of a pain in the butt they were because if you tend to name on first impressions the name might stick and then you'll have a Nightmare of your own. I tend to tell this story of the unnamed mare and looking at the picture of me and her for this article you couldn't tell that when she came in no one knew if she was ever worked with let alone broke to ride.