The book made me part of her wonderful story. I have always wanted to live in the country. As a city girl this book really felt I am there. I love horses. The book brings out the special bond between humans and their four legged companions. My friends loved it too. If you love animals, this book is a must read. -Amazon Review
The true autobiography of a determined woman who dared to live her dream.
Join Cynthia on a rollercoaster ride through the dark valleys to ecstatic heights. Tears of sorrow to tears of fulfilled joy. A real gem. A fast and heartfelt read.
“The author chronicles her transformation from a woman who sold her grandmother’s silver to afford her first horse (an Arabian gelding named Ivanhoe) into a full-time horse breeder in sharp, simple prose.” -Kirkus Reviews
Part of Prologue
My mother was on the phone talking to Orville, the groundskeeper at Crowndale Farm. Mona, her stolen Thoroughbred, had foaled in the night. It was Easter Sunday of my ninth year on the earth. My mother’s face looked grim. Her voice was solemn. “Then I guess you’ll have to destroy it.” My heart suddenly began to explode against my thin chest.
“Destroy what? What is Orville going to destroy!?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“What is he going to destroy!!? What is it! You need to tell me. What!?!!”
“The foal. It was born last night. He was too big. His legs are twisted almost backwards and he can’t stand to nurse.” “Oh no. You can’t kill him. What is he going to do to kill him?”
“He’ll shoot him. It will be over fast.”
“I’ll feed him with a bottle. You fed Jim with a bottle. You didn’t shoot him just because he couldn’t stand up. I’ll feed him with a bottle. Just take me up there. Please, please don’t shoot him!!!” I was hysterical.
“I have something for you,” my mother smiled sadly. We had waited so long for Mona to have this foal. It was to be my horse; or so I was told. I’d only half believed it, but it didn’t matter. My mother wasn’t crying because my mother didn’t cry. She looked like Betty Boop, but she was more like John Wayne. She was tough and had no sympathy for tears. I was bawling. I thought of that hungry baby animal having its brains shot out because he couldn’t stand up. My brother took ages to stand up. It wasn’t fair.
“Why do you have to shoot him? I don’t believe you have to shoot him. Why?”
“Because.” That was my mother’s answer to all my questions.
“Let me get you your present.” She pulled out a little box from her pocket. I looked at it stupidly. A horse would never fit in there. “Open it,” she smiled gamely. I opened it and cried even harder. It was a locket, a heart shaped locket, a little sweet thing. It looked like a pretty little pink ribbon on the trash heap of my life.
“You don’t like it?”
I looked at her and was horrified because she looked as though she might actually cry.
“No,” I sobbed miserably, “I love it. It is beautiful. Thank you.” I ran to my room clutching the box. In that instant, I knew her pain was as great as mine.
About Cynthia Owens Lurix
Cynthia lives with her husband Paul on their farm in Sealy, TX where they breed Irish Draught and Andalusian horses, Angora goats and occasionally Great Pyrenees dogs.
Find out more about Cynthia and the horses she breeds: https://crowndale.com