Lightning
May 17, 1991-January 8, 2005
Owned and loved by Debbie Young & family

(Something Special)
She knew it
When she first
Saw her
This one…
This one…
Is something special

A name
Had to be found
Stormy filly
Lightning
Perfect…
Something Special

Why she even
Has her own
Song
Lightning
The Liberty Queen
Hair raising, breathtaking
Tears to your eyes
Something Special

Who said
Arabians don’t have
“Cow”
HA…forgot to
Tell her

Lightning
Penning Queen
Awesome, Snaky
Git that cow
Something Special

English Pleasure
Western Pleasure
Trail, drives
Do it all
That’s our girl
Lightning
Something Special

Written by Susan Crocker

This tribute was sent in by Danique Rowsell after reading Lightning's poem.
Sue, Im sitting here with tears in my eyes.
You captured everything that was Lightning in those few words.

I have pictures of Lightning in her younger years, with a much younger Justin aboard. Pictures of Lightning with SHAWN up...yep...Shawn..at a FatNFurry show at the Greenwood Saddle Club waaaay back when. I have pictures and trophies and ribbons won by Lightning and my sister...the horse that gave her confidence, yet let her test the waters. Showed her a touch of speed, let her get her feet wet, and then carried her to a red ribbon in a pleasure class.

I have memories of Lightning and Debbie helping me get my first three cows in. Lightning wanting to get those cows in, Debbie holding her back, smiling, letting me do the honour of putting my hand up to call time. The mare snorting, just happy that they were where she wanted them. I remember watching her arab ears prick as she cantered towards the herd the first few times she was in the pen with the cows, thinking..."here comes the spook!" and she just kept cantering, albeit slowly, and ever so floaty...towards the cows.

I remember losing to her in a line class. And not feeling bad about it.



I have a mental image of her in Lawrencetown, the stands full, her song playing over the entire grounds. People crowded along the rail. She was by the ingate when I saw her, trotting counter clockwise on the rail, when she hit the corner, her head came up, her tail came up, she snorted and cantered across the diagonal. No one said a word. Then the crowd erupted. I had a haflinger on the end of a leadrope, and even she was straining to see. Standing perfectly still, knowing she was in the presence of something magical. And that's exactly what is was to watch that horse in liberty. Her and Debbie read each other like books, each taking cues from the other, feeding off of each other's passion.

It was an honour to see something so personal between horse and human. Looking back on it, I felt I was watching something through a window, something maybe I wasn't supposed to be seeing. Both seemed oblivious to everything other than each other and the music. But when the crowd erupted and the mare shook her head, that's when you knew she was letting you into her world, just for a second. Letting you know that she was indeed real, not just the imaginary horse that you picture when you think of something free. She was right there in front of you. To watch a horse who had, only minutes earlier, been galloping free, willingly give her life and soul back to her human, back to all of the things in "captivity" she had shed only moments ago...that makes you question the bond you have with your own horse.
And to watch her walk up to Debbie after running as if she had never seen a bridle or lead rope...with her dished head down waiting for a pat and a "good girl," to watch them both walk out of the ring, Debbie's hand on her shoulder, and to see her entrusting her spirit back into the hands of her human...that was magic.