The Autumn of a Horse's Life

His name is Cowboy Spook, and he stands about sixteen hands high. But when I was on his back I felt like I was a mile off the ground. To those of you who don't understand "hands" in measuring a horse, a hand is about 4 inches, and Cowboy Spook stood six inches less than six feet tall--at the shoulder. But as a personality he stood a whole lot taller.

They say everyone who owns a horse or a dog has that once in a lifetime animal that is either perfect in every way, or very close to it. For the Cordovas, that is Cowboy Spook. He is a tobiano buckskin in color, a paint by breed. To those not in the horse world, that means a pinto horse whose darker coloring is somewhat that of a piece of deer hide. That's about as close as I can describe it, although the shades of buckskins vary widely.

I can still remember the moment I first laid eyes on Cowboy Spook. The very instant. I was with my wife at the Idaho State Fair, in Blackfoot. We always make our way first to the horse barns. We make our way slowly through, enjoying the four-legged friends everyone has brought out to show off. As I came upon Cowboy Spook's stall, I was stunned. I was speechless. Well, almost. And as you might have guessed, speechless is hard for me. I grabbed my wife and said, "DEBBIE!" That's all I could think of to say. Here stood this absolutely incredible animal, perfect from head to foot, more horse than most people will ever lay eyes on, much less ride. On his stall was his photo and the words "Cowboy Spook."

Of course I wasn't going to let this chance pass by. I had to know more about this incredible animal, the likes of which I had never seen. So I made the acquaintance of Caroline Cordova, the gracious lady who is Cowboy's friend and owner. And I couldn't help but become friends with her too.

In 2002, my wife and I, and our friend, Shoshone Indian Clyde Hall, met Caroline Cordova and her husband, Artie, in Mackay, Idaho, where they had Cowboy Spook at the local rodeo grounds. I was dressed in authentic Shoshone regalia, some of it actually from the 1800's, set to portray a white man living with the Indians in 1860's Idaho. We took five rolls of film of me riding Cowboy and standing beside him for a future book cover. He was every bit as incredible from above as he was from below.

And then the years slipped by. Cowboy stopped coming to see all his fans at the fair. Other, younger studs began to take over his work at the ranch. And then we learned this fall that Cowboy's health was failing. For years I had meant to go see him at his home in Challis. At last I knew that this was the year we had to make the trip.

Yesterday, Debbie and I and our 10-year-old son, Matthew, made our way on the most beautiful day since mid-May to the little Western town of Challis, Idaho. Entering this town is like taking a trip back 120 years in time. My kind of place. We drove to the Cordovas' ranch and visited for a while, and then Caroline took us out to see our friend.

Cowboy Spook was in a corral all alone. When I first laid eyes on him it was all I could do to hold back my tears of sadness. I walked to him and put my arms around his neck when he leaned his head down for me. The once powerful muscles were weak. His hip bones and ribs protroduded, and his joints were swollen. His mane and tail were lackluster and thin, and his hair was coarse and dull. It is written in the stars: this is Cowboy Spook's last autumn. He quite literally has reached the autumn of his life.

There is nothing harder to watch than a horse or a dog who has been your constant companion as they travel down that hard road that leads eventually to their "crossing over the Great Divide." For me, not having seen Cowboy in five years, it was a crushing blow to see him like this. He can't digest his food well anymore, he can't run and rear like he did. He can't carry a man as big as I. Cowboy's days on the prairie are over, as an old song says. And I could not be more sad.

Cowboy Spook was not only the Cordovas' once in a lifetime horse, but the once in a lifetime horse of a million other people as well. I have photographed, studied, befriended and ridden more horse than I could ever count. Yet never have I seen the equal of Cowboy Spook. Both in his incredibly friendly, loving and docile temperament, and in the beauty of his appearance and the smoothness of his ride. There will never be another Cowboy Spook. The day his old eyes glaze over and his heart stops beating, the horse world as a whole will lose a huge part of its heart too. There will never be another horse like Cowboy Spook.