Mazatez, my first Arabian. (Timeline: 1966)

A few months after I moved my first horse up to the house above Whittier College, where I lived at the time, I saw an ad in the paper for a couple of yearling Arabian colts for sale. I have always admired Arabians and thought they were a very special breed of horse. Partly because of the gorgeous and intelligent Arabians at Circus Schumann back home, and partially because of the Black Stallion and Island Stallion books. Some of my friends at the stable where I used to board Bahldin advised me against getting an Arabian. I am tallish; 5'8, and have always been heavy. Back then, at 19, and even as active as was back then, it was a real struggle to keep my weight down to 200, and one of the arguments was that an Arabian was too small and too fine boned for someone my size. The other argument was, as always, that Arabians were too high strung and too hard to train.

I listened to all of this, but in the end I decided not to heed their advice. From what little exposure I had had to Arabians, I felt that an Arabian was just what I wanted! So, I called the people who had the two colts for sale. They were located in Malibu, in the hills just above Zuma Beach. I didn't drive back then, so off I went to the bus station, which was a couple of miles from the house. To Los Angeles, where I changed to a bus that went to Pacific Palisades, which is near Malibu. Back then I was a fast walker, and used to walk long distances, so I figured that once I was in Malibu I could just walk up Pacific Coast Highway and arrive at the Williamsons in an hour or less. Yeah SURE!!!! Two hours later I was still walking and nowhere near Zuma Beach yet! I finally gave up and got a hold of a taxi to take me the rest of the way. What I found out was that I had covered less than HALF the distance on foot! Sure glad I had enough money on me for the taxi! Otherwise I probably wouldn't have arrived until after dark!

The colt I liked was a not quite 11 month old rose grey colt named Mazatez. Here is one of the pics I took that day. He was being bit difficult; he wouldn't let anyone catch him, so I never laid a hand on him then, but that didn't deter me. We made the deal, and they would bring him to up me in Whittier that weekend. Then they were nice enough to drive me down to where I could catch the bus for home.

To this day I do not know how they got Maz into the trailer. They had him tied down with a rope around his belly and to a ring in the floor or maybe near the floor. Poor Maz, who had had very little handling and had never been in a trailer before, was so scared that he kicked Mr. Williamson in the stomach when he unloaded him.

Maz went up in the corral with the two ponies and Bahldin, and that was the last time I put a hand on him for a while. After about a week of not being able to catch Maz, I was near despair! The gardner my employers used was a Mexican, and it happened that he was pretty good with horses and lassos, so he roped Maz for me, and then he tied a long, soft rope on him. Around his neck, tight enough that Maz couldn't slip it off, and loose enough so it wouldn't interfere with his breathing or swallowing. And with a special kind of a knot that was easy to untie when you knew how but could NOT tighten up on his neck. The gardner showed me how to tie that knot.

The rope was long enough so it would trail maybe 6 feet behind Maz, so what I would do was to walk up close, very slowly and quietly, and talking gently to him all the time, until I got close enough to step on the rope. Then I'd say "Whoa Maz!", and he soon realized that once he heard THOSE words, he couldn't run away. Then I'd grab the rope and walk up to him, petting him and praising him all the while. It didn't take long before Maz got the idea that he didn't need to run away from me, and we soon became very good friends. He was, of course, much too young for me to ride, but I still had Bahldin, so I didn't mind waiting. I spent as much time with him as I could spare, and once he overcame the scaredy-cat attitude, he showed that he was a VERY intelligent fellow; extremely easy to work with. Here is a pic of the tails of Maz, Daisy May, Bahldin and Tinker Belle; busy eating, taken about 2 months after the day I bought him.


For Maz's one year birthday we had a party. Some of the neighborhood kids; friends of the three boys I took care of, came up for cake and punch. Maz and the other horses had carrots! A local newspaper reporter heard about the horse birthday party, so he wanted to put a human-interest story in the local paper. He came up to take pictures. Of course we had to get a second cake; the other one was long gone. Here is the pic he took. He wrote a nice little story with it, and I had a copy, but unfortunately I don't know what I did with it.

But soon disaster struck! It took the form of distemper, also known as strangles. Maz developed a large abscess on his throat. I called a veterinarian; someone that the people at the stable where I had previously boarded Bahldin knew of. Maz had a very high temp, near 106, so the vet prescribed an antibiotic; shots to be given twice daily until his temp had been normal for 48 hours. I was still pretty green where horses were concerned, so I put my trust in the vet, who showed me how to give him the shots. Maz got better, but soon he got sick again. I called the vet, who told me to start up with the antibiotics again, twice daily until his temp was normal for 48 hours. Once more Maz improved within a few days, but it didn't take long before he got sick yet again. By now I was convinced that something was seriously wrong, so I got a hold of a different vet. The diagnosis wasn't encouraging; this time the abscess had formed in his intestines and was as big as a football. Poor Maz was VERY sick! Many a time I would sit up in the dusty corral with him; his head in my lap. One of my friends at the stable down by the river had a horse trailer, so he came up to pick Maz up and we took him out to the nearby horse hospital; Chino Valley Equine Clinic. I was hoping that THEY could save my friend. A very thorough examination showed that the abscess was involving a lot of his intestines, and an operation would be extremely dangorous and with a VERY slim chance of success. The vet told me I could take Maz home again, but that he would almost for sure die within a week or two, and in great pain. So I did the best I could for him. I stayed for a while, while he had a last feed. Not that he would eat much! Then I held him in my arms while the vet gave him that final shot! Then I went home, ALL ALONE!

I soon bought another Arabian; also a grey, named Fershan, but that is a story for another day.

Here is the very last pic I have of my darling Maz; taken shortly before he got sick. King of the Hill!

I later learned that what that vet did was the exact WRONG thing! Maybe SOME antibiotics were indicated; his temp was pretty high, but basically, the way to treat strangles is to let the abscess come to a head and let the pus drain out. It is pretty rare for a horse to DIE from strangles, as long as it is handled right. I learned some other things about that vet too; and none were complimentary! But I had done the best I knew how, so I cannot let myself feel guilty. It was the VET that killed my Maz; HE should have known better!

For those of you who know me, you probably know that my horse operation, while never very large, has always been known as "M E Ranch Arabians". The "E" is for Eva, my first name. The "M" is for Mazatez. Maz never had a chance to leave any foals behind, but I promised him that he would never be forgotten, and naming my "ranch" after him was the best I could do. More than 40 years ago now, but the tears are streaming down my face as I write this!