By: Jules Mold
Let me tell you about a horse I knew.
His name was Buddy. He was grey that deep settled silver-white that comes with years and a life fully lived. I had met him before, through his owner Karen, a friend. I knew him in the ordinary way you know a friend's horse. The presence of him, the relationship between him and Karen that was evident even in passing.
At that point, I was concentrating entirely on dog photography. Horses weren't part of the plan. Then Karen's husband rang to say they'd made the decision about Buddy. The day I headed over to take photos Karen and this horse I already knew, unhurried and ungroomed, completely at ease.
Karen told me afterwards that she has her coffee with him every morning. In his portrait on her kitchen wall.
That day opened a door I hadn't known was there.
I grew up with horses. Both sides of my family are farmers, sheep and dairy in New Zealand. But I'd been concentrating on dogs. Then Buddy happened, and something that had been dormant woke back up.
Once you have horses in the blood, it is genuinely challenging to do nothing with it. The farm childhood, the years alongside working animals all of it was still there. It had just been waiting for the right moment.
Once you have horses in the blood, it is challenging to do nothing with it.
The spotlight goes to the elite. And meanwhile, the horses who make up the actual backbone of the equine world go largely unrecorded. The pony who helped sixty-five children learn to ride. The schoolmaster. The trail horse. The companion who never competed but was the steadiest presence in someone's life.
These horses have stories. Long, layered, deeply felt stories. And most of those stories will disappear when the horses do.
The Senior Horse Book will be a hardcover collection ‘The Heart of a Horse: Stories of Love and Loyalty’— built from individual photo shoots with senior horses and the people who love them. Any senior horse, generally eighteen and older. No competition record required. Just a horse who has been loved, and a person who wants to honour that.
You don't have to be the superstar racehorse. You just have to have been loved. And that's more than enough.
The Senior Horse Book is dedicated to Buddy. And to Karen, who loved him well. He opened the door. He reminded me that horses had always been in the blood. And he showed me that the horses worth photographing aren't the ones on the podium they're the ones in the paddock, ungroomed, belonging entirely to the person standing beside them.
Register your interest at wolfeandfox.com. Come and find me at a show or simply drop me a message.
Buddy knew what he was worth. He just waited patiently in the paddock until someone with a camera a friend who already knew him understood it too.
With muddy boots and a full heart,
Jules x
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