This book is dedicated to my cowboy hero, Roy Rogers, my first love, with whom I rode my easy chair across the plains as a small child, and to Walter Farley, whose wonderful books about a fictional black stallion brought me so many hours of enjoyment throughout my life.
But most of all, it is dedicated to Woodrow Speakes, my late father-in-law, who understood my dream and made it possible for this suburban cowgirl to make it come true.
Thanks, Woody. I’ll never forget you.
This is believed by some members of my family to be a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, is said to be a figment of my overactive imagination. Nevertheless, while some of the names have been changed to protect the guilty, this is the true story of my adventures with horses throughout my life. My apologies to any of my friends and associates who are certain I wrote this under the influence of ammonia fumes from the barn, but this is how I remember it. If you remember things differently, write your own book!