RIP CHANCE.... A client wrote this about him a few years ago. Chance was one of two horses who started Diego Ranch.
I am sitting here looking at my now 17-year-old son as I am writing this, and it brings tears to my eyes. We first met Chance, a registered Quarter Horse more than 10 years ago when my son was only 7, on the autism spectrum, nonverbal, and needing occupational, physical, and speech therapy. Chance was a roping horse in his career before retiring into the most important job of his life: therapeutic riding at Diego Ranch.
The very first day we met Chance, he was so gentle and calming that my son was in the saddle within minutes, never afraid at all. By the end of the second visit, my son had a big smile on his face and didn't want to get off Chance. He looked forward to our weekly visits, learned to brush and care for Chance, learned to say 'Whoa,' make a kissing sound, was able to use his motor planning to be able to 'give a kiss and a kick,' and used rainbow reins to give commands to Chance.
His relationship with Chance grew over the years, and they could communicate just with my son laying the reins on the side of his neck for the direction my son was leading him. Today, my son speaks, reads beautifully, is physically strong, and is happy and content—all miracles that can be attributed to Chance and Diego Ranch for being in our lives and prayers.
I would like to say that Chance was a one-kid therapy horse, but he worked tirelessly with hundreds of other children.
Chance was the prince of the barn, the ultimate favorite and a gentle giant to everyone. He not only had a special bond with my son and other kids, but his relationship with his owner was also incredible. His owner could stand at the edge of the arena and call for him, and he would come running to Michael even knowing he was coming in to work.
We had to say our goodbyes to our dear friend in January. We had the opportunity to help care for him as Michael was out of town the week before. He seemed a little down, but we thought he was just missing his owner. We visited daily and whispered in his ear, 'Your Daddy will be home on Sunday.' He came home Sunday afternoon, spent time with him that evening, and the next morning, we found out he had passed away in his sleep during the night.
Being 32 years old, we knew this time would come eventually, but we were never prepared for this event. It was like he knew he needed to say goodbye to his owner and let him have a chance to see him before he left us. Ever considerate, thinking of others until the very end. That was our boy, our special friend, our prince, our Chance.
He was the ideal horse to be a therapy horse. He took his job so seriously, no matter what the level of ability of the child on his back. His heart was as big as he was. Chance will live on in all of our hearts and minds forever.