Before Gentle Spirit Horses ever had a name, before we knew anything about nutrition, ulcers, blanket weights, or why certain horses seemed to lose 20 IQ points the moment the temperature dropped… there was Beau.
Beau didn’t arrive here because we were looking for him — he arrived because my sister Nina, fresh out of college, was looking for her first horse. Nina didn’t grow up the way I did; by the time she was old enough to ride, the horses of our childhood were long gone, and her horse experience came mostly from campground trail rides.
Then she went to William Woods University — one of the biggest equestrian colleges in the country — for business, not horses. But life is funny. A barn crisis on campus required every student to help, and something clicked. Suddenly she was squeezing equestrian classes into her schedule, learning everything she could, and by the time she graduated and moved to Sioux Falls, she was determined to adopt a horse before she even had a job lined up. Priorities, right?
That search led her to a small South Dakota rescue that no longer exists — and to a skinny, half-blind 4-year-old Thoroughbred gelding named Beau. Pirate, as the story goes, simply came along for the ride. But Beau was the one Nina had chosen.
Beau has a pedigree that reads like a Minnesota racing history lesson. Registered as Goodhue Wildcat, he is the son of Come Summer, who still holds the track record at Canterbury Downs. Beau was bred to run.
But as a foal, his dam kicked him in the head, and by the time he left for early race training, he was declared blind in his left eye. Instead of becoming a racehorse, he was donated to a Minnesota rescue. When that rescue folded, he was transferred to South Dakota.
And that’s where our paths crossed — thin, stressed, and so very ready for someone to believe in him.
If Pirate taught us heart, Beau taught us horsekeeping. He struggled with weight for years, and we threw everything we knew — and everything we didn’t — at the problem. We tried every feed on the market, ulcer treatments, endless supplements, different turnout routines, stress-reduction tricks, and the classic “maybe this one will work” approach you rely on when you’re young and still learning.
Eventually, Beau showed us what really matters: good weight comes from quality forage, proper nutrition, and time. Because of him, we stopped buying cheap “All Stock” grain and learned to pay attention to protein and fat levels, to use vitamin balancers correctly, to choose better hay, and to recognize how deeply stress alone can strip weight faster than any feed can add it. He was our first true nutrition puzzle — the horse who pushed us from simply doing our best to actually understanding what we were doing.
And once we finally got his nutrition right, Beau didn’t just gain weight — he flourished. In fact, he became so “pleasingly plump” that he gave us one of our all-time favorite Beau moments. At a local dressage show, he competed in the same level as two other horses — both likely Thoroughbred crosses, but neither registered. After their rides, the judge addressed the group and, looking straight at Beau, said, “Unfortunately, your Quarter Horse just can’t compete with the Thoroughbreds.” The irony, of course, was perfect: Beau was the only full, registered Thoroughbred in the ring… and the one horse the judge believed couldn’t possibly be one. It was the ultimate sign of how far he’d come, transforming from a thin, stressed youngster into a confident, round, and healthy horse who apparently defied breed identification.
Beau also taught us something we still joke about today: Cold Thoroughbred Syndrome. It’s not a medical term — just our name for the moment when an otherwise intelligent Thoroughbred becomes… temporarily confused the second the temperature drops. Other breeds do it too, but Beau was our proof case. Through him, we learned the ins and outs of blanketing: fill weights, layering, denier strength (because he will shred a blanket), and how to keep a sensitive horse warm without overheating him. These weren’t lessons from books — they were earned day by day, winter after winter, with Beau patiently showing us what he needed.
He made us better caretakers. He made us better horse people. And nearly everything we know today began with what he taught us back then.
It’s hard to believe it’s been nearly twenty years since Beau stepped off that trailer. Now close to twenty-five years old, he’s still one of the sweetest, steadiest souls on the property. In winter, he lives in one of our higher-needs pens and gets the extra feed he needs to stay comfortable; in summer, he thrives on pasture. He loves attention, especially from the kids in Bug Club, and he’s one of the horses our teenage volunteers are trusted to ride and take to local shows. Through every season of this rescue — from our early, uncertain days to the operation we are now — Beau has simply remained, quietly shaping the people and the place around him.
While Pirate passed away in 2012, Beau stayed. He is the living connection between who we were then and who we’ve become. If Pirate is “The One Who Started It All,” Beau is unquestionably “The One Who Stayed,” carrying forward the lessons, patience, humor, and resilience that helped form the backbone of Gentle Spirit Horses. His presence has been a constant reminder that some horses change you with dramatic stories, and some change you by simply being there day after day, teaching you how to be better.
Every horse is an individual, and good care begins with understanding their unique needs.
Beau taught us early that two horses standing in the same pasture can require completely different approaches. His weight struggles, sensitivities, and stress responses reminded us that there is no one-size-fits-all in rescue. Paying attention to who the horse is — not just what the books say — is the foundation of good horsemanship.
Steadiness and kindness shape a horse just as much as feed and farrier work.
Beau has never been dramatic or demanding; he is the kind who meets the world with quiet patience. Through him, we learned that consistency, calm handling, and daily reliability matter just as much as the tangible parts of care. His gentle nature showed us how far a horse can come when they are met with softness and routine.
Some horses change a rescue not through crisis, but through constancy.
Pirate may have been the spark, but Beau became the steady thread that helped define who we were becoming. Horses like him teach you in slow, meaningful layers — shaping your methods, your mindset, and your standards over time. Beau showed us that the long-term residents, the ones who simply stay and grow alongside you, often leave the deepest and most lasting mark.
Beau has been with us for nearly two decades, shaping the way we care for every horse who has come after him. Horses like him — steady, kind, and full of quiet lessons — are the heart of Gentle Spirit Horses. As we work toward our $15,000 Giving Tuesday Match, your support helps ensure that horses like Beau continue to receive the thoughtful, individualized care they deserve.
If you’d like to honor Beau’s place in our story, please consider a matched donation:
https://givebutter.com/neighitforward
Your gift helps feed the long-timers, support the medical-needs horses, and give every horse — from the newest arrival to the ones who have stayed with us the longest — the care they need to thrive.