People often ask us how Gentle Spirit Horses began — what moment, what spark, what decision led us here. The truth is layered: we were raised by an animal-loving mother who brought home wildlife and taught us to pay attention to the creatures most people overlooked; our skillsets happened to complement each other; and yes, there’s probably a little bit of necessary insanity in choosing a mission that touches every corner of your life.
But if we had to choose one moment — one true beginning — it would be the day Pirate chose us.
Like so many of the horses who eventually define us, Pirate’s early life was marked by instability. He arrived at a Minnesota auction in November 2003 thin, feral, scarred, terrified, and still a stallion. No one claimed him. No one wanted him. He was sold directly to slaughter. The only reason he survived was because a rescue group present that day had enough money to save just one horse — and they chose him because “he needed it the most.” He spent two years learning to trust at that rescue, then was transferred to Helping Hands Equine Rehabilitation in South Dakota when the original group closed. There, he was sent out on trial three separate times and returned every time. Too scared. Too reactive. Too much.
He was the horse no one could place — the one people couldn’t quite figure out.
And then came the day that changed everything.
Nina had just finished college and decided to adopt Beau from Helping Hands. Pirate came along only to be tried as a potential trail horse for our mother. I wasn’t looking for a horse — I was just there to support Nina. But Pirate made sure his story didn’t end the way it had begun.
Nina tried riding him first. He wouldn’t move. Not an inch. Afterward, she tied him to a fence to untack him. A young horse kicked a bucket on his blind side, and Pirate startled hard — jumping sideways, the saddle slipping off, then jumping back and pinning Nina against the fence. Her finger sprained, her patience gone, she told him sharply he was going “back to the horsey orphanage.”
I was standing a few steps away, watching. Pirate was terrified, his entire body tight with fear… and then — in an instant — the defenses dropped. Underneath all the panic and confusion, I saw something else: a horse who desperately needed patience, time, consistency, and someone willing to see him for who he really was. I didn’t have a lifetime of horse experience, but I had enough to recognize the truth in front of me.
I stepped forward and said he wasn’t going back. He was staying with me.
That moment — not a plan, not a vision, not a strategic decision — was the true beginning of Gentle Spirit Horses. It was the day we learned to look past the surface and see the horse underneath.
Working with Pirate shaped everything that came afterward. He had more challenges than we could have understood at the time: limited vision, partial deafness, balance issues, and lingering trauma from a life that had taught him caution. But he also had immense adaptability, courage, and a willingness to try when he felt safe. Through him, we learned that horses can overcome far more than most people realize when you meet them with patience and creativity.
Pirate taught us trust-building through invitation, not pressure. One of the early games we played was “hide and seek”: I would turn away from him and wait. When he chose to approach and touch me, he earned a reward; then I would walk away again. It became our shared language, and it shaped my belief — still true today — that horses should want to connect, not be forced into it.
He also taught us balance with horses who test boundaries. Pirate was playful and curious, always nudging, nibbling, seeing what he could get away with. From him I learned the art of fairness and firmness — how to set consistent limits without stifling a horse’s personality. That same blend of respect, clarity, and kindness guides every interaction we have with horses at Gentle Spirit Horses today.
And Pirate didn’t just change us — he changed people. He had an uncanny ability to find anxious volunteers and quietly put them at ease. Whether it was a child, a new volunteer, or someone who whispered that they were scared, Pirate was the one who stepped forward. He was gentle, intuitive, grounding — a horse who understood people as deeply as we tried to understand him. In the pasture, he became a steady leader, helping other horses learn trust. With me, he became a partner — my first real experience working with a horse rather than simply handling one.
Pirate taught us the values we built our rescue on: patience, softness, boundary-setting, listening to what fear actually means, and believing in the horses others overlook. He is the reason our entire approach — from training to intake decisions to our No Wrong Answer philosophy — has the shape it does today.
And his influence didn’t end with him. The last horse Pirate helped me gentle was Aries, my Morgan from the Iowa 41, who grew into a strong, fair, kind leader — so much like Pirate. Aries has since taught Arden, who is now stepping into leadership himself. Three generations of horses shaped by Pirate’s example: smart, playful, stable, and steady. A living legacy woven into the heart of our herd.
We also made a promise after Pirate died: someday, we would build a safe space specifically for blind horses. A place where horses like Pirate would never feel lost or vulnerable again. This fall, we fulfilled that promise with the completion of Pirate’s Paddock — built alongside a second space, Raven’s Run, named for another extraordinary blind horse who shaped our rescue. These aren’t symbolic gestures; they are the physical, functional continuation of Pirate’s impact.
From a frightened, overlooked horse tied to a fence on the worst day of his life…
to the foundation of a rescue that has helped over a thousand horses…
to a lineage of herd leaders who carry his lessons forward…
to a paddock built in his honor for blind horses who will never be unwanted again…
Pirate is the beginning of everything.
He didn’t just start Gentle Spirit Horses.
He defined what it would become.
And every horse who finds safety here today is part of the legacy he left behind.
Pirate taught us to believe in the horses that others overlook. Today, his legacy continues through every life we save — and you can be part of that legacy.
A generous donor is matching all gifts up to $15,000 for Giving Tuesday, doubling your impact on the horses who need it most.
Give today and help us continue the mission Pirate started:
👉 https://givebutter.com/neighitforward