On Christmas Day 1957 (or maybe 1958), “Santa Claus” surprised the Smith family with two horses,
Sugar Babe and Stormy.
Me on Sugar Babe in my robin’s egg blue cowboy outfit, Laurel on Stormy
the morning we got horses for Christmas 
Jessie Haire and me on Sugar Babe, Jackie on Stormy, some time later
For several months beforehand, Dad had persuaded us to help him build what he was calling “our cow barn.” Because we weren’t well-versed in the differences between a cow barn and a horse barn, we didn’t notice anomalies that would have clued us in on the ruse. Besides, as an animal lover, I was deleriously happy just imagining we’d soon have cows!
As Christmas approached and the cow barn was finalized, it was time to decorate our indoor Christmas tree and outdoor bushes. So, we did that.
SANTA CLAUS HAD MORE THAN REINDEER THAT YEAR!
On Christmas Eve, we three “girls” went to bed, knowing Santa would arrive overnight and deposit lots of goodies underneath the Christmas tree. We were not a well-to-do family, so the only three times during the year when we got extra stuff was during our birthdays, when Mom took us clothes shopping as each new school year approached, and when Santa brought gifts at Christmastime.
So, Christmas was a really big deal at our house every year.
On Christmas morning we got up as early as Mom and Dad would allow and scrambled to the Christmas tree. Underneath it was an array of different sized, wrapped packages. The milk and cookies we’d left out for Santa were gone, and our stockings were filled with goodies, too: nuts, oranges, Cracker Jacks, jacks, marbles, and other fun and/or yummy treats.
At some point, Dad pulled the curtains shut that covered the sliding glass door in our living room. Or else they were shut the entire time. I was certainly too oblivious to notice what he was doing, focused as I was on tearing open the boxes with my name on them to discover what was in them.
Out of one box, I pulled a robin’s egg blue cowboy oufit with white fringes across the chest. Next I pulled out cowboy boots. Sweet! I was a huge Roy Rogers fan, so I was in hog heaven. I would be able to look like a real cowboy when we finally got the cows we’d been waiting for.
At some point, Dad called to all three of us — standing there by the curtain-covered sliding glass door — until he had our full attention. When we looked up, he drew the curtains back, and there stood our friend Larry Kirkwood with two magnificent steeds: Sugar Babe and Stormy.
I shrieked, leapt up from the floor, ran to the opening door, and tried to climb aboard one of the two horses, but the saddle hadn’t been cinched yet, so Larry asked me to wait while he did that. My foot was in the stirrup the moment he pulled it down and it fell within reach. (I know this because Mom or Dad videotaped the moment.)
I was a basket case. I had wanted a horse forever and was always drawing horses, playing with plastic horses, and watching westerns chiefly because horses.
LARRY KIRKWOOD CHOSE THE ABSOLUTE BEST HORSES FOR US
Both horses were calm around kids.
Stormy was a parade horse, trained to remain calm around horns, whistles, musical instruments, tumbling street clowns, and the occasional fire cracker.
Sugar Babe was a well-versed pack animal, so whenever our parents took us horseback riding on the Olyympic Peninsula or elsewhere, Jackie (the youngest Smith) rode Sugar Babe because Sugar Babe would watch for Jackie’s legs and knees as we traversed narrow trails with trees on both sides.
When we were kids, army base Fort Lewis was largely open range, so we kids often rode the horses over there.
Sugar Babe could be bossy, though…
Sugar Babe was mostly calm and even-tempered, but there were times when she decided she had been ridden long enough.
Then, she would put her head down toward her knees, pulling the reins farther and farther toward the ground so that whoever was riding her couldn’t “rein her in.” Head down, resolved, she would start back toward the barn, letting us know, in no uncertain terms, that she was oh so done for the day. And woe be it for any vehicle that stood between her and her beloved barn sanctuary! She demanded the right of way, so bemused drivers on Spanaway Loop just witnessed the power play, shook their heads, stopped their vehicles, and laughed.
Enchanted Island Mishap
Enchanted Island, which is surrounded by Lake Spanaway,was less than a half mile from our home, and Penny and Judi Cooper lived there. Jessie Haire lived between us and Enchanted Island. So we often rode horses around the Isle, which — back then — was mostly wooded with very few homes on it. Most of it was forest, in fact.
One day Jackie and I were riding Stormy and Sugar Babe (Jackie on Stormy) and some scurrying or other noise in the bushes right next to them frightened Stormy, so she jumped sideways. Jackie wasn’t expecting the sideways lurch and she fell off and onto the gravel road beneath them and set up a howl. (To her credit, as soon as Jackie fell, Stormy turned around and came right back to check on her.)
Mrs. Cooper — Judi and Penny’s mom — heard Jackie squalling and bolted out of their home to see what was the matter. When she saw what had happened, she bolted back inside and called Mom, telling her Jackie had just fallen off her horse.
Mom asked, “Is she crying?”
Mary Jane said, “Yes, she’s crying!” probably thinking, “What a dumb question. Why would I call if Jackie wasn’t crying?”
To her surprise, Mom said, “Oh, good! I’ll be right there.”
(Apparently, had Jackie NOT been crying after falling, Mom would have called for an ambulance or other trained responder before heading out to check on her, but since she was crying, she most likely wasn’t mortally wounded.)
Sugar Babe and Stormy were magnificent animals. And because they were our first horses (over time, we had a dozen more) they are most firmly cemented in my mind and heart. They taught me how to handle and treat horses: with love, kindness and compassion. (Or maybe, because I was already an animal lover, I knew that before I met them, and so they responded to me with love, kindess and compassion!)
