By Leslie Hudson-Tolles

The day begins shrouded by fog. The horses appear slowly, numbering one less than is proper. The good morning nicker that has greeted me for 30 years is absent. My world is off kilter, the axis painfully acute this morning. It is the first day of the rest of my life without my beloved horse Benjamin.

It occurs to me that momentous occasions in life often enter unpretentiously. A friend found a classified ad in The Newtown Bee and asked me to go look with her to see a “bay Morgan, daughter outgrown.” I spent a great deal of time at Ransomvale Morgan Farm near home in WNY State so I went as “technical adviser.” The little brown gelding’s papers told of Pecos and Parade, as did his attitude, He disdained the would-be buyers and blessed me with several long, direct looks that robbed me of sleep that night.

It was the beginning of the 1970s with Elton John’s recent hit “Benny and the Jets” used as his theme song by the teenage owner when Hi-Vale Mister Ben picked his person. I was it and brought him “home” to my friend’s barn in Easton.

I was a city kid, a horse lover and had grown up with dogs – but owning a horse is an experience that impacts all of your life’s decisions. Apartments were now considered not to proximity to work, but to “the barn.” Buying a home translated to purchasing a cottage with enough land in a horse-friendly community for Ben to live in the back yard. Fencing was the project of choice, every weekend and summers. Even landscaping was dictated by my horse’s palate.

With the help of The American Morgan Horse Association, Ben’s past was reconstructed. He was bred in northwest Connecticut by John Bennett Sr and was shown as a colt by John Jr, now in charge of the University of Connecticut horse program.

He was a superb driving horse, so I learned to drive him with help from Hope Jones of Monroe. Hitched to an 1860 Three Spring wagon and later a Studebaker buggy, Ben and I were fourth in the nation for carriage Morgans. We did some mini one-day events (jumping) and were always in the ribbons. We loved the sleigh rallies and on snowy days when the roads were closed we had the joy and freedom of experiencing what the back roads of Newtown must have been like 100 years ago as Ben and I took to the sleigh.

There are boxes of Mister Ben’s ribbons in the attic. Together we brought home several Connecticut Morgan year-end awards. The best times we spent were the stolen moments after work, close to home. With neighbors Chris and Lorraine we rode and cleared trails and founded the Newtown Bridle Lands Association. And in the mid ‘70s, Ben and I found what we both loved – hunter pacing.

Ben and I participated in every NBLA hunter pace through his 32nd year, with the exception of the year I gave birth in October. We drove countless brides to their weddings in Newtown, Redding, Essex, Ridgefield, Easton, Monroe, Southbury and Butler, Pennsylvania. Ben was a fixture in my life when the girls came and he joined me in making the shift from tailoring, showing and weddings to big wheels and kid’s parties.

When Ben turned 20 years old, I told my daughter (not yet 3) that it was his birthday. She insisted, as only an indignant child can, that we have cake and ice cream and sing Happy Birthday to him. It was a cold, snowy evening in March, so rather than bundle Lindsay up and take her to the barn, it was a much simpler matter to bring Ben through the garage and (front end only!) into the family room for carrot cake.

This began an annual family tradition – one Lindsay, Alyssa and Ben and I celebrated each year. His 25th, 30th and 35th birthday celebrations are treasured memories of friends and neighbors and lives that touched and were touched by my Mister Ben. Each year as our guests leaned over the couch to pet him, I would be asked how long do horses live? My answer was always, “If you are lucky, you see them reach their 20s. If you are blessed, as I have been you get 30 years with them.”

From Morgan Show Horse to Cubing with the Fairfield County Hounds to the 4H mount and pet and lawn mover, Mister Ben was a friend for all season. He gallops free now … and awaits me.

Hi-Vale Mister Ben

Hi-Vale Royal Man x Broadwall Patora

March 22, 1968 – May 22, 2004