Decoda

I first met Decoda in Sacramento in a small facility in Carmichael next to a big equestrian park. He was barely 4 years old, an off-the-track (OTT) New Zealand Standardbred. He was a Pacer. For those of you who do not know, there are 2 types of trotters – a standard trotter and a pacer, this is their gait in which they race. This type of racing is extremely hard on the young horses’ joints. Decoda raced at Cal Expo, but because he was 2 seconds slower than his mother and father, and his fetlocks had serious injury from racing so early before his bones could be thoroughly formed, he developed “High Ringbone” ending his racing days in 2003.

By 2004, he was discovered at a so-called “rescue facility” in Rio Vista California. They had so many horses up to their bellies in pure mud, during that time, California was in a state of emergency due to flooding that winter. Being the low man on the totem pole, he was 400 pounds underweight—emaciated. His trauma left lasting effects, including food aggression. 

In 2004, while rehabilitating my horse Rowdy at the facility, I met a 14-year-old girl and Decoda. Her father, hoping to keep her focused and away from boys, had purchased Decoda from the drowning, overcrowded rescue facility. Decoda and Rowdy were in side-by-side paddocks at the Carmicheal facility.

Not wanting to offend Decoda’s new family, and unaware of his full story but noticing his emaciated state, I quietly began sneaking food to him throughout the day. Also, each night before leaving, I would toss an extra flake of hay and a bucket of grain into his paddock. He gained weight really quick! Eventually, I learned the heartbreaking details of his past and felt compelled to help the girl turn him into a great horse.

I worked with her for nearly a year. She had a natural ability in the saddle and was a quick learner, but Decoda was even more remarkable— very intelligent, eager to please, and happy to have a little girl of his own.

Eventually, Rowdy recovered, and I returned to Mountain House, leaving Decoda and the young girl behind. I visited once in a while and we rode the American River Trails and stayed in touch.

A year and a half later, at the onset of the recession, I received a call from her father. They planned to send Decoda to auction, and the devastated young girl pleaded with me to take him. With little hope for Decoda—especially as his High Ringbone would inevitably worsen—I agreed to take him in. I promised her that once she was 21 and stable, she could have him back. If she wasn’t, I’d keep him forever.

Decoda loved his new home and companions. He finally had stability. The girl and her father visited from time to time, but eventually stopped coming. They never found stability themselves—even years later. Decoda, God willing, would always have a forever home at the ranch, now called Grateful Heart Ranch a 501(c)(3).

Now, nearly 20 years later, Decoda remains with us. He is still food aggressive and always eats first, but he is the safest large horse on the ranch. Due to his advanced Ringbone, only small children and light adults ride him. His teeth require floating twice a year to ensure he can eat hay and absorb its nutrients. He is supplemented with pelleted feed as well, making his upkeep costly—but he is worth every bit of it.

Most of all, Decoda brings joy to everyone who meets him, offering big, soft kisses as his signature gift.

Shiloh

In the early spring of 2011, at the peak of the recession, a close animal-loving girl friend asked me to attend a horse auction on a quiet Saturday night in Turlock, CA. She warned me there would be a “kill buyer” buying up horses to ship across the California and Texas borders to Mexico for slaughter. Knowing how they are slaughtered in Mexico, my heart ached for the horses, and I felt God prompting me to attend.

That night, a rescue organization from Redding, CA arrived with a massive 40-foot trailer loaded with 37 very young, purebred, Thoroughbred colts and fillies. The horses had originally been bred by a doctor as a side hobby, but when things spiraled out of control and the animals were left starving, authorities intervened, confiscating them and placing them with a rescue. However, with the recession straining resources, even the rescue couldn’t handle the overwhelming burden, so they brought the horses to the auction.

All of these youngsters, were papered and registered Thoroughbreds (horses that should never have ended up at an auction). That night, the pens were also filled with other purebred and grade horses, as well as ponies, some typically worth thousands of dollars. Yet, due to the recession, none sold for more than $250, and many, including the Thoroughbred foals, weren’t bid on at all.

As the auction drew to a close, we identified the kill buyers. They ignored the young foals and the severely malnourished older horses whose deteriorating teeth made it impossible for them to properly chew or digest food. Since kill buyers typically sought heavier horses for their meat, this neglect turned out to be a blessing for the most vulnerable animals that night. But not so much for the exhausted, elderly husband and wife, who had driven all through the night to get to this auction hoping their precious horses would find a new home. By God’s grace, we happened to see them arrive at the last minute. I had a feeling that this was the reason the Lord prompted me to come.

From a modest trailer bearing an Idaho license plate, a stunning filly stepped out—her coat gleaming like a copper penny, her flaxen mane and tail flowing with elegance. She was flawless in conformation had a very calm eye, despite the very long trip to an unknown destination. I felt she was absolutely lovely inside and out. It was clear she had been lovingly cared for.

Wanting to know her story and why they would come so far to let go of such beautiful animals, I asked the old man who was dropping her off, what was her story? He said he drove through the night, to make it to the auction on time. He and his wife were from Idaho, and she had always called the filly 'Princess.' She was a Bureau of Land Management (BLM) wild horse, trained and gentled in Idaho.

With a heavy heart, the man explained that his wife suffered from severe Alzheimer's and had begun to forget to care for the animals. Now, his focus had to be on her, leaving him with no choice but to let go of their beloved horses.

Mark and I looked her over, as she was the last horse to be auctioned. No one was really buying much of anything that night, except for the kill buyer. Because of her excellent conformation and perfect average size who thought she would be a good horse for Mark to ride. With her long curly Spanish looking mane, Mark said if he won her, he was going to change her name to Shiloh because of the way she peeked her eyes through her mane. When he said this, I knew he really liked her. I also knew the kill buyer would too. And he did.

Despite the recession, we were prepared to go toe-to-toe with the kill buyer. By God’s grace, we won her for an incredibly fair price. She was sound, never needed shoes, loaded into the trailer without hesitation, picked up her feet with ease, and from the moment we brought her home, she never once offered a buck.

Riding with her, we also took home, sweet little Katawnee - a very young, grey and white patched Shetland pony, who was still dripping with milk. But she has her own story. As Shiloh made the trip to her new home, I believe she knew she was going to a safe place. When she arrived and got out of the trailer, she looked around and whinnied, so happy to be with all the other horses. God willing, she now had a new forever family.

It’s now 2025 and she has been with us nearly 15 years. She has been an excellent ride, a lot spoiled, but always has her perfect ground manners. She has foaled three beautiful babies and as it turns out, DNA testing revealed her Spanish Andalusian heritage. No wonder she has such flawless conformation and lovely temperament! Even in her twenties, and absolutely spoiled, she still is one of the most beautiful and kind horses we’ve ever been blessed with. God is so so good!

Kailee

It all started with a pony named Patches.

One quiet evening, I walked into my barn and found something unexpected: a little pony standing in my stall, with a small bag of rocks perched on a barrel outside and a handwritten note that simply read, “Here’s your horse.” I was stunned. The note made no sense at first. But when I opened the stall door and saw who was inside, my heart nearly burst. It was Patches.

I had met him years earlier while picking up hay for my horses. He lived in a lonely round pen at the edge of the property, overlooked and forgotten. Days would pass—sometimes weeks—without anyone feeding him or showing him affection. The joy he once knew, being doted on by children who had long since outgrown him, had faded into memory.

I couldn’t stand to see him like that. So, every now and then, I’d sneak over and give him a little feed, a little love. One day, I finally asked his owner—my hay supplier—about the pony in the pen. He told me his kids no longer rode Patches and he wasn’t sure what to do with him. But he knew he had to do something.

Apparently, that “something” was giving Patches to me.

The Fight for Patches led us to Kailee

About a month later, his owner, unbeknownst to me, placed Patches in one of my stalls late one night, with the note on the barrel just outside the door, in hopes for a better life for little Patches. I was thrilled! Patches in his new life would have a new purpose and great friends to keep him company. He loved his new companions, Decoda & D’Artagnan - who welcomed him with gentle nudges and playful whinnies. The three of them became inseparable. They were always sure what to do with Patches so it was a little herd of love and mischief.

But just as we began to settle into our rhythm, tragedy struck. Patches colicked. In a heartbreaking twist, a young, inexperienced vet accidentally punctured his belly during intubation, triggering a dangerous case of peritonitis. We rushed him to Loomis Basin Veterinary in Penryn. I rode in the back of the trailer with him, refusing to let him face the pain alone. Sitting on my little stool, I read scripture aloud and prayed as we watched the world blur past us through the slats of the trailer.

When we arrived, God met us there.

Patches was greeted by a beautiful vet whose compassion & skill were nothing short of divine. She fought for him with everything she had, running tests, tapping his belly to relieve the pressure, and all the while barely charging a dime. Her heart was huge and she fought to keep him alive. Patches responded very well to all the love and attention devoted to little ol’ him —he was stoic.

For two long months, we battled. His odds were grim—just a 5% chance of survival—but we had faith. We had God. Though we were warned that his liver and kidneys might eventually fail, the vet refused to give up. She sourced powerful medications from India, ones no longer available in the States, and gave him every chance possible.

There were more trips north. More belly taps. More nights spent curled up in his stall, reading the Bible by lantern light. Decoda and D’Artagnan would lean over the stall wall, ears perked, as if they too were listening for hope in the verses.

And for a while, it seemed like we might see our miracle.

But in the end, Patches went home—to a place where pain no longer touched him. His stall stood empty. My heart did too.

I never knew I could love a pony so deeply. But love like that doesn’t vanish - it transforms. My memories of Patches live on in the quiet moments, I remember the way he looked at me over his shoulder, as if to say – you love me, you can’t help but love me. Yes, Patches, I still love you and I always will!

It was the Holy Spirit that carried us through. And it was the Holy Spirit that spoke and led me to Kailee!

Kailee: A Whisper, A Rescue, A Blessing

It came in the middle of the night in 2008—a gentle whisper in my spirit: “Kelle, there’s a recession out there. Horses and ponies are being abandoned. Their owners have fallen on hard times. Go see what’s out there.”

So I did.

Over the next few days, I combed through ad after ad on Craigslist—desperate pleas from people trying to rehome their animals. If they couldn’t afford their mortgage, they certainly couldn’t afford their horses. What I discovered was heartbreaking.

I made a list—900 miles, 3 days, dozens of stops. I set out early Friday morning and visited the first six. Each night, I returned home late to care for my own horses, emotionally drained but determined. Saturday brought more miles, more neglected souls. The things I saw brought me to tears.

Then came Sunday night. I found myself above Redding, in a little town called Anderson, California. There was a well-established ranch with a respected name and a kind woman who wanted better for a pony she’d once bought for her daughters. I called her, even though it was late, and apologized. I’d already seen six horses that day, from Sacramento to Oroville. I asked if it was still okay to meet Kailee.

She was in the middle of dinner, but she said yes.

When I arrived, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. The woman—gracious and warm, a schoolteacher no less—told me Kailee had been a beloved little Shetland. Her daughters had ridden her around the ranch with their friends. She was sweet, gentle, without a mean bone in her body.

So why let her go?

The woman explained that her daughters had stopped riding, and a young girl who boarded her horse next to Kailee had taken a troubling interest in her. This girl fancied herself a horse trainer—but she wasn’t. She had been taking Kailee from her stall and beating her daily. The woman had tried to intervene, even moved Kailee, but the abuse continued. She didn’t want to cause tension between her daughter and the girl, but she knew Kailee needed to be somewhere safe.

As we walked toward the stall, I saw her.

Kailee was precious—an authentic Indian Medicine Hat paint pony, all white with a brown cap, one blue eye and one brown. Kailee’s very being was overshadowed by fear. She was trembling, her body rigid, tail tucked tightly between her legs. As I approached, she didn’t try to flee. She couldn’t. She had no fight left in her.

I knelt down and tried to cradle her head in my arms. She tucked it low and continued to shake. I cried—angry, heartbroken, overwhelmed.

The woman, noticing my pain, asked for money. I didn’t have much, but I handed her $200 and promised the rest upon delivery. Thankfully, she agreed to bring Kailee to me—four hours away.

Did I mention I’d also taken in 2 other ponies from that same weekend – Lil’ Hawk and Picadilly and now, little sweet Kailee. Ten days later, Kailee arrived.

What a tribute to the little grade pony Patches, who left such a big hole in my heart that I needed to fill it with 3 others, one miniature horse and 2 ponies.

It took nearly a year for Kailee to stop shaking. She received tons of love, consistent care and expectations, never raising my hand or my voice, and never using a whip. She learned that I love her and that she is valued and that she can trust.

For the past 17 years, Kailee has been our number one pony. She’s worked every free church event and special gathering at Grateful Heart Ranch, never missing a beat. That was never my plan when I took her in—but it was God’s. He worked all things together for good, and through Kailee, He brought joy to hundreds of children.

Kailee has never left the property without me. She has learned that I am always near, watching over her. She’s never been out of my sight when others are around. She’s rewarded with treats for every little thing. And now, when I approach her, she lowers her head, buries it in my chest, and closes her eyes—she knows she is safe, she knows of no other life, just one of love in her forever home.

She is a very secure pony.

Thank you, God, for bringing me to Kailee. She is a pure blessing.

Piccadilly

A Welsh Mountain Pony...

Clairewood’s Piccadilly Circus is his breeder’s name. He is a grand champion Welch Mountain pony, as of 2026, he’s about 35 years old. He’s amazing! His color and his confirmation are the standard of perfection for a Welsh Mountain pony. He was raised at Clairewood Farms and had a beautiful life as a breeding stallion, however, he was trained by one of the finest cart-driving trainers in California. He also was showed in Hand and won 5 blue ribbons, his first season out. But by the time he was 14 his owner had developed cancer and died. 

The owner‘s husband did not know what to do with the five little stallions on their farm, so I met with him and agreed to take Piccadilly. The owner was in such hard times, losing his wife, and losing his home now, that even though I had no intentions of learning to drive a cart, I purchases his cart and harness to try to help out. I promised him I would never sell Piccadilly; He would have a forever home; he is still with us 17 years later.

He’s an amazing little guy with big doughy eyes pretty little pointy ears, four white socks, black knees, and a flat knee action movement that is as pretty as it gets. 

We were told after we took him, he was too old to be neutered that it would not be safe for a surgery of that kind at his age. Because everything at our ranch is spayed or neutered, he had to be separated from any females that we took in. This was heart wrenching, because he could not be close to any friends. We gave him the number one stall with the most space because even though he’s a Welch Mountain Pony, he thought he was a giant draft stallion. He had an attitude like nobody’s business and because he had been made fearful of male humans by the previous owner, he kicked ferociously when trying to farrier him. 

We’ve had him now well over 17 years and he’s still thriving. He hasn’t kicked for at least 15 of those years. He loves us and we have found a very rare combination playmate for him. We are able to put him with Kalliee who is a Medicine Hat Shetland Paint, one in a 100,000 and unable to be bred naturally. 

So now, Piccadilly could have his companionship and we rotate him and Kalliee to let them out to run the ranch every few days so he could keep up his top line and his zest for life. He has never been made to drive a cart or even carry a person. He is at the age now where he can only eat specialized pelleted fed and must take many supplements to ensure his quality of life. He’s just been loved. He is the oldest horse here at Grateful Heart Ranch.

Lil’ Hawk

Lil’ Hawk is an actual Miniature Horse, he’s not a pony, but he thinks he’s a big boy. He’s oh so charming and has a big show off, look at me, attitude! When he arrived here at the ranch, it was 2008. He was approximately 6 years old and already had many blue ribbons under his belt. He could pull a driving cart, carry a small rider, and do tricks, including bowing down. Did I mention he’s an ultra-picky, little guy. He will not pooh in his stall, or anywhere in his paddock, but one of those tricks included, if you put a tire at the end of the paddock, he has great aim into the tire. Making clean up a breeze!

How Lil’ Hawk came to me was a bit of a journey, a good one with a little heartache along the way! At the beginning of the recession people were dumping horses & there was no shortage of ponies that needed homes.

 Earlier that year, in the middle of the night, I went out to the stables to check on Decoda & D’Artagnan before I went home to my house in town. Sitting on top of one of the feed barrels, was a little brown bag with a note under it. In some broken scribble it said, “Here’s your horse!” I looked inside the little bag to see what this meant? I was confused. “A horse?” I really didn’t know what this meant – it was just a little bag of rocks! Suddenly, Decoda & D’Artagnan let out a large whinny! Then there was a tiny whinny that followed it. I opened the door and saw Patches; he belonged to one of my hay grower friends. His kids had apparently out-grown him and he was abandoned in a field. The hay grower had no time to take care of him. I used to sneak food to him. The grower knew it. I thought, how wonderful, now he will have lots of attention and lots of friends after 15+ years of being alone. My niece & nephew were very young, and I thought this may be a perfect pony for them to learn on. I was pleased with my little surprise!

I was blessed with little Patches for about 5 months. He became very, very sick and we fought hard for months. I learned a lot about ponies, and he learned he was very loved. When he passed away, he left a very big hole in my heart and an empty stall. I realized there were many ponies out there especially during the recession, that need someone to love & care for them. Patches led me to “Lil’ Hawk” aka “Hawky Puck.”

Hence, my road trip! It was a 975 miles trip over 2 and a half days throughout all of Northern California to find a pony that really needed a good home and would be a good fit. This being a recession, I had no idea how many desperate people were out there wanting to rehome their beloved animals. Boy, was I in for a surprise! That weekend, I committed to seeing at least 40 horses and ponies! I couldn’t agree to take just one, I took two. Lil’ Hawk was one of them.

His background is actually, a miracle. He was originally born Napa, California at Nancy Turner’s farm. He is out of Brewer’s Orion, a world class miniature horse stallion. He was born a soft red coat with a white spotted hind end, basically, a miniature Appaloosa! He had a flaxen mane and tail. He was striking! He was a Section A, show baby, winning ribbon after ribbon, in every event possible for a miniature horse. So, you can see why he is such a show off, he is used to lots of attention! He was purchased by a woman in Sacramento for show. After just a few years with him, her husband developed cancer. With many large horses to feed and a few miniature horses as well, she decided to cut costs and care/efforts in order to help her sick husband. Lil’ Hawk was placed in a pasture with large horse who did not know him.

He ended up being kicked severely in his left front knee. The owner not being able to pay for a Vet, and very tight on money, placed Lil’ Hawk in a tiny little goat stall, where he ended up being abandoned.

Eventually, in order to rehome all of her animals, as her husband got worse, she contacted Pee Wee Farms and Candy Cane Farms, both well-known miniature horse breeders, to come in and buy up her remaining miniature horses. In the deal, Lil Hawk was thrown in for free because of his hurt knee.

I had inquired about him, and drove up to go meet him as part of my weekend long journey. Both of the farms were idyllic with beautiful animals. But there was Lil’ Hawk all by himself. They told me his history and I agreed to take him in even though he was not what I was originally hoping to find because he was too small for my niece & nephew. And, his situation was not that dire. But I had a really good feeling about him and thought I could make him very happy. So, I prayed and God moved me to commit. I continued on my journey and eventually found the right pony in dire straits. A week later, Lil’ Hawk arrived in a very cute miniature horse show trailer appropriately called “The Mini Whinny”. The two ladies that dropped him off had decided he shouldn’t make the trip alone from the Ione Foothill’s down to Mountain House so they had “The Mini Whinny” filled with 3 to 4 other mini horses. I was so worried they were going to unload all of them, but they assured me it was just for Lil’ Hawk’s comfort.

When Lil’ Hawk stepped out, he had a little tiny halter on with a dog lease hanging halfway down. I thought, oh how cute! He’s that easy to handle! But what happened next is indelible in my mind and absolutely priceless! Lil’ Hawk sniffed the ground, looked over at the round pen and saw the two big horses waiting to meet him penned up in the round pen. He looked at me, smelled the ground again, and took off in a dead bolt around the entire perimeter of the property fence lines. Miss Marie was leaning out her front door to see the newcomer and all the commotion. The two ladies that delivered him were absolutely stunned! Lil’ Hawk ran like he was never injured in his life. This running around went on for over an hour! He sniffed every area of the property, somehow knowing he was free and safe.

Later that night, I introduced him to his new stall and paddock. He had a 12 x 24 ft stall with double feeders and double automatic waterers, lowered to his height, and a “just in case” bucket below the waterer. The best part for Lil’ Hawk, he thought, was the mounds and mounds of soft pine shavings filling his stall and the cute little bench for me to sit and watch him on while he rolled and rolled in the shavings. He was so happy! D’Artagnan was placed in the stall next to him, kept a close gentle watch over him. Lil’ Hawk became everybody’s friend. He is still with me 17 years later and has brought so much joy to hundreds of kids here at Grateful Heart Ranch and still likes to be the center of attention.

One more little footnote, the power of God! Three months after Lil’ Hawk arrived; I was able to afford a Vet who came out with an MRI machine. Lil’ Hawks knee had healed perfectly, no sign of an injury. God used his injury to get him to the right place. Isn’t that what He does with all of us? God uses our hurts to get us where we need to be! God never wastes a hurt!

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3

“Heal me, Lord, and I will be healed; save me and I will be saved, for you are the one I praise.” Jeremiah 17:14