Chamor: A Messenger of Hope

Tonight, in many homes throughout the world, the fourth candle on the menorah will be lit, marking the halfway point during the happy season of Hanukkah. In one week, we will be celebrating Christmas, followed by Kwanzaa and finally, we will say goodbye to 2025 and embrace all the hope that the coming New Year 2026 wil bring. 

"Chamor" is the Hebrew name for "donkey" and at this festive time of year, the donkey is central to many of the stories that have been passed from one generation to another. Without getting very sentimental or even, religious; the donkey is considered by many people of the Christian faiths to have carried a pregnant Mary on his back, as she and Joseph journeyed to Bethlehem, to participate in a census of that time. In many nativity scenes, the donkey is one of the pieces we add to this beloved pastoral setting. It was also a donkey, who carried Jesus thirty-three years later, when he entered Jerusalem, leading to his passion and Resurrection. 

In one of my favorite books, When Elephants Weep: The Emotional Lives of Animals by Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson and Susan McCarthy, within the chapter titled A Capacity For Joy, the authors write, 

"One of the many signs by which joy in animals can be recognized is vocalization."   

and while the sound of braying in the above video is the more obvious sign of the "vocalization" of joy; notice how the donkey uses more silent joyful gestures like an embrace, the closed eyes, the deeper and quieter sounds of contentment, as the donkey proceeds to rub his head all over the girl. 

For 2000+ years, Jews have remembered the great miracle that happened in the rededication of the second temple in Jerusalem, as they light each candle on their menorah for eight nights.  A single flame, providing both warmth and light, connects our past with our present. We live in dark times, surrounded by similar feelings of uncertainty, fear, loss, sorrow, grief. Possibly, many of the same feelings that Jews experienced during the Maccabean revolt in the Second Century BC. Hanukkah brings unexplainable light into the dark and with the light, comes a glimmer of hope. It is symbolically similar for Chamor, the donkey, who long ago carried hope into the darkened streets of Bethlehem and from there, the world. It is my hope that a video of a joyful Chamor (my fourth candle), will inspire you with hope and provide for you a similar glimmer of light and joy, into what may be a darker world than you are used to living in. 

Chag Sameach to all of my Jewish brothers and sisters.

An Odyssey of Joy

If only I had a horse. I have lost count of the many times that I have said or thought these same exact words. Maybe hundreds, thousands, millions of times? If only I had a horse, I would be so happy and that happiness, would trickle into other parts of my life. I would have tons of friends and a full engagement calendar to prove it. My sales would be off the charts, driven by customers who hoped that some of my happiness would rub off on them too. And with all that new found money, guess what I could buy? 

Horses, lots of horses.

if only, 

if only, 

if only.

I was getting desperate and dare I say, older. I was starting to believe that owning a horse would never happen for me. Or happen within the years that I would be physically healthy to enjoy them.

The thermometer barely registered 15 degrees Fahrenheit. It was a bitter cold December morning. My hands ached. I drove them deeper into the pockets of my coat, searching for any warmth I could find in them. Even though I dislike wearing a mask, I was grateful for the protection it gave my nose and lips. Last night's snowfall, now frozen hard, crunched under my boots, as I carefully navigated the unshoveled stretches of sidewalk.  It was Christmas time and festive lights twinkled all over town but deep inside, nothing made me joyful. I felt really down. I did everything I knew, to keep myself healthy, virus-free and working. I had worked harder than I have ever worked before and was not any better financially, than I was last Christmas. How could I even think about horses? I thought of all the bills that I needed to pay in a few weeks and my stomach started churning. A horse, really?

My boss was an intimidating man. He always got what he wanted and he was willing to do whatever he needed to do, to get it. He had been riding me hard, as my current sales were falling short of my forecasted budget. "Your sales are not impressive and your pipeline isn't any better. Unless you do something about it, and do it fast, we are going to be having a different kind of conversation." he said.

"Pressure, pushing down on me, Pressing down on you,  no man ask for, Under pressure"-from the song, Under Pressure written by David Bowie and Queen

My head was spinning. "Doesn't he understand the lockdown and the effect it is having on everything, including my sales?" The fact was that my sales were almost 90% to budget; a worthy accomplishment on its own, in terms of the new growth which cushioned the devastating economic impact of the spring lockdown. It had been a long, challenging year and frankly, I just wanted to get past Christmas and into what I hoped, would be a more prosperous new year.

I heard him before I could see him. "C'mon baby....let's go!" he shouted at her. He slapped the reins hard against her back and she sprang forward, digging her hooves into the slushy muck, every muscle in her powerful body straining, until finally, the carriage started moving. She was a dark bay mare, a little over 16 hands tall, with powerful shoulders, a strong, wide back and a well-muscled hindquarter.  She really didn't look like a carriage horse. I thought she looked more like one of the crossbred sport horses advertised in the English riding magazines. She was beautiful and her body just screamed to be ridden. I picked up the pace and soon, I had caught up with the carriage. Now that I was closer, I could see that the mare looked tired, cold and hungry. "She's no carriage horse." I thought.

The carriage driver was an older man, about 70-something, maybe a little older. "Hey mister, how much for a ride?" I asked. He turned to face me. "Where you headed?" I noticed the twinkle in his eye and a faint smile spreading across his face. "500 Market Street, right at the corner of Broad." I told him. He looked at me intently, as if he was studying every feature on my face. "10 bucks, not a penny less." he said. I dove deep into my pockets and pulled out a ten dollar bill and gave it to him. He nodded at me, tipped his top hat and then, he patted the empty seat next to him. "C'mon up and sit here next to me kid. I want to talk with you but do me a favor and take that ridiculous thing off your face. There's no virus here. I scrub this carriage clean in the morning and then again at night. In the old days, a fella who covered his face spelled trouble, for an old guy driving a coach like me."  I pulled the band of my face mask from around my left ear, as I jumped up into the carriage and sat down next to him. "You on your way to work, kid?" he asked me. I nodded, while my stomach turned. "I know how you feel kid, I know how you feel. This cold weather, well, it's hard on an old man. I'm cold all the time. No matter what I do, I'm just cold.  And now, this virus. No one wants to take a ride anymore. What's an old guy to do? Well, I'll tell you something. I want some warmth and kindness for these old bones.  You know, my sister has been trying for years to get me to retire. She's got a cute little place in Cocoa Beach.  You know about it?" I shook my head. "Well, it's all about palm trees, blue sunny skies and no worries.  Yup, I really think it's time." he said and then he asked me, "so, what time is it for you? Looks like you are about ready for a change too." The mare turned her head around to look at me and then,  I noticed the shape of  the star on her forehead. It looked like a "thumbs-up". I couldn't believe it and I laughed. "You think it's funny to move to Florida?" he asked. "No sir, I just noticed the shape of your mare's marking, on her forehead. It looks like.."  "a thumbs up", he said. His horse nickered to me and SUDDENLY, what I had been thinking, illuminated into an idea and from there, a plan.

"Hey kid, I think she likes you. That's my Joy, always flirting with the boys." he chuckled to himself. I looked at my watch...quarter past seven. Time was running out and I needed to be in the office in a little more than an hour. "Hey mister, it sounds like you are ready to make a change in your life and well, meeting you and Joy this morning, makes me think that I need to do something different too. So how 'bout it, are you up for sunny Florida and a change?" I asked him, summoning up every bit of courage I could and hoping that this quickly concocted plan would work. Many dollars later plus, a first class ticket to Florida and I was the proud owner of Joy, a draft cross mare with a "thumbs-up" mark on her forehead. 

When the driver had pulled the harness off of her, it was hard not to miss the loud sigh of relief that came from a place deep down inside of her. Her head rubbed my chest, her sweet breath making me feel both warm and wonderful. As the realization of something much larger than I could ever imagine hit me. The image of the carriage driver's face popped into my head. "I thought there was something really familiar about the guy. I just knew it! And it wasn't because he looked like Peter Falk either." I laughed at the thought, as I saw a picture of Columbo, his trademarked trench coat with angel wings, in my mind. My heart, which had been so weighed down with discouragement only a few moments before, became happier, lighter and dare I say, joyful?  "Did I just experience a little miracle and could that driver have been an angel in disguise, sent down from heaven to help me this morning?" I asked myself. "That's another thing too. he kept calling me kid." I smiled, after all, it was Christmas and don't we all become more like children at Christmas? I really felt the holiday spirit or better said, I felt joyful, when a few minutes earlier, I was discouraged, all hope lost. I  shook my head, trying to shake myself back to reality. "Gosh, I am starting to sound like I have been watching one too many Hallmark Christmas movies but I met this guy out of nowhere and now, I have the one thing I have always desired, since I was a child. "If only..." had suddenly materialized into real and tangible joy. It was not exactly how I expected horse ownership to happen for me, here, on a cold and dark city street. However, that's what made it so....miraculous! I felt like singing at the top of my lungs, for all the world to hear that Joy, has finally found me this Christmas, all for the love of a horse!

****This is a fictional story that I wrote a long time ago, maybe in 2008 or 2009. Fast forward to 2021, I revised the story, to include a Christmas setting. Many thanks to you dear reader for visiting the blog in 2025. I am grateful for your support.  At this time of the year, regardless of who and what you believe in, I hope that when you look at an Arabian horse and become overwhelmed by the horse's beauty, that you also stop for a brief second to also recognize the Creator of the universe and the kindness of the Creator to gift this most wonderful horse to us. Happy Holidays.***

Bint Fa Dena

Bint Fa Dena (*Ansata Ibn Halima x Fa Dena), photographed at Bentwood Farm, by the late Johnny Johnston

Mrs. George Fox of Rogers, Arkansas bred the Babson Farm-bred mare, Fa Dena, to *Ansata Ibn Halima which produced the filly, Bint Fa Dena, foaled in 1966. Bint Fa Dena became an important mare for Mrs. Fox, who also owned the stallion, Daaldan. No surprise that these 2 horses would be bred together, to produce Bint Daaldan in 1970 and the colts: Daalden in 1971 and Sar Amir Daaldan in 1972. Bint Daaldan was sold to Albert Guilbault and became a significant cornerstone of the Abitibi breeding program. Bred to newer Egyptian horses, she produced valuable mares like Abitibi Zamana and her daughter, Abitibi Madeena, from which, horses like Safeen have emerged. Robert Cowling, who had purchased Bint Fa Dena from Mrs. Fox,

 chose to breed her once more to Daaldan, producing Fa Daalim in 1973, an exceptional black stallion and foundation sire for Marilyn Lang of Fantasia Arabians, in Sealy, Texas. The following year, 1974, Bint Fa Dena, who had been bred to *Morafic, produced a grey mare, Sar Morafa, a prolific mare, BB Serrasab among her progeny.  Like her dam, Bint Fa Dena would find her way to Jarrell McCracken, who bred the mare exclusively to *Ibn Moniet el Nefous, producing a lovely mare named Monadena, who, when bred to *Ansata Ibn Halima, produced the mare Halima's Legacy, a significant broodmare for Sherry Moseley, having produced SES Bint Fabo, who in turn foaled SES Nadira.

The Coincidence Narratives

Bint Tuhotmos (*Tuhotmos x *Gazbeya)

I'm really not sure why I chose the most inopportune time to look through the third volume of the Reference Handbook. I almost didn't do it, as what little remained of my attention, was already divided into bits and pieces and it didn't really seem like a good idea, considering the rapidly disappearing day and the monster-sized list of seasonal tasks still waiting to be done but I couldn't fight the nagging feeling anymore. For some crazy, unexplained reason, I felt that I was being nudged, in the direction of the Handbook. At this point in my life, I have learned that there are no coincidences and so, there I was, page-by-page, lost amongst the most beautiful horses in the world. It wasn't until I was halfway through the book, that I stumbled upon Bint Tuhotmos, who seemed to jump right off the page.  While the beauty of *Tuhotmos was widely recognized, *Tuhotmos was a critically important sire within the EAO breeding program, actually, he was the number one stallion at the EAO and still, I find it amazing that Rick Heber of Ranchara Arabians was able to purchase the horse. I acknowledge Rick and Ann's efforts to acquire *Tuhotmos, had it not been for them, this beautiful mare would not exist. 

Joe Linzer posted this photo in 2012. It was from an advertising pamphlet he had at the time.

Bint Tuhotmos' dam, *Gazbeya, was sired by the Balance son, Nasralla and out of the El Sareei daughter, Hagir, whose matriline runs back to El Dahma, through the dam of Sid Abouhom, Layla. She shares much common ground maternally with not only the Bukra horses but the Babson *Bint Bint Sabbahs too. The combination of *Tuhotmos with *Gazbeya not only doubles the influence of El Sareei, it also triples the influence of Shahloul!

Razaman (Ansata Shah Zaman x Raalima)

I continued turning pages, finding familiar horses, until I came to a screeching halt, when I arrived at the photo of Razaman, a 1971 grey stallion, bred by the late Robert Cowling. He was sired by Ansata Shah Zaman (*Morafic x *Ansata Bint Mabrouka) and out of Raalima (*Ansata Ibn Halima x Asal Sirabba). Asal Sirabba, a 1958 grey mare, bred by Mrs. John E. Ott, was sired by Sirecho and out of the Babson mare, Habba. By virtue of her pedigree, she is representative of the type of horse that defined the breeding program of Prince Mohamed Aly Tewfik.

Raalima

Raalima was Asal Sirabba's 1967 daughter by *Ansata Ibn Halima. Raalima was a prolific mare for Bentwood Farm, producing daughters by the stallions, *Ibn Moniet El Nefous, The Egyptian Prince and Shaikh Al Badi. Among those daughters are AK Shahlima, Bint Raalima, AK Tarifa, AK Zayaadah, Thamin Amira, Latifa Raqqasa and Our Kibriya.

Imagine my surprise to learn that Bint Tuhotmos was bred to Razaman, producing the 1980 grey mare, DW Miriya for Dr. Marvin Ginsburg, Desert Wind Arabians. It really doesn't happen like this for me, to find two horses that I really like, who were bred together, resulting in a mare to carry the line forward. DW Miriya was bred to Moniet El Sharaf, producing the full sisters and proven broodmares,  DW Shamar in 1984 and DW Shara in 1985. It's interesting to learn that the  sisters were bred to stallions (DW Dar Essalam & DW Ali Kaliph) who are out of  maternal siblings to Razaman, intensifying the bloodline of Asal Sirabba, as well as furthering the influence of Moniet el Nefous, through additional lines to *Ibn Moniet El Nefous. DW Miriya was also bred to Nabiel, producing DW Monsoon, a grey stallion in 1986.

 DW China Doll, the 1991 DW Ali Kaliph (Ruminaja Ali x Bint Raalima) daughter, out of DW Shara, foaled a son by TT Sabor, a GG Samir son out of a *Nabor daughter who also combines *Raseyn blood with that of *Raffles, via the Alice Payne breeding program. Given my interest in the Asil Arabians breeding program, what was that about coincidences again?

Joy for the Season

"We three kings of Orient are
Bearing gifts we traverse afar."-from the lyrics of the song, We Three Kings, written by Rev. John Henry Hopkins

Melchior cantered into the darkness, away from his camp, where his friends lay sleeping. It was early morning and by all appearances, still night. The cool morning air rushed past his face and the sound of the wind filled his ears, blocking all other sounds. He needed to be alone, to meditate and to pray. So, he drove his horse farther into the desert than he had planned. His mind was troubled and he felt better, comforted even, out in the wilderness, under the night sky, with nothing between him and God. His prayers felt stronger out here, as they made their way to God's ears. So much had happened, since leaving his home, to follow the star. He would return to Persia,  a changed man spiritually, committed to living a new life, all because of the joy that he had discovered in Bethlehem. Prior to starting his journey, he had complained that life as he knew it, had become stale, tedious and well, joyless. He wanted to electrify his life and in Bethlehem, he found the spark that ignited a raging bonfire within his heart.  He could not erase the image of the little child's eyes. The memory haunted him. As he reached the top of the hill's rise, he brought his mare, Magilia to a stop. Unconsciously, he rubbed her affectionately on her neck. Melchior loved his mare and he was grateful for her presence on this dark morning. Magilia was exquisite. Her beauty was outstanding and throughout this journey, Melchior had been on edge, as word of the mare's unrivaled beauty started to spread ahead of his caravan's path. He expected a raid at any moment by one of the horse-breeding tribes and Magilia would be the highly coveted prize. While making ready, Melchior had been undecided as to whether he would risk Magilia's safety on this journey and lose her forever. He couldn't bear the thought of life without her but he also couldn't bear separation for any extended period of time. Finally, he decided that he must bring her, for this was no ordinary trip. Melchior had known her dam, who was revered for her red hot speed.  Many successful race horses were produced from this family of horses. Melchior had bargained with Magilia's breeder, a Bedouin Shaikh, who was like a brother to him. On a long ago night, the Shaikh had  been bitten by a sand viper and Melchior, with his powerful understanding of alchemy, had saved the Shaikh from the jaws of death. Their relationship had grown stronger since then. The Shaikh had bred Magilia to be an important part of his stud and had planned to keep her but finally, Melchior's offer of one hundred and fifty camels, a promising stud colt, fifty donkeys, two hundred and fifty ewes, three renowned sight hounds and two hundred and fifty sacks of  jasmine rice proved too irresistible for the Shaikh. He thought of this, all the while he stood in the same spot, twirling Magilia's mane round and round his finger. Anything to distract him from all the thoughts which troubled his mind and his heart. From out of nowhere, a woman's voice whispered into his ears. "Why do you doubt all that you have seen?" she asked and continued, "He is whom the prophecy has foretold." He placed his hand on Magilia's neck and turned in the saddle to face the woman but no one was there. He looked to his left and then, to his right but no one was there.  "Who is out there? Who has just spoken?" he asked. "show yourself!"

All was silent. 

And then, from nowhere, the voice returned to say, "Melchior, it is I, Magilia, who speaks with you."

MAGILIA?????

"Melchior, I have been your companion on this journey to follow the star which your people have been studying for a long time. You know the prophecy well and have spent your life, studying and preparing for the moment in which the star would reveal the glory of God to you. Yet, you have become trapped by the science of the study and somehow, despite witnessing His glory, the simple message has become lost. You have been blessed with the opportunity to witness His glory. He is who He said He is.

Melchior was stunned. He looked at Magilia. His beautiful mare, so exquisite in her beauty was not only speaking to him but she spoke with a wisdom one would never expect from a horse. She turned her head to the left, to face Melchior, aware of the thought in his mind. He couldn't think, he couldn't speak, he couldn't fathom what was happening to him now. All Melchior could do, in this moment, was to pray...in thanksgiving.

God had blessed him, profoundly.  

And the gift was underscored in Magilia! He thought for a long time. He thought of the visit with the child and also, with His Mother, who appeared initially concerned and skeptical over the Magi visit. "Men from the east? Magi? Who has sent you and what do you want with my son?" she demanded of them. She was sure that King Herod was behind all of this and had sent his henchmen to hurt her son, possibly even kill Him. Melchior assured her that his group, his caravan, meant her son no harm. He explained the star prophecy and of their desire to meet and worship the little King, whose coming had been foretold for ages in his country. Once again, he thought of the child and of his private visit with Him. And he thought of the miracle that he personally witnessed. Melchior couldn't understand how it was possible that the baby could change his physical appearance into that of a middle-aged man, right before his eyes. He also detected a bit of sadness which resided deeply in His eyes. As if there was a great tragedy that only the Child knew about. He was lost in his thoughts and had not noticed the growing brightness which illuminated  the spot where he stood. Suddenly, a thousand voices broke out in song, with voices so beautiful, so melodious, like nothing he had ever heard before. Melchior was startled. He suddenly found himself looking deeply into the eyes of the child and his mind heard the words that the child said to him, "do not be troubled Melchior, for everything is as you have seen and heard, all for the glory of God. Your faith will now direct you, to where you need to go. Prepare the way for my coming. Go now and tell others all that you have seen and spread my glory far and wide, bringing joy to all who will listen." Melchior cried deeply with a joy so enormous, that he felt he would explode. With a new perspective, he thought of all that he experienced over the last few days and understood the message that God was sending to him. We are all connected to each other, through the glorious love of God. And, personally, it was so simple to understand that Melchior almost had missed the message. For that, he thanked Magilia, who was as beautiful inside, as she was on the outside. Yes, he would return to Persia a changed man, to testify to the glory of God's love, all for the love of a horse.

Ann Hatchett-Sprague is the artist who created: Nejd Lady. When I first saw this painting, I couldn't think of a more perfect "Magi-lia."

                       Best wishes for a joyous holiday season.

Fadl Starr

Fadl Starr (Ibn Fa-Serr x Bah Roufa), photo by JR Kendall

This particular photo of Fadl Starr, a 1970 bay stallion, bred by the Babson Farm was posted by Marcie Partlow on Facebook. Her father, the late Marshall Partlow, was on assignment at the Babson Farm for an article he was writing for the Arabian Horse Times, when the photo was taken. 

Fadl Starr, foaled in 1970, is a straight Babson Egyptian stallion. Meaning, in all the lines of his pedigree, he traces only to the horses imported by Henry Babson, from Egypt, in 1932. In Fadl Starr's pedigree, he traces to 4 of the 6 horses imported. Genetically, he is interesting because the combination of two of the imported Egyptian horses (*Fadl & *Bint Serra I) represent a major chunk of the pedigree, approximately 62.5%. However, when you factor in the additional line to *Fadl (Fabah) and the line to his full sister, *Maaroufa, the percentage of *Fadl, as a son of Ibn Rabdan and out of Mahroussa (with and without *Bint Serra I)  grows to 56.25% , while *Bint Serra I remains at 31.25% . While the dominating force of the pedigree is *Fadl, the concentration of *Bint Serra I makes up for the fact that in straight Babson Egyptian form, her matriline no longer exists. Also, in Babson breeding, you will more often encounter the presence of *Bint Serra I via the stallion, Fay-el-Dine. It is noteworthy that we do not find any Fay-el-Dine in the pedigree of Fadl Starr. The only bloodline that remains outside of *Fadl and *Bint Serra I, is the one line to *Bint Bint Sabbah, a Baiyad daughter out of Bint Sabah. 

Outside of *Bint Serra I and *Fadl? Did I just write that? While *Bint Bint Sabbah's appearance in the pedigree  is confined to one line (12.5%),  her sire, Baiyad, by Mabrouk Manial  and out of Bint Gamila, is paternally connected with Mahroussa, a Mabrouk Manial daughter and the dam of both *Fadl and *Maaroufa, who incidentally are both sired by Ibn Rabdan, a Bint Gamila son. And Kazmeen, the sire of Bint Sabah, is a son of Sotamm, the sire of *Bint Serra I! So, at first glance, someone might mistake *Bint Bint Sabbah as a source of outside blood, distinct from *Fadl and *Bint Serra I  but a deeper dive reveals that she is not. Her connection to the ancestral elements in *Fadl's, *Bint Serra's and *Maaroufa's pedigree is not only amazing, it will overwhelm you, when you stop to consider how closely related these horses are.

Fadl Starr was sold by the Babson Farm as a yearling colt and was owned for most of his life by Carolyn Collets of Asala Arabians in Ohio. As a mature horse, he was with the late David & Sara Jones of Illinois. He remains the only Babson stallion, who was leased back to the Babson Farm for breeding after being sold. An interesting horse, connected with equally interesting people, who lived a most interesting life, which continues to interest others who dream of all the possibilites, all for the love of a horse.

When Strength Meets Beauty

The 1962 Abla daughter, *Rashika, sired by Anter, from The Pyramid Society's Reference Handbook, Volume II

The 1953 grey EAO mare, Abla, was "a very classic, pretty-headed and strong-bodied Nazeer daughter," wrote Judith Forbis. Abla was double Mansour (Gamil Manial x Nafaa el Saghira), as her sire, Nazeer, was a Mansour son, while her maternal granddam, Bint Farida, was a Mansour daughter. I suspect this is the reason for Abla's strong and compact body, given that Mansour was a masculine type stallion, both powerful and correct. Abla was also beautiful, as was her dam, Helwa. In Authentic Arabian Bloodstock Volume II, we learn that General Pettko Von Szandtner wrote of Helwa, "very noble head with beautiful expressive eyes." In his wonderful book, The Egyptian Alternative, Volume II, Philippe Paraskevas says, "it makes every sense to outcross Dahman Faridas with Anter for his non-Dalal Saklawi tail female blood, and to reintroduce the best of the Ibn Rabdan male line." Anter, bred by the Inshass Stud, was sired by Hamdan, an Ibn Rabdan son and a maternal grandson of Radia. His dam Obeya, by Mekdam, was a maternal great-great-granddaughter of Radia, who contributes approximately 16% of her genetic influence to Anter. In his latest book, The Arabian Horse – Nature’s Creation and the Art of Breeding, Dr. Hans Nagel says of nickability, "This occurs when a certain sire and a certain mare always produce perfectly nice foals. This is called “good nickability." Over time, we have learned that Anter and Abla, nicked well together but one must look under the surface to learn a not so obvious reason. Abla carries a high percentage of Mansour blood, while Anter carries a larger percentage of Radia, maybe, the so called "nick" of Anter and Abla had more to do with the genetic impact of combining higher percentages of Mansour and Radia together. Abla produced 11 foals in her breeding career, before her death at the age of 20 in 1973. The majority of Abla's foals were sired by Anter, which includes the 1962 grey mare pictured, *Rashika, imported by the late Don Ford in 1972. I don't believe that *Rashika produced any foals in her lifetime, as I found none recorded in the resources available to me.