Bashir Al Dirri, 2014 Saqlawi Jadran

This colt is growing into superb young stallion. He was bred by Jenny Krieg, with help from the Doyle family and their stallion Tamaam DE, out of a mare from the single rarest lines in Al Khamsa Arabians: the blood of *Euphrates, *Al-Mashoor, and *Mirage flows through his veins.

Bashir Al Dirri, 2014 Stallion

Bashir Al Dirri, 2014 Stallion?????? ????? ??? ???Tamaam DE x Sarita Bint Raj

Posted by Doyle Arabians on Wednesday, January 31, 2018

 

 

10 Replies to “Bashir Al Dirri, 2014 Saqlawi Jadran”

  1. A triumphant result of much hard work, by many dedicated people. Congratulations, Jenny Krieg!

  2. Wonderful neck and a great mover! He might be good to refresh the Mesaoud genes among the cmks..
    best
    Bruce Peek

  3. Regarding your statement that the breeding of inbred Doyle horses (or any other thoughtfully line/inbred horse) to outcross horses producing outstanding results, that is one of the main reasons for line/inbreeding of horses. They provide a strong jolt of concentrated genetics, usually bringing out the best in the outcross horse. Also, a mild to moderate hybrid vigor.

  4. You should be proud, Jenny. Getting here was not at all an easy process! Congratulations also to the Doyle family, for their part.

  5. Forgive my ramblings and let me offer my story as a didactic tale, to spare others who are vulnerable of the same fate. The videos of Bashir on the Doyle Ranch are best watched cautiously: I fear as much as Yahweh did that knowledge of such beauty threatens danger to anyone that wishes to live a simple life. As I replay the footage, I watch Bashir accelerate to a full gallop in a handful of strides, barely having to move his back and neck to achieve a breathtaking speed… to say nothing of the fact he needs only lower his head a few inches to lift his strong back, shift his weight and turn with a spray of dust beneath those gallant feet! The only word is effortless. He really does fly, yet unlike many horses there is an unquestionable, logical elegance about him. He is not long- and slow-strided, not unwieldy. Not confined by his own momentum, like the thoroughbred is at speed. He is as independent of such annoyances as if he had been made for a world without them. He runs with the knowledge of true flight on earth.

    He really is superlative. We label many things to be “poetry in motion”, but it is usually an abuse of the term; for those words were meant to refer to horses like him, and nothing else will suit. Those learned or lucky enough to understand will feel their imagination soar as Bashir lays one clever foot after another, mesmerized at his prowess beyond the point of critique. We slip willingly into a fantasy in which we cling tight to his mane as he races, carried without effort by a savant of perfect movement. It is an perilous idea, from which few who truly understand it ever recover. It sinks its teeth into anyone who will give it half a chance.

    Something about this longing must be deep and old. Do you think that our distant ancestors in their furs and hides sensed it within themselves too, stoked first by secrets hidden in the coarse frames of wild ponies? Did they crave a freedom that could not be taught, grieve silently of a loss that did not yet have a name? I have always imagined that the first painted finger on a cave wall was an act of desperation in this sense: that there exists beauty that is impossible for us to contain or understand, and that this is an agony as real as any wound.

    Above all, when watching this stallion, I think this: that motion is the final arbiter of beauty in all its forms, and that it is the quality of loveliness that is most difficult to capture. And as for the most perfect of horses… that they may tread lightly over the earth at all speeds, their feet protesting the tyrants gravity and momentum, who may stare down the constraints of being mortal and laugh joyfully, saying, “What of them?”

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