"Hold Your Horses" - Original Oil Painting

Artist : Renee Gould

Oil on stretched canvas in dark wood floater frame. 2025

Features cowgirl, Jillian Schlamp
Alberta

I come from a Mennonite background and was born in Santa Cruz, Bolivia, in a colony where life was simple—no electricity, just horse and buggy. My family moved to Canada when I was one, so I don’t remember much of that early life, but the stories and values from those roots still shape me. My love for animals—especially horses—runs deep on both sides of my family. My uncle, for instance, rode the family horse, Queen, to school at age three, even climbing up her tail to mount her. She was part of the family until a mad bull tragically ended her life, a loss we all felt deeply.

My mom had a love for horses too, though back then they were seen as a means of work, not for pleasure. I, on the other hand, saw horses as something magical. Growing up in Canada, I begged my dad constantly for one. Eventually, he gave in—he built a fence, bought a Standardbred mare in foal, and even built a buggy, just like he had back in Bolivia. That mare could run, and I still tear up remembering the feeling of racing her across the field. Years later, I tracked down that same buggy after it had been in an accident. My dad restored it, and now it sits proudly in my possession—a piece of our history I’ll never let go.

Later, he bought me a gelding who became my teacher and my partner. I adored him. But like many teens, my focus shifted, and when my dad saw I wasn’t spending time with the horses, he sold them. That chapter ended, but I always knew I’d come back to horses.

As an adult, I married Trent—and when the opportunity came up, I bought an Appaloosa he’d known. She was high-strung, but I was determined to make it work. I had a horse again, and that’s all that mattered. She was with me through the births of our first four children and taught me so much. Eventually, I sold her and, with Trent’s encouragement, trained a horse of my own for the first time. That horse, Mercedes, became exactly what I had hoped for—steady, kind, and the perfect partner for both me and my children.

Now, I watch my daughters grow into their own horsewomen. I try not to push, only to encourage and support them in finding their own connection with horses. Jillian is gentle, soft-handed, and incredibly courageous, despite living with a significant vision impairment that can’t be corrected. Horses are where she feels most confident, and I’ll always do what I can to nurture that.

Alice is fearless and fast—she dreams of becoming a jockey and loves training her spirited little pony, even if he’s a challenge to catch. Watching her confidence grow in the saddle fills me with pride.

We may not own land or a large herd, but we make the most of what we have. Horses are central to our lives. They’ve taught us patience, resilience, and love in ways no classroom ever could. I try to pass those lessons on to my children—along with the belief that horsemanship is about respect, responsibility, and connection, no matter who you are or where you come from.