The Man In Nambé Who Loves Horses

By Carol Mell, 6-08-07

	Caption: George Arrietta gets a hug from Cookie at home in her stable Nambé, New Mexico

I went looking in Nambe for an old-fashioned cowboy, but on that score George Arrietta admitted to more hat than cattle. Not that he is a show-off, he just doesn’t have any cows. Arrietta is a philosophical man who enjoys his solitude and his horses.

“I guess you’d say I’m more of a horseman than a cow-boy,” said Arrietta, at home in the beautiful house where he has lived as a caretaker for Cindy Ewing and five horses since 1991. “I don’t really care much for cows.”

With a permit from Pojoaque Pueblo, Arrietta often steers his mount across the road to tribal lands where, with his two blue heeler pups keeping up the rear, he can ride mile after empty mile.

“I love horses, working with them,” he said. “There’s a saying I like that goes, ‘The outside of a horse is good for the inside of a man.’ ‘’

Arrietta was looking for a stable 15 years ago when he noticed that the empty house on N.M. 503 with a nice barn and corral was occupied again.

Ewing remembered her first meeting with Arrietta.

“George rode up the driveway on a white horse with a little black colt trailing along,” she said. “He was looking for a place to keep his horses. I said as long as he fed them and took care of them that was fine.”

Ewing travels frequently leaving the house empty. Soon, Arrietta moved onto the property to look after things.

Arrietta and I sat on the back porch shaded by towering cottonwoods and an acequia burbling just a few feet away.
As a youngster, he said he helped round up cattle near his birthplace in Tucumcari with one Don Pablo Benavidez.

“That’s hot, dry work, but that’s where I got interested in horses,” he said.

Later, his father talked him out of rodeo work.

“My dad said if I wanted to ride rodeo I better have plenty of money for the event fees and be prepared to come home broke.”

Tucumcari, he said, seems deserted now. He’s been back recently for two funerals and feels it’s a shame the railroad doesn’t go through there anymore. It had a nice depot. His father moved the family to Los Alamos in 1955.

Arrietta grew up to be a carpenter doing cement, finish work and framing in Los Alamos, White Rock, and Española until he got so burned out that, as he put it, he doesn’t care if he ever picks up a hammer again. He helps out with a family septic service business in Pojoaque. His two daughters, five grandsons and one very new granddaughter all live in Nambe or Pojoaque.

“My grandkids help me realize I’m not getting any younger,” Arrietta mused. “The most important thing is one’s health and well-being. After four boys, I’m looking forward to watching my granddaughter grow up.”

Like aged wine, Arrietta has mellowed.

“I’ve been in plenty of fights when I was young. I wouldn’t take anything from anybody. Now, I don’t drink. I had to give that up years ago. I enjoy being alone. I don’t have to ask permission. My heart is clear and happy.”

In the corral, Arrietta was playful with the horses, teaching them tricks like a dog. “Give me a hug,” he said to Cookie, his chestnut mare. “Shake hands.” While I was watching, another horse pulled my water bottle from my back pocket.

Evenings alone, he feeds the horses then goes out to eat or fixes something simple at home. He said he doesn’t care for Santa Fe at all anymore.

“I have seen a lot of changes. The last 30 or 40 years have brought growth in the valley, the road is always going, and the highway is always congested. In a way, I think it’s good because it helps people work. Here at Cindy’s, we’ve gone from a gravel road to a paved road. We don’t have dust now, but we have more traffic. Sometimes, I think there is a lot that shouldn’t go there, but the growth has put food on my table.”

More change is coming. The Ewing house, with its guesthouse, two studios, views of the Truchas Peaks and room for horses, is up for sale. That, of course, means that Arrietta and his horses and dogs may have to go looking for new digs.

“I don’t worry. I’ve got enough gray hairs,” Arrietta said. “My dad told me once I wouldn’t amount to anything if I had regrets or stored up anger— that it would ruin me. There’s good in bad and bad in good. I have no reason for ill feelings or bad thoughts. We’ll just see what happens. I think it would be neat to hook up my horse trailer and go ride somewhere I haven’t been before.”

Into the sunset, maybe?