Tamar was the greatest horse I ever knew in my life and she lived 40 years. One time we got bogged on the state park land. It had rained constantly for weeks then a perfect beautiful day so I went riding. We rode through the forest down the red clay hills into a little forested bowl of a valley. Suddenly I was standing on the ground but I was still on the horse. Quicksand! I sort of crawled out on my belly, but then went back to her. I could reach way down through the mud and a tree root was across her knees. I took off a spur and using the rowl like a knife I desparately rubbed and rubbed and cut the root. She struggled again but could not make any progress. She would struggle and rest struggle and rest.
Finally the sun was getting low and night would be coming soon. I pulled up her lip and her gums were blue she was going into shock. I knew I had to somehow find help. I ran through the forest until I came to a road, then ran down the road. A Forest Ranger stopped and I told him about my horse. He called on his radio for help. Then a call came back from a cowboy who was driving nearby who quickly arrived with a rope. We all went down the hills through the woods a long way. I imagined my mare was probably dead by then. I was happy to see her with up pricked ears and she nickered. She had been able to rest and was stronger. The cowboy got his rope down around her butt and tied one end to a tree and the three of us pulled mightily. This gave her something to push against, make some progress and we would take up the slack. She lunged forward a few more times then stood up. Well goll damn, the cowboy said, Thats a good lookin mare.