From Kill Pen to Champion: Noodle the Wonder Pony

By Riley Dennis

Hi! My name is Riley, and this is my trusty steed, Noodle. His show name is The Doodle Noodle, and over the past few years, he’s built quite the local fan club. But his journey to becoming a beloved star wasn’t smooth. It’s a story of resilience, hope, and the unshakable bond between horse and rider.

I have been riding since I was three years old, since before I could remember. My mom would take me to a local farm where they offered pony rides, where I would ride as many times as I could before my mom ran out of money. When I was six, we moved to the country, and my parents bought me my first horse. 

While growing up, my life revolved around horses and sports; I was an only child (AKA “lonely child”), so my horses were my best friends. Throughout the years, I have ridden green off-track Thoroughbreds (OTTBs), Arabians, warmbloods, and young horses, and worked with some of the best trainers our area has to offer. I would sit on anything and do everything I could to become a better rider, because riding the training horses was how I paid for lessons. Once I was old enough and had saved enough money, I bought a small piece of land to start my own training business; this is where Second Chances Farms was born. Anyway, enough about me. Here is Noodle’s story!

In 2022, I stumbled across Noodle in a kill pen in Louisiana. I was 30 weeks pregnant and had recently sold all my sale horses after learning I was expecting, but I was scrolling Facebook one evening when I saw his ad. He wasn’t the prettiest horse I’d ever seen, but something about his expression in the photo caught my eye. His video showed a beginner rider bouncing around on his back and tugging on his mouth, yet he remained unbothered. I immediately thought, “This horse is a good egg. I need him.” So, I made a decision – it was time to take a road trip from Texas to Louisiana to bring him home.

Being super pregnant, I knew I shouldn’t make the trip alone. Despite my usual independent nature, I waited a few days for someone to be available to join me. When we arrived at the kill pen, the scene was pretty sad. About 40 horses shared a two-acre pasture with a single water trough. Noodle, a small Cremello pony, stood apart from the other horses, with his nose in the dirt. Though not severely underweight, he seemed lifeless. We loaded him into the trailer and began the journey home.

About four hours into the trip, just an hour away from home, I felt him go down in the trailer. I pulled over, checked on him, and found him back up on his feet. After calling my vet, we decided to stop by their clinic on the way home. Noodle went down a few more times before we arrived. At the clinic, the vet administered fluids, and antibiotics for a respiratory infection. They warned me not to get my hopes up, but I was still going to give him a fighting chance.

When we got home, Noodle laid down and seemed uninterested in eating hay or getting up. I didn’t know if he’d survive the night. To my relief, the next morning, he was standing with a bit more energy. Over the following weeks, I gave him grain, all of the hay his little heart could ever want, and plenty of love. A small price to pay for the amount of love this horse would pour back into me and my family. His smell was atrocious – a mix of sickness and neglect – but every day, he improved. His eyes regained their sparkle, and he began playing in the pasture.

By the time Noodle was healthy enough to ride, I had just had my second child via C-section. My working student offered to do his first ride, and we discovered he barely knew the basics. He didn’t understand leg cues or the bridle. At that point, he still didn’t have a name. My student jokingly said he felt like a wet noodle to ride, and the name stuck. Noodle it was.

Four weeks after my C-section, I couldn’t resist riding; it has always been my mental escape, and I’d gone seven months without it. Though not fully healed, I saddled up Noodle and went for a ride. On one trail ride, a baby deer suddenly stumbled onto the path. I braced for a spook, but Noodle calmly carried on. At that moment, I knew I’d found a truly special partner.

As Noodle’s training progressed, life threw a curveball. I had to move and sell most of my horses, including Noodle. A buyer named Crystal fell in love with him but was hesitant due to a navicular diagnosis. We agreed on a care lease, allowing him to return to me if needed. Later, when one of my previously sold horses returned to me in poor condition, Crystal had to send Noodle back. Though unprepared for his return, I welcomed him home. A week later, I had to euthanize the other horse. Noodle’s return was absolutely a Godsend—a source of comfort during a difficult time. 

Once he was back home, I began working with a new trainer, Lauren, to help Noodle figure out his body. I had decided that he was nowhere near balanced enough to jump. I had never done dressage, so I thought, why not go on this journey with the golden boy? His “noodle-y” tendencies made dressage a challenge, but Lauren’s guidance helped me really transform him. After two months, we entered our first dressage show. Though it was a regional qualifier and we were green, Noodle impressed everyone, even earning a second-place finish in Training Level Test 3.

That show shattered my preconceived notions about dressage. Coming from the hunter-jumper world, where politics, breeding, and appearances often influence results, I was skeptical. But in dressage, correctness and partnership mattered more than pedigree or flashiness. Noodle, a kill pen pony, held his own against seasoned warmbloods.

Once we found his balance, we didn’t stop at dressage. At a local hunter-jumper show, Noodle and I finished as reserve champions in the 2’ jumpers. Despite his lack of speed, he is, after all, a ball of butter, and his willingness to please showed up. At the following dressage show, he continued to improve, earning respectable scores and showing potential for the higher levels.

At our most recent show, we debuted our First Level tests. I was mildly concerned, because we hadn’t had a chance to ride through it with Lauren, as she had recently moved to another state. But at the show, he came to give it his all. At 59%, our first test wasn’t impressive, but each time, we read the judges’ comments and came back to improve. We ended the weekend at 63.4%, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more from him. He made adjustments during each ride and gave it his all. I’m very excited to take him out this year and see just how much we can improve that score! 

Our current goals include qualifying for the Great American/USDF Regional Dressage Championships and working towards our USDF Bronze Medal scores. With every ride, Noodle proves there’s nothing he can’t achieve. He’s a testament to the idea that you don’t need a fancy horse to succeed. What matters is heart, grit, and the willingness to learn. Noodle has been diagnosed with navicular and is going blind in his right eye. But with careful maintenance and a good bond, I don’t see him letting that stop his golden boy years.

Noodle’s story is one of hope and perseverance. He reminds me that every horse, regardless of background, has potential. For those without fancy movers considering dressage, let Noodle be your inspiration. You don’t need papers, breeding, or flashy movement—just a horse with a good heart and a willingness to try.

This horse has taught me more on my journey to becoming the best horsewoman I can be than anything else – from kindness and learning to listen to the subtle things he’s telling me, to the ability to turn him into a fancy pony, I have learned countless lessons from the discarded horse that a warmblood could never teach me. This horse would walk through fire if I asked him to. 

The journey with Noodle has been nothing short of transformative. From a lifeless pony in a kill pen to a dressage extraordinaire, he’s shown what’s possible with love, care, and determination. As we prepare for the season this year, I’m excited to see what we’ll accomplish together. And if there’s one thing I hope readers take away, it’s this: never underestimate the power of giving a second chance—it might just change your life.