Kellie Kvern
For Kellie Kvern, the phrase “I’m going to the barn” has been the steady rhythm of her life. From childhood games with Breyer horses galloping down staircases to photographing racehorses at some of the world’s most storied tracks, her journey has always returned to horses.
Kellie picked up her first 35mm film camera in high school, determined to become a National Geographic photographer by the age of twenty-two. While that dream is still unfolding, her photography career has taken her across the globe and into the pages of Horse Illustrated, Young Rider, Hoof Beats Magazine, Afar Travel Magazine, and The Guardian. She has worked as an assistant photographer for Coady Photography at Churchill Downs and Keeneland, and as the lead photographer at Presque Isle Downs.
Her passion for horses has carried her well beyond the camera. While studying Fine Art in Beijing, she arranged programs in Inner and Outer Mongolia to work with breeders and racers of Mongolian Ambling horses. She trained at the Yorkshire Riding Centre in England, earning up to British Horse Society Level 4.
Now based in her home state of Minnesota, Kellie continues to merge artistry, horsemanship, and compassion. At home, she cares for her family and a colorful menagerie that includes eight rescue horses, two dogs, and two birds. Whether behind the lens, in the saddle, or simply “at the barn,” Kellie’s life is defined by a deep devotion to capturing and caring for the animals who inspire her most.
Nickki Dombrock
Boba Tea
Boba Tea is a spotted, slightly pudgy pony of mysterious heritage—part POA, part puzzle, possibly part gremlin. When I first met him, he was the angriest little horse I’d ever seen. Not fearful, not confused—just mad. He’d been “cowboy trained” to tolerate anything—tarps, traffic, hardware store rides—but what he’d really learned was how to shut down. Sold to an elderly man expecting an easy ride, Boba quickly stopped cooperating. When the crop and spurs came out, his refusals turned to bucks. His spirit wasn’t broken—it was boiling over.
I’d handled him enough to know the truth: Boba Tea wasn’t bad. He was starving for connection. So I bought him. The first time I tried to lunge him, he nailed me in the thigh—not in fear, just sheer “leave me alone.” I sat down and cried—not from pain, but from the weight of what he carried and the road ahead. So we slowed everything down. One step. One pat. One breath at a time.
Months later, Boba trots happily under saddle. We’re not cantering yet—let’s not be ridiculous—but he meets me at the gate and follows me around the barn like a nosy little brother. His eyes no longer burn with anger; now they hold curiosity, sometimes even calm. In the @Liberty program, Boba Tea teaches patience and repair, reminding us that anger is often just loneliness in armor—and that every tough little soul deserves someone willing to see past it.
Loki is a retired Thoroughbred who once raced at Canterbury Park in Minnesota. As a three-year-old, he showed promise, but not quite enough speed to capture the industry’s attention but enough heart to capture mine.
Now at sixteen, Loki continues to be a quiet teacher. Loki is curious, observant, and always keeps track of the world around him. He isn’t nervous or reactive, just calmly aware. People who meet him are struck by his gentle, grounded presence. Sweet, wise, and steady, he radiates a kind of peace that invites you to slow down and breathe.
Yet beneath that softness lies surprising courage. Loki is often the one who steps up to lead the trail ride, the one who puzzles out a new challenge without fuss. His intelligent eyes tell the story of a horse who has become both teacher and friend.
Loki models calm observation, quiet trust, and the strength of stillness. He shows us that true leadership doesn’t need to be loud—and that sometimes the most unassuming horses are the ones holding everything together.
Sharky (registered name Arthurian Legend)
Sharky is a 15-year-old Standardbred gelding, a former harness racehorse who once worked hard as a trotter. Over the course of 30 starts, he earned $11,249—not a fortune in racing, but enough to show his grit and willingness. Like so many horses once their racing careers end, Sharky’s future became uncertain. Without the safety net of a long-term plan, he eventually fell onto hard times.
By the time rescuers found him, Sharky was in a kill pen—starved, neglected, and with little hope for what might come next. Yet even in those dark days, there was still a spark in his eye, a quiet dignity that suggested he had more to give if only he was given the chance.
Thanks to advocates who intervened, Sharky was pulled to safety and eventually found his way to This Old Horse. With time, good feed, and patient care, he regained both his health and his spirit. Today, he has transformed into one of our most dependable teachers. Through our Soul Train program, Sharky patiently helps beginners learn how to approach, handle, and connect with horses. Gentle, forgiving, and wise, he embodies resilience and reminds us that second chances can change everything.
