Two Stolen Horses. One Unfinished Story.

Remembering Zip and Blaze

Fourteen years have passed, but for the people who loved Zip and Blaze, time has never really moved on.

In 2026, their story remains one of the many cold cases quietly carried inside the files of Stolen Horse International and its NetPosse alert system—unsolved, unresolved, and still painful.

Back in the winter of 2012, Camp El Har was a small Christian church camp in southwest Dallas where children learned to ride, gained confidence, and found comfort in the presence of gentle horses. Zip and Blaze were at the center of that world. They were steady, forgiving quarter horse mares. The kind that beginners trusted. The kind that children bonded with.

On a Monday evening, they were turned out to pasture along with the rest of the herd. Nothing felt unusual. Nothing looked wrong.

By Tuesday morning, everything had changed.

When the gate was opened, eight horses should have been standing there.

Only six were.

Zip and Blaze—horses that never lagged behind, never wandered off alone—were gone.

A search of the pasture led staff to the farthest, darkest corner, where the weakest stretch of barbed wire fence had been cut. Not broken. Not damaged by animals. Cut cleanly.

It quickly became clear that this was not a random act.

Someone had studied the property.

Someone had chosen a vulnerable access point.

Someone had selected two of the easiest, most obedient horses on the entire site.

Whoever took them did not grab the first horses they saw.

They took the best ones for handling.

They took the ones children loved most.

By the time daylight fully settled over the camp, fear had replaced shock. Police were notified. The camp began calling anyone who might help. Flyers were printed. Social media posts went live. Auction houses were alerted.

And Stolen Horse International activated a NetPosse alert.

Within hours, a nationwide network of horse owners, rescues, transporters, trainers, and auction watchers knew the names Zip and Blaze. Their photos were shared across states. Their descriptions circulated in inboxes, barns, and feed stores.

A community mobilized.

But the horses did not surface.

At Camp El Har, the impact was immediate.

Children arrived for lessons only to learn their favorite horses were gone. Some cried. Some refused to ride. Some asked the same question over and over: When are Zip and Blaze coming back?

Behind the scenes, the camp faced hard realities. Two privately owned horses were moved off the property for their own safety. The remaining herd was reduced. Extra security measures were added. Staff questioned whether programs could continue, whether operations should pause, whether they would have to rebuild later.

Then came another unsettling discovery.

Someone had opened all the gates on the property.

No horses were taken that time, but the message was chilling: whoever had stolen Zip and Blaze knew the camp existed. They knew its layout. And they might still be watching.

Weeks passed.

Months passed.

Years passed.

No confirmed sightings.

No verified tips.

No arrests.

Zip and Blaze quietly became another entry in a growing list of missing horses across the country—one more case where the trail went cold far too fast.

Yet inside the NetPosse system, their records were never closed.

Because stolen horses sometimes resurface years later.

Sometimes decades later.

Sometimes through a casual scan at an auction.

Sometimes through a routine microchip check.

Sometimes because someone finally speaks.

Stolen Horse International has seen it happen before.

Horses stolen as youngsters have been found as seniors.

Horses believed lost forever have been reunited with families who never stopped hoping.

“I think about these horses many times every year because I personally worked this case with the camp owner. I remember the children and their sadness. We worked hard to secure news coverage and spread their story everywhere we could. I think of the horses often, but I never forget the children—their faces, their heartbreak. Never. If anyone knows what happened to Zip and Blaze, please let us know.” — Debi Metcalfe, Founder, Stolen Horse International | NetPosse.com

Another important detail still stands today:

The owner of Camp El Har has never contacted Stolen Horse International to report that Zip and Blaze were found. No recovery notice. No closure call.   No confirmation. Which means, officially and operationally, Zip and Blaze remain missing. 

Their search remains active.

Their case remains open.

And NetPosse does not close cases without proof.

Because NetPosse never gives up.

In 2026, the case is officially cold.

But cold does not mean forgotten.

Their names still exist in databases.

Their images still live in archives.

Their story still matters.

Because Zip and Blaze were not inventory.

They were therapy partners.

They were teachers.

They were safe places for children who needed one.

And somewhere, the truth of what happened to them still exists.

Someone knows who took them.

Someone knows where they went.

Someone knows what became of them.

Until that answer surfaces, Zip and Blaze remain what they have been since that February morning in 2012:

Missing.

Searched for.

Remembered.

And waiting to come home.