Giving Thanks

It is the season for giving thanks. I have a lot of thanks to give. I have been so fortunate in my life. We all lament –someone always has a better horse, fancier tack, more money. Why oh why can’t that be me? I am as guilty as anyone in having these thoughts…but when I stop and think it is the people that are most important and I have been surrounded by the best.

My family –Not.Into.Horses.At.All.  But yet they were there.

Traveling 4+ hours to watch me ride for 5 minutes in a horse show. They sacrificed their time and their money for me without complaint. I did not realize all of this at the time and there is so very much more…for brevity’s sake let’s just say that I have now realized the family vacations stopped at the same age I started riding.

My pony and I with Betty

Betty- The barn manager I had growing up and my unpaid baby sitter. Most would be horrified by this (parents using a barn manager to watch their kids). But she loved the group of rag tag kids that were deposited at her barn 7am-7pm Monday through Friday. And we loved her.

If I can take a moment to go back to family. My momma (a single parent) would get up 2 hours early to drive 40 minutes away from the city to deposit me at the barn before driving back to the city to work. After working a full day, the drive was repeated to collect a filthy jabbering child.  But she knew it made me happy so she did it. Thank you momma.

Betty was an old school horseman (she cringed when sweaty horses were hosed off vs being rubbed dry with a feed sack). She taught me so many horsemanship lessons that are with me to this day. I did get a chance to thank her before she passed away. We laughed at the things I did…dressing my pony in pants and glasses to put on a play for her, (trying) to give the barn cat a bath, breaking the rules and galloping the steeplechase with a halter/ no helmet/ bareback. I thought I was getting away with something but discovered she knew all along. Betty has been gone now a long time. Not a week does not go by when I don’t  do something thank makes me think of her. Thank you Betty.

The trainers –Too many to list.  Those that gave lessons and catch rides to a bumpkin kid in exchange for chores (again –in retrospect-they had a full paid staff and did not need those stalls cleaned, horses walked or aisles swept). These trainers gave me opportunities for high quality instruction and the chance to ride impressive horseflesh while keeping my integrity (my family could have never afforded the lessons or competitions). 

A special thank you to Dennis and Sherry of Longview Farm for arranging the breeding of my dear Abby. She was a horse of a lifetime for me and now for my favorite little girl.

Abby with me circa late 90s & with her little girl 2011

And also to the Southwinds Farm crew (Kitty, Jill and Mr. Jack) for taking me in and making me part of your family and giving me so many "first times" from the chance to groom at Rolex to my first trip out of the country. I was rough around the edges for sure but you gave me every chance to be better.

Jenny at Massey’s Corral- The phone rang on my 16^th birthday followed by a gruff “why are you not at work?”  And  so began my tenure at Massey’s Corral.  I learned so much from Jenny-horse health and leatherwork. I have lost touch with Jenny over the years and if somehow someway you come across this blog Jenny please get in touch. I miss you terribly. Thank you Jenny for giving me my first (legal) job and sharing your knowledge. And yes –I have stayed away “from the batwings and foo-foo dust”, my tack is clean and the stitching is tight.

This post is long but cathartic…moving to modern times I have to thank the folks I have met in the Midwest.

The Come Again Farm Crew- After spending 20+ years developing relationships in area 3 I never thought I would find my comfortable place Midwest. But in a few short years CAF is that place. I love showing and learning there and have met the most wonderful people.  

Tim and Kandy –Thank you for being my first anchor here and for letting me into your child’s life. I love that little girl like no one’s business and respect you both more than I can say. Your family and your child have made my life better.

Susie and Doug- My Midwest mom and pop. There are not enough words in the English language or pages on the internet to thank you. Suffice it to say you are the people I call first when it is really bad and when it is really good. Thank you.

And so it begins... part 2

So I was heading to a funeral…right? Wrong.

A call to my mom confirmed what I knew. Brenda would want me to go. She was crazy and impulsive. I had been there with her as she was dying…she did not need me now. The best way to honor her would be to drive 12+ hours just to try a horse that had caught my fancy.

So I did just that –going against my “Type A Prepare, Prepare, Prepare!” nature.  Brenda that was for you!

Safety check on truck and trailer? Nope.

Layover point mapped out? Nope.

Hotel booked? Nope.

Mapquest? Nope.

We hooked up the trailer and went that night…well, sort of. Truck 1 (the newer one) had a ton of fill dirt in the back. OK –older truck it is. Trailer 1 (the most recently serviced) was found to have a flat. So old, borderline scary trailer made the trip.

Finally, we left.

What a drive! *Someone* accidentally hit the “no tolls” option on the GPS. This resulted in a scenic route….lots of mountains. Lots of them. Hotels? Not so much. But there were lots of mountains!

After driving through the night and you guessed it-over the mountains - we made it to the camp. To be brief (not my specialty) trailer parking (or jack knifing if you prefer) as well as the Jeep ride (4 wheel drive required) to the horse area was all an adventure in itself…

And we saw THE horse.

I’ll be honest –he did not take my breath away and I did not hear the angels sing but I hopped on, hacked him around only to exclaim “*&%%$@! He is green!”.

Steering? Nope.

Breaks? Nope.

Tolerate fly spray or being squirted with a hose? Nope.

Gas pedal? Oh yea!

But he tromped over rocks and through the ravines and passed the archery and rifle ranges without batting an eye. We made a (very) low ball offer and they took it. He was mine!

Camp pony! (The inverted Paint or whatever color he is on your far right)

I elected to ride him back to the trailer while my friend took another jeep ride. As we made our way through the camp children began to ask “who are you”, “what are you doing?”, “where are you taking Moose Tracks?” To which I replied, “He is MINE! I am taking him HOME! Hahahahaha!” I was tired -give me a break already.

It was not until we had him loaded on the trailer that we realized 1) We had not slept 2) We had no layover 3) We now had a horse on the trailer so must drive straight through (again).

Awesome.

I do not remember the drive back but we did make it home Sunday around 6am.
I tossed the poor beast in the nearest paddock and went to bed. 8 hours later my phone ringing wakes me up. It was my friend, “Hi. Um.What did we just do?”

“Sh*t. Hold on a second.” I stepped outside and looked into the paddock. Then a big smile. “We bought a camp pony! I Love him!”

This face makes me smile everyday.

And so it begins..Part 1

This time last year, I was going through a difficult period…a well-loved aunt was dying and a best friend was facing cancer. At he same time I had come to the conclusion that my well loved horse did not fit my lifestyle or goals and should go on to another, more talented rider…it was all a bit much.

Sitting beside my aunt as she slept I found an outlet playing on the internet looking at horses –never mind it was not the “right time”. I had yet to rehome my current horse and was very stressed in my personal life…but I was just “playing”- right?

Aunt Brenda (yellow top) at one of my horse shows

I was browsing DreamHorse (with out putting in the mileage locator- I was just “playing”- right?) when I came across a little horse that captured my attention. I kept going back to him repeatedly. He was unlike anything I had ever ridden or wanted (my previous mounts were all hot OTTB types –that I loved!). But a smallish (15h), grade, LOUDLY colored camp pony became the only horse I wanted. I looked at his photos and watched his videos frequently…prompting my mom –looking over my shoulder to ask –“what is that?” “Does he bray?” but my aunt (though I am not sure she could actually really see the photos) proclaimed him a fine horse that I should go try at once!

I kept telling myself it was not to be –no money, no time, and no business buying a horse. Then my aunt died - I got the call at work.  As I was walking out of the building, my phone rang. It was my friend.

“So, I have surgery and treatment in two days…let’s get out of here and maybe go try that horse.”

But I was heading to a funeral…right?