And Then There Was This Horse (Chapter 2)

I know, I know...two blog entries in one day. But you don't understand! I've decided to "tell our story". And I'm way behind...a year and 5 months behind. We've got to catch up! Read on.....:

After those first wild rides, and a couple of years “figuring things out” with my first pony (Ponies can be pure evil by the way!), I got my first “real” horse. She was a stout, confident, Quarter Horse/Morgan cross with a very kind disposition and plenty of motor. We had 25 years together. I could go on and on about this mare. How versatile she was – barrels, trail, western pleasure. Her stamina – I had to get up at 4am and ride across town 5 miles to the horse shows, show all day, then ride back home. And mostly, how forever grateful I am to her. My childhood was a little “tumultuous”, I guess you could say, and I felt like this horse saved me. We spent so many great years together. She was a mother/protector horse, and an adventure partner. A willing accomplice to any scheme I could cook up. Mandy….She was my pride and joy.


She was put down at the ripe old age of 36. It wasn’t an easy passing. I felt that after all that she had given me throughout her life, I let her down in the end. She deserved a peaceful, sun-drenched, never-ending nap in a meadow. But it was a terrible experience that still makes me sad to think about.

On that day, I walked away from the barn one last time, with a broken heart, leaving all of my tack; my saddle, my bridle, my brushes, everything, never to return. Somebody else could have it all, I didn’t care.

I drove home feeling numb. Then I quickly moved on. I was a very busy, newly divorced mother of a toddler. Things in my life were hectic. It was fun, but a lot of responsibility to own a horse. Besides, there would never be another Mandy. So that was that. I was done with it.

Then one day several years later, I reconnected with my old childhood friend, Linda (of our first wild horseback ride). She had gotten back into horses after a few years without. If you recall, we got our first ponies together. Then later, we got our first “big horses” at around the same time. Her horse Duffy lived to be quite an old man. A few years after Duffy passed, she picked up an Arabian mare and she had horse fever again! She suggested that I just “think about it”. I spent some time out at her ranch with her horses. And that was it. I knew I Must. Have. A. Horse.

Boy, was my husband surprised. For as influential as horses had been in my life, I just never talked about them. I rarely spoke of Mandy. These were private memories I kept quietly and safely tucked away. Could you imagine his reaction when I casually mentioned to him one evening “Oh…my gosh. I have something to tell you! You don’t know this, but horses are my LIFE. And I must get one now. It’s time.” (say what!?!?)

Being the good supportive husband that he is, he was behind me. A little nervously….but behind me.

Of course I wanted a horse like my old mare. A nice thick Quarter Horse type. Steadfast, solid minded and good on trails, but ranchy and fun. Capable.

I spent a few weekends looking at a bunch of Quarter Horses, with no luck. The first one was a beautiful dun QH mare. She charged me when I turned her out in the arena. I mean, really charged like she was going to kill me. I’m not really one for taking on a horse with issues. I passed. I’m sure she might make a great horse for someone, she was probably just testing me, but she failed my test. I looked at several others, but none of them really stood out. I was sure of two things; my horse was out there, and I would know her when I saw her. But I was starting to get a little frustrated. Where was my horse?

Then one day, out of the blue, I decided to take a drive up to a little horse boarding facility not far from my home. I had called a few times but no one answered and I didn’t get a call back. It could have been the vague nature of my message: “Hi. Uh.. I’m looking for a horse?” So I thought I would just go and ask if they had any horses for sale, or knew of any.What did I have to lose, really?

I pulled up the driveway and got out of my car. It’s not good etiquette to show up at a private boarding facility without an appointment so I needed to find the person to apologize to, and then ask about horses! Shelly was very nice and after explaining my purpose for wandering on to her property, she pointed me down the hill to the “end corner pasture on the right”. “There’s a young mare down there. She’s not for sale but I know the owner was considering maybe leasing her out a while back. Why don’t you take a look and I can call him if you’re interested.”

So I made my way down the hill. As I got close to the last pasture I thought, “Well, maybe I didn’t hear right.” I stopped and looked around. Could there be any other “end corner pasture on the right” that the woman may have been referring to? I was thinking that there really wasn’t any point in going any further. In front of me was one of the gangliest, funniest looking, upside down built horses I had ever seen. She didn’t know if she was spotted or painted. Half her mane stuck up on end and the other half lay flat. Her conformation wasn’t what I was used to, expecting, or hoping for. I didn’t see a hind end to speak of. She definitely was not a “Quarter Horse” type.

I was about to turn to go when she walked up to the gate to see who I was. What did I want? Did I have a treat? A scratch, perhaps? Did I come for her? She looked so darned hopeful and insistent that I thought it would be mean not to go and say hello. So I walked down to the gate and gave her a little pat on the neck. She wasn’t so bad really. Kind of pretty. Definitely unique. I was a little stumped, quite possibly captivated, and I couldn’t turn away. I decided to lift up her fly mask to get a look at her eyes. You can tell a lot about a horse by their eyes. I remember that feeling. My breath catching in my throat.

Well, hello my beautiful girl. You are the one. Yes. In fact, I did come for you.

I practically ran up the hill to Shelly and breathlessly (damn, I came to hate that hill) panted…”Call him. Please. CALL HIM!”

And so she did.