Let me tell you about my horses.
Smokey is a 14 year old miniature horse/pony mix gelding that came to my house because he wouldn't stay inside the single strand of un-electricfied tape. All the others were large horses. Smokey is small. He would scoot out under the fence and the others would want to go for walks with him. He was supposed to be here for a short period of time until a new placement could be found for him. That was 7 years ago. Smokeys saving grace is that he is an exact replica of the pony my grandfather had when I was a little girl. The very first picture of me on a horse was in my grandfathers (now my) driveway with me on his little chocolate palomino, Lady. Smokey could be her double (ok, don't be too picky - maybe the gender is wrong, but if it were a mare would I have kept it? Doubtful!) He was in the right place, at the right time, with an empty stall in the barn. Fate. Karma. Dumb Luck? Two strands of electric tape. HOT! Tape. He's been a sweetie - no longer wanders off on his own. We will have him forever!
Buddy came to me in 2007. He is a registered Quarter Horse, 15.2 gelding, 27 years old. Been there, done that, very, very little ever spooks this horse. He was ridden at two speeds before I got him - fast and faster. And every day for almost all his life. He was owned by a very sweet, gentle man. Buddy was his transportation everywhere. They were always together. But, Buddy was beginning to stumble occasionally and his owner wanted a new mount, but wanted a good home for his partner. He had Buddy for most of his life. Buddy's owner did have a new horse ready to buy, and just a few short weeks after my receiving Buddy, Freddy was tragically killed in a horse accident that no one witnessed. Buddy is enjoying semi-retirement at my house. We ride, on average, about once a week in the summer. At a walk. That's all... walk. Not that we don't know how to go faster and occasionally do, but I like a slow pace that's easier on my body. Enjoying the surroundings. Communing with nature. No cell phones, no teenage daughters, no husband, no other worries. Just the two of us. With Freddy riding alongside :)
My truly, best love (my only other best Love is my patient, wonderful, non-horsey husband). Windstride Abakas. My 28 year old Morab gelding. 15.2. The love of my life. Aba had cushings for the last three years of his life. Our time together wasn't short - we spent over 10 years becoming each others best friend. He was a hot ticket 10 years ago. I thought, quite a few times, that I was absolutely out of my mind to have gotten a horse like him! He was still a hot ticket, even up to the day we lovingly let him go to the great, green pastures in the sky. He wasn't keeping weight on. He was having problems with his feet, chronic foundering. The horse that didn't ever like to get his feet wet, standing knee deep in buckets of cold ice water. Winter was right around the corner and we were already having to blanket him on the cooler nights in September. It truly was one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. Aba will never be forgotten and never be replaced. He was truly one of a kind. IF ever there was a horse I would have walked through fire for, it was Aba. And he would have followed right behind me.
So, after he was gone, I was not going to put another horse in his stall. I turned his stall into a play room for the kittens that I had acquired through my job. They ran around and chased each other and made me laugh. It was a good transition.
Now for my early Christmas present.
I wasn't looking for a new horse. Was just searching the web, posting some free horses I found onto a yahoogroup. Not even sure I wanted another horse. Then I went to meet him. Without a trailer. The weather that day was rainy and cold. We even had some snow. Great reason not to take a trailer that day. Told myself that I probably wouldn't even like him. A Thoroughbred? Me? I'm not a spring chicken. I don't bounce well. Too many physical issues to want to ride a young (ok, by my standards, at least) horse. Not a crotchety old hen ready to go to to the stew pot - yet (I don't care what my girls tell you!). No way that I need a
Got to a small (smaller than mine) farm with turnouts and a few horses. The one I came to look at was in a stall in the barn/garage. I arrived a few minutes early. Sweet horse. Huge!!!! OMG! The owner and I tacked him up with my saddle, (the rain had stopped) and we went out in the arena. She rode him first, warming him up. He was a little off in one of his hind legs. She said he had a long jumping lesson the day before. I led him up to the mounting block (ok, I didn't feel like such a mini as she was skinny and long legged and she even used a mounting block to get on him) and got on. It was a llloonnnggg way to the ground. I asked every so slightly for a walk. Walked a few rounds, circled, back the other way, asked for a trot (ok, ask a little less next time), very nice. Walked him up to a little cross rail in the middle of the arena. This whole time we had been talking. The owner, her friend, my cousin and I, while I was riding. I asked if he would walk over the cross rail- she laughed and said probably not! But he did. Seemed kinda surprised that he could walk instead of jump. The second trip over he could barely get all four feet over - dragged each and every one of them, clunking them over the crossed poles.... guess he was telling me he didn't too much care for the jumping part, that the slow walking over part was a better idea. Very nice mouth. Very gentle transitions. Nice horse. Smooth ride. Ok horse. Still hadn't made up my mind if I was interested in bringing down a trailer to get him.
Then I got off him. I was running the stirrups up and talking to him and WHAM. He took his huge, massive head and ever so very gently pulled me to his chest and hugged me. That's it. I was in love. That is what I had been missing so much since my Aba had left. If it hadn't been for that hug, for that gentle giant following me to the door of my truck while I put the saddle in and who stood quietly munching on candy canes and hugged me again, I would probably have let that very nice, gentle giant of a horse slip right through my fingers.
After kicking myself in the butt, wondering why I hadn't brought the trailer along, anyways, we rode home in the rain. We had made plans for me to pick Elias up Thanksgiving morning. My sister-in-law was cooking. I made my first (gulp) solo trailering two hours south to pick up my new horse. The stall was ready. My heart was ready. Elias is still the gentle giant. More mellow than my Quarter horse - what's up with that???
I have two other horses that also live in my barn. Have you seen a pattern here? Gelding, gelding, gelding, gelding.... I don't do Mares. Don't particularly like mares. Nothing wrong with mares - I just get enough hormonal issues with the three teenager daughters that live at home. Not my choice of horse.
Lacey is a very beautiful 8 year old morgan mare. Who is all mare. She cycles way too much - even for mare people. (There is a reason why I only have geldings on my farm... no one to help her with that business...) Lacey will do **anything** for a peppermint candy. She is such a goof. Not a snuggler or hugger, but bring out peppermint and you have her absolutely, undivided, complete attention. Until the peppermints are gone. Then you are just a human who doesn't have anything that she might need. Lacey belongs to a very good friend of mine who is having a bit of a hard time. While she is healing and getting things together, Lacey is staying with me. She is being cared for, loved, treated like one of mine (unlike the last barn she was at where she 'became' a lesson horse for a teenager who wanted to learn how draw reins worked... argh!!) and being the queen she thinks she should be treated like. As much as I don't do mares, I am not HER person. She makes that abundantly clear. She does not like to cuddle with me. Has no use of me fussing over her mane when it gets snarled. Could absolutely care less if I pick out her feet. Wants to spend the least amount of time with me possible. Absolutely GUSHES over her MOM! That's ok. That's what Mom's are for!
Aspey is a sweet, little 14.1, 20 year old arabian mare. Very gentle, very calm. Belongs to my cousin who got me into horses at the age of 10. Moved down from a little town on the Canadian border. Loves being around the big guys. Tries to rule the herd. (The real ruler of the herd is Smokey, lol). Her Mom, my cousin, comes to visit at least twice a week. I'm blessed that I get to help them have less distance between them.
It's time. Enough of hugging the wood stove to truly have been heated through a few times over. Time to bring the beasties in from the field and snuggle them into their stalls for the night. I won't forget the candy canes, either :)
I still HATE snow. Hate winter. Hate COLD! Blech... Here we go with the layers, again :(
No comments:
Post a Comment