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Growing up with Horses
When we first got our horses eight years ago, my brother was staying with us
temporarily. He got to experience those mistakes that new horse owners tend to
make. He and his daughter are here visiting and last evening, the kids were
down at the south pond trying to rescue the boat they left float through the
winter. So I put bridles on Windy and Butterscotch & invited my brother to “hop
on” and we would ride down to the pasture – bareback. Having broken a bone in
his leg on one of those rides eight years ago, he was a bit apprehensive about
riding bareback, but I convinced him Butter was completely safe (evil grin).
With a death grip on the mane, we headed down to the pasture.
My sister didn’t fare as well in recovering from her fear of riding. She, too,
took a tumble that first year we had Ginger. Hers was a case of overconfidence
& forgetting she was no longer 17 but 42. Last year I convinced her to go on a
short ride with me. No pictures exist (except in my mind) of my once brave
sister now riding Windy – equipped with a helmet, grasping the horn and being
lead by me from another horse all the while saying, “don’t drop the rope,
pleassse don’t drop the rope!”
I’m reminded of those early years – how a little thing called “fear” played
havoc on my only desire – to have fun with my horses. Looking back, nothing in
particular happened that warranted me to be fearful, but it loomed over me every
time I swung my leg over the saddle. Everything on a ride made me nervous:
cows rushing a fence, a spook at a plastic bag, a head toss, going up a hill (or
down). In time, things changed for the better.
Today we ventured out further. John, my boys and I, and my brother and his
daughter, rode the Oak Creek Trail from Loma to Valparaiso and back. Other than
the "roadside bomb" (aka root beer bottle) that sent Blue in a tailspin, the day
couldn’t be more perfect. It’s so rewarding to see how confident the kids have
become on a horse; they no longer remember us NOT having horses. They were
very young when my obsession with the equine began. And my brother remembers a
little bay filly born on our place six years ago... as he watches his daughter
now riding that bay mare – all grown up – both of them.
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