According to my dad, I was born loving horses. According to my mom, I was born talking, but that's another story (with plenty of pictures to back her up). I was given a rocking horse for Christmas and my dad used to tell me that once I got on, I didn't want to get off. At six months of age, I did need some supervision, but it wasn't long before I resented that extra pair of hands always ready to catch me. If you're gonna ride, you're gonna fall, right?
As I got a little older, my parents would take me to a park to ride ponies in a circle. I'm sure you've seen pictures, the horses are tethered to poles which are arranged like spokes in a wheel. The speed is constant and the rider really has no control. My father loved to tell me about how independent I was when it came time to ride the ponies. Apparently, at less than two years of age, I didn't want my mother or father walking beside me. I wanted to ride - BY MYSELF! That independent streak pleased my father, but what pleased him even more was that other children, who were much older, would cry and cling to their parents. The other children would either refuse to ride or refuse to ride without a parent holding on to them. Dad said some of them would bawl the entire time, while I on the other hand, couldn't stop beaming. My tears came when the ride was over.
I don't remember the park, but I do remember the horse in the the second picture. We lived in California at the time, and the neighbor girl had a horse. I remember specifically the time she left me alone on the horse. I was probably pestering her to ride, or it could have been that she was showing off how gentle her horse was. This is what I do remember: she put me on the horse, she went in the house with her friends, and I sat on the horse. For a very long time...She never came back...Eventually her father came home from work and rescued me. I was not grateful; I was having a good time and he had ruined it. I was about four years old.
Eventually, I would get my own horse, a sorrel mare named Goldie. I hated the name and tried several new names on her: Stardust, Princess Golden Hair, and Golden Moon. None of the names fit her personality. She was a "Goldie," plain and simple, never in a hurry. Trustworthy (most of the time) and surefooted. Walking was her favorite speed.
I still love horses and in the coming weeks you're going to get a chance to meet the eight that now reside in the north pasture. I'd also like to introduce you to some of the horses I loved as a little girl.
This morning, I realized I was feeling a little melancholy. I left the warmth of the house and went to see the horses. After thirty minutes of "therapy" I was ready to tackle my "to-do" list. Horses have always had this effect on me. And while I'd really rather be riding today, I can always walk to the mudroom and pretend I'm with the horses. You see, I have this smell on my boots....
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