We have come such a long way you and me.
It has been a long 2 years. What a long two years it has been!
When I first got you ; you looked sad. Of course I was sad too. I guess
A sad soul can recgonize a sad soul. You were standing in a corner stall
All alone and muddy. You were just a year old ... but you looked like you've lived enough. Your owner saved you from a kill pen in Navada. She picked you because she saw your potential. At the time I didn't see it. I couldn't even pet you, you reared and ran away from me. I kept trying, and finally you let me touch you. I was new to horses ; and you were new to humans. I needed a well trained older horse .... everyone agreed. BUT I rememered you. You were like me in so many ways. You were scared, un trusting and terrifed. Maybe you even wished you were dead. The only difference between is is that you were a horse and I was a drug addict.
There were many other horses Kidd, but my father bought you for me at 600$. I was way in over my head. It tooks hours for me to try and get a halter on you. Most of the time i'd got furusterated and quit. You did the same, you were having NO part of it. Untill one day... You just stood there and let me put a halter on you. No problems! I cried in joy and instead of going home and looking for cocaine ; I went home with a big smile on my face and talked horses with my dad all day because I was so exicted.
You took up so much of my time that I couldn't party so much anymore. I saw you everyday, without fail. Our bound grew strong. You followed me around everywhere, it made me so happy. I finally found a friend. You whinnied when you saw me ... i'd always run up to you and give you a hug. "Horse hug Kidd", whithout fail he'd wrap his neck around me.
But it wasn't easy for both of us. You had your moments and sometimes i'd slip up and do drugs or drink again. But nothing is easy, right boy?
I didn't have enough experience to break you, so we hired the local stable hand to train you. He rode you the first day. He galloped you the second week. You never bucked, reared. He said you were the best horse he'd ever broke, and I believe him. I rode you for the first time before last summer. I was sooo terrifed. You were good to me. I, being a new rider, made so many mistakes but you continued to forgive me. Thank you Kidd, no one else ever did.
You the the horse everyone said could never be ridden... now i'm riding you on roads in a semi busy country town. I'm loping you around the arena. Still no buck. Still no rear. You give me 100% all the time and I know sometimes I don't deserve it.
I'm the drug addict that everyone said couldn't quit... I was giving sexual favors for drugs and now i'm riding you Kidd! You ARE my drug, and you taught me trust... not every guy is bad... not every guy is going to hurt me the way /he/ did that dark night.
You are my best friend and I can not tell you how much your presence in my life has made a difference. However, there are a few things regarding our realtionship I must say.
First of all, I am already well aware you can run faster then me, you do not need to deminstrate this by bolting in the opposite direction when I come into your paddock, also, I think you should atleast pretend to be happy to see e, even if I'm carrying a halter instead of a bucket of oats.
Also, I think it should be very clear to you that I am a human, not a scrathing post, and rubbing yourself against me tends to send my faceplanting into the ground, also, I don't apreciate getting stomped on, adding more injury.
Seeing as you have hooves and not hands, I can't expect you to cover your nose when you sneeze, but would it really be so hard as to not sniff up dirt before sneezing all over me? Plenty of ridingn shirts have been shamefully sneezed on, and never seen the light of daylight again. When I worm you, it is for your own good, and I don't expect to be rewarded by having half of it spat back at me.
And, dear Marlea, I do not intend to abandon you to the empty pature for eternity, I promise you I will return. I promise that no predators will eat you, and I will come back in due time to return you to your loyal equine friends. It is not necessary to run in circles, whinny pathetically, threaten to jump the fence, or paw at the gate. Neither your mates nor I will have left, we are still here.
With all this in mind, I do love you dearly, to others, you are an animal, to me, you are a big, hairy, four legged daughter, and you know what they say about coming between a mother and her daughter?
I remember you as a gangly, awkward baby who was afraid of her own shadow. I remember when no one could touch your ears and I recall how many times you attempted to jump out of your own skin because someone dared stroke your neck. I remember the first time I laid eyes on you, 10 years ago. You had big ears, an overgrown head and I swear to goodness, you resembled a poorly conformed mule. But you were beautiful to me and I loved you completely. We were a team, you and I… the inseparable duo.
To this day, I’ve never forgotten the sadness I felt when I entered the barn and found your stall empty. I remember standing in your stall, lost, because you weren’t there. No one could tell me where you were, aside from the fact you had moved facilities. For ten years, I pored over Racing news, haunted the race track and searched sale ads. As hopeless as it seemed, I was positive that I’d find you one day.
And I did, by complete luck. Turns out, you were a mere two hours away the entire time. You were at a private farm, raising babies for the track. Your last foal is now three years old and just starting her career on the track.
October 14, 2011 was the first time I saw you in over 10 years. You grew! Gone was the little filly who looked like a mule – you were now 16.1hh of pure beauty. Those huge ears were now proportionate to your huge head and even bigger body. Those gangly legs were sinewy and strong. Your neck was beautiful and gracefully arched and your brush of a tail was sweeping the ground.
I didn’t expect you to remember me, but you did. The moment you saw me, you nickered and stretched your gorgeous head toward me. When I took your lead rope in my hands, you rubbed your forehead against my chest and just stood there, snorting softly. Remembering how ear-shy you used to be, I gently ran one hand up the side of your face and rubbed your ear. Immediately, your lower lip drooped and your eyes closed contentedly.
You followed me up and into the trailer willingly and I felt a huge weight lift from my shoulders. After 10 years of searching and pining, you were coming home and you remembered me! I never allowed myself to consider the fact that you would remember me as clearly as I remembered you… but you did.
The highlight of my day is seeing you. I’m forever awed by the fact that you greet me at the gate and I’m humbled by the fact that you have chosen to be with me so definitively. I’ve never met another horse who will leave her dinner to trot across a paddock to meet her person at the gate, but you do. Every day, that blows me away.
I love how generous and kind you are. When I brought you home, you’d been ridden only once before. When I hopped on, it was without a saddle or a bridle… and you looked after me. You were confused and probably a little frightened by the creature on your back, but you never offered to buck. You crow-hopped a bit, but otherwise, you were calm. You tried your best to understand what I was asking of you and you tried equally as hard to please me. When you truly didn’t understand, you would crane your neck and look at me out of the corner of one big, beautiful brown eye and implore me to ask in a different way. Between the two of us, we figured out that you understood neck reining, but not direct reining. You didn’t understand leg cues, but you knew exactly what it meant when I clucked and kissed to you.
You are my pride and joy, Vanna, and I am so fortunate to have you as my very own. A lot has happened in the last decade, but we’ve come a complete circle. We’re both older, wiser and better able to appreciate the gift of an old friend. You are my heart horse, Vanna girl, and you are home. Forever.
I love you. You may not be my horse but you're one of my best friends. You never judge me. You don't care if I bring you treats or not, though you certainly appreciate when I do especially if I put apple in there. While were on the topic I'd like to take a moment that my helmet and gloves are not, infact edible...no matter how many times you sniff them.
You have the a sense of humor which I love but sometimes when you stand with your head stretched over the deepest puddle in your paddock, I don't see the humor in it you do. Pleas e try to understand when I come to get you to ride I
Don't choose to take you from your food, it's just when a lesson fits so there is no
Reason to be stubborn about trotting. I promise you'll get back to your precious
Hay. Please realize the few times I stand in the crouseties and don't head into the ring it's because I'm waiting for a clinic or something to finish not because I forgot what to do, you don't need to give me a nudge no matter how adorable it's not helpful.
I'm sure I'll think of things to add right after I post this but if included everything I'd go on forever.
My dearest Cloney,
When I first saw you, you were still wet and hadn't stood up yet. And STILL you made my heart skip with your incredible beauty. I said then and keep saying, that you are my perfect horse. I've never had a horse that could make me smile just because he walked into the arena or gave me a saucy look out of the side of his eye, the way you can.
Everytime I show you or have someone show you for me, you prove to me all over again that you are indeed my perfect stallion. It's been almost 5 years now and I still forget to breathe when I look at you. Your incredible sweetness and willingness under saddle and in the show pen continually amaze me and make me thank God for you. I pinch myself to realize I really AM this lucky to have you in my life.
At Nationals this year you gave it everything you have and then gave some more. I was and am, so incredibly proud of you, your accomplishments and your heart. Oh my, your unbelievable HEART! And you're such a total suck up and love bug, it's really amazing. And most of the time you are soooooooo amazingly well behaved.
HOWEVER, if you don't quit that freakin stallion bellowing and stamping your feet because there's a gelding next to 'your' mare (she's not in heat do you hear me? It's winter!), there is a rusty hoof knife with your name on it and I'm not afraid to threaten you with it! We're only 15 mins away from the vet school and gelding is something they are very proficient at.......Are you hearing me? So just QUIT IT!
Your Human Mother
PS Yes, I have Bananen Sweeties and Lekkerwurfels in your Christmas Stocking and Santa tells me you have another present or 2 coming, so ......You better watch out, you better not pout.......
Well, I can honestly say that I wasn't completely thrilled about the circumstances that led me you. I had just been informed that I was most likely going to get kicked out of a show due to the health condition of the horse that I had come to love. Something that wasn't easily fixable but had no effect on trainablility or my riding him. And just on a whim, a week before, I had pulled you out of the pasture to ride, just for a change of pace. No, I was not thrilled when we had to go back to the barn and exchange Rocket for you, in fact, the entire ride back to the barn my RI and I had been discussing which horse I could exchange with so I could show the next day. She said, "What about Razz?" and I said, "I've only ridden her once, a week ago." and my RI said, "Yeah, but she wants to go to Fair." So we put you in the trailor and hauled you to the show.
I would like to inform you that my attitude has changed about you. Now there are times when I do miss Rocket and would like to have the opporunity to ride him again, but you have taught me so much and we both have learned so much since that fateful month a little over two years ago. You are now the horse that I will have been working with continuously with the longest, and thankfully you're nothing like the ****** that had previously held that record. I thank you for that.
You are sweet, gentle, loving, and a complete suck-up when you know I'm angry, whether or not I'm angry at you. You have taught me to take responsibility for my actions and to rarely blame the horse. You've taught me to be gentle, but firm. That there's not need to be aggressive. You love little kids. You have a great sire and dam, even if your dam isn't the nicest mare in the world. I'm glad you got your dad's personality, it's saved me a lot of stress. Even if your mom may not have been as well-known as your dad, I still love your mom because she made you and reminds me a little of myself. In fact you are, in a very scary way, a animal replica of me. You'll mull things over, and when I least expect it you'll throw something at me to remind me to keep my guard up. You don't take to kindly to rough handling, you can take it, and will take it quietly, but will do what you can when you can for "revenge."
Once you learn something you're pretty well set, especially when it comes to ground commands and little kids. I love how my RI's kids can walk anywhere around you and say, "Razz, move." and you'll move away from them, even if you're not in the way. I especially love how you give that same respect to me. I do, however, wish that you would not play the game Ring-Around the Pasture everytime I try to bring you in so that we can train. I'm well aware that you don't like to work and would rather be in your pasture left alone forever, but it really is majorly inconvenient and time consuming for me, and we'd be done so much sooner with our lessons and training if you would just walk up to me when I come to get you, or anyone who comes to get you.
We've been through a lot together; jumping, gaming (will never happen again, sorry), western, bareback classes, saddle seat, and huntseat. In fact, did you know that I was extremely uncomfortable riding Dez for those bareback classes that I turned told my RI that I wanted to ride you, even though it was a much farther way down to the ground and a much rougher ride? Want to know why I asked for you? Because I knew you and you knew me. You knew my subtle signals, you knew when to move over if my balance sarted to shift, you didn't try to make the ride rougher that it needed to be just because you didn't like me and you certainly weren't going to go as fast as you possibly could because you knew I was uncomfortable.
So I have a lot to thank you for and I'm so very sorry that you and I won't be working together much anymore due to my college and military committments. Although, I can't say that you'll be too disappointed about being a pasture pet. I'll see you when I can. Love you baby.
Dear Spooky Bugger. It was months of frustration that got me thinking you'd got me beat and that maybe it was time we parted. I delved into a new to me technique and we made wonderful strides. I appreciate that you've become a gent, so very polite. I vividly recall plunking my butt down on a tire, taking in the evening. You came up behind me and began to check me out, nuzzling my cap and hair, going down my back and across my shoulders. When you stepped forward to check out my face, I was thrilled that the trust allowed this to happen. As I looked up to your eye you blew snot all over my face. My first thought was how many cans of dog food you'd make, but I forgave you.