I am soooo phoning this in this month. This is one of several photos I snapped earlier in the month. I was not completely inspired by any of them and figured I would pop back into the city over the next few weeks for a second go round. But time is sneaky and slips away easily. I promise to offer something better next month.
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He was called Jake when my cousin Bill got him. He had had seven owners in seven years. I don't know how many different names he had over those seven years, but his name was now Cody and it would be the name he carried for the next twenty. Cody was skinny and nervous and he loved to run. He was the horse I was told I would never be experienced enough to ride.
That changed when I was fourteen and DP rotated her coffin bone and left me without a horse to ride. Bill offered me Cody and even though I was scared to death of this horse I jumped at it. The first test drive went well. Stopping was a bit of an issue but we ended up stopped eventually. Bill seemed confident that I would be able to handle him. I had passed!!!
Did I mention that Cody loved to run? The second you swung into the saddle you could feel his his energy coiled up like a spring. He more bounced than walked and the second he felt a slack in the reins he was off like a shot. I loved it! Did I also mention that Cody was not so good at stopping? Yeah, that part neither me or my calloused hands loved that part. Cody was a "Star Gazer" and ran with his head and nose straight up in air. A gag bit must have been used on him at some time to cause this and his star gazing was making the bit I was using ineffective. This was when I got the bright idea to try a Hack on him. It was going to go one of two ways. 1. He would stop or 2. I was gonna die trying. My mom, my aunt and cousins lined up on the rail to watch what they were sure would be my demise. I kicked Cody up in to a run and then gave the reins a quick tug and Cody did something I was not prepared for...he stopped.
Cody never got over being skinny, nervous, and loving to run. We had a deal...I took care of him and he took care of me. He knew that even when I was jumping him and DP through fire that everything was going to be okay. The connection I had with Cody was special and was different from the one I had with the other horses. He will always be my favorite boy.
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Dark Powder Room...now isn't that about the worst name you have ever heard for a horse? Better known as DP, Deepers, affectionately as Simba, and sometimes not so affectionately as Alpo. She was 18 months old when my cousin John purchased her with the intent of training and selling her. And that is just what he did, trained her and sold her. The people that bought her changed her name to Pepper and over the course of the next six months undid all the work that had been put into her. I won't go into the details of the mistreatment they put her through, but I will tell you it was bad enough that she had started to defend herself. Many offers were made to buy her back all of which they refused. With a lot of perseverance and a bit of slight of hand we got her back. She had lost several hundred pounds and had rope burns across her back side. She was damaged and I was hoping her spirit wasn't broken. It was time to take her home. She had other ideas. When I went to load her in the trailer you could see the worry in her eyes and she would not budge. It did not matter how much we pushed, pulled or tried to bribe her with food, she was not getting in that trailer. With mounting frustration we kept trying and more and more people joined the effort. She was thinking she had won this battle of wills. That was until with great team effort she was lifted into that horse trailer. She then proceeded to try and kick her way out of that trailer the whole way home. She exploded out of the trailer the second I unsecured the door. She stopped, looked around, and nickered. She was answered by Oakie and Cody. Her ears flicked forward and she let out what I can only describe as scream. DP was home.
Now it was not all sunshine and rainbows after that. DP had become a nasty, obstinate little bitch. She was pissed off and rightfully so. And she let me know every chance she got by biting or kicking me when I least expected it. Now I don't know if you have ever been bitten by a horse...but let me tell you it is about the worst pain I have ever felt. "My what big teeth you have". "The better to take a huge chuck of flesh off your hip with my dear". That first year was hard on both of us. She tested me in more ways than I can list. She didn't do anything without first putting up a fight. With time and patience came trust, for her in me and me in her.
Once I gained that trust we started to work as a team and she became very much my horse. That is not to say that she did not have her quirks. My least favorite, other than biting, was when she would fake lameness to get out of a class and once we were excused from the arena she was magically healed. I do however have to give her credit for being so sneaky. DP was also a huge ham. I soon learned that if I made a huge deal over the smallest thing that she was more likely to do, especially if it garnered applause.
All my favorite memories were on the back of a horse. I think back to how I used to ride my DP to my friend Liz's house and we would invite boys we like over to ride. How we would set out in a field and let the horses run until tears came to our eyes. No matter how down I was I knew that DP was going to nicker when she saw me and it never failed to make me smile. I miss all of that. I lost DP unexpectedly when I was 19. I felt as if a huge part of me was torn away. I wasn't there and did not get the cahnce to say goodbye. Even now 14 years later my chest gets tight and a lump rises in my throat when I think about her. I miss her so much and it makes me sad that she never had the chance to grow old. It does give me comfort to know that I was able to give her the best life possible. I know she knew how happy she made me.
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The first time I rode "Oakie" I was 9. I walked up to this big beautiful bay and asked who was going to help me get up on her. My aunt turned to me and said "you're the one riding her, get yourself up". Oakie suddenly seemed so much taller to me. I raised my leg as high as I could, barely slipping the toe of my cowboy boot onto the edge of the stirrup, wrapped my hands in the saddle strings and pulled myself up. The second Oakie took that first step with me in the saddle I was hooked.
Oakie was an Appendix Quarter Horse and had spent some time on the track. She leaned towards the Thoroughbred side with her long legs and lean body...in a word she was gorgeous. Of all the horses Oakie was the easiest to ride and made even the most novice rider look good in the ring.
As I got taller those saddle strings got shorter and we both got older. Oakie spent the last years of her life as the spoiled queen of the pasture. I think there was a part of her that longed to be brought along to the fort with the other horses...but I think there was a larger part that was just as happy to stay home and be Queen.
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All of my horses were hand me downs passed down through my cousins John and Bill. Ruff should have been my first horse, but was my second. I started out with Oakie and am not sure of the reason I switched to Ruff...there was a bit of horse swapping going on. Ruff was just about the sweetest creature on four legs. She was a mix or Quarter Horse and I think Icelandic Pony. At roughly 14 hands she was perfect for me at 10 years old. In the picture above she was about 31. It was my first horse show and her last...and as you can see she left the scene a winner. She got to spend the next few years kicking around the pasture. I miss that sweet girl I learned so much from her.
Grew up in the Mile High City. I now live in the Emerald City. I think I see a pattern here... |
There is Starsky and Hutch, Salt and Peppa, Batman and Robin, Peaches and Herb, BJ and the Bear...and now there is Beans and Rice. That is what Boyfriend has taken to calling us as a couple. I dunno...I kinda like it.
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