"I'm Not A Thoroughbred Person..."

That's what I used to think, and I probably even said it out-loud occasionally. Of course, I've since re-evaluated this position, and I've even written a blog post to dismiss the notion. It would be really easy for me to say I was just a "Chamie" person (my first horse, a QH/TB, or appendix Quarter Horse), or an "Ebony" person (my first full TB) or a "Miles" person (no descriptor needed;). Their breeds were incidental.

For the longest time I've had this idea in my head that I like calm horses. Very sane. Not unpredictable-a horse you can have fun with. Certainly ex-racehorses are the last thing that come to mind when you're looking for a horse you can count on to keep you safe.

Well, I'm here to tell you that's wrong. Hear me out.

First of all, the fact that all 3 of the horses I've owned in my life were TBs or half-TBs should say something about my level of ignorance and denial. The reason for such denial is this-I'm not a confident rider. I know, none of us are supposed to admit that, but there it is. I work on it everyday, and you know what? So do lots and lots of other riders. I have no hard facts whatsoever, but most of us have had bad falls, injuries, or at the very least real scares in our work with these large beasties. The fear, if you want to call it that, is always there-something bad could happen.

Of course, that doesn't stop us now, does it? ;) Just because I have a nagging in the back of my head reminding me of my mortality doesn't mean I don't absolutely love riding. It's a weird push-pull; life is short, so do what you love and live in the moment. Then the old survival instinct kicks in.

Naturally, then, one might conclude, "Well, if you're going to ride, and you don't have all the confidence of let's say, Lucinda Greene (eventer extraordinaire), perhaps you should at least ride a horse that decreases your chance of death". I hear this attitude everywhere, from various places on the Internet to some people I board with. Give me a good old Quarter Horse any day, they say.

To that I say you take your Quarter Horse, I'll take my TB. While I may not be brimming with confidence, I can usually fake it when things get a little hairy and I really need to, for Miles' sake. My TB may be a little spooky at times, but he has never offered a buck or a rear under saddle. After he settled into the routine at the barn, which took him about a month, he has been nothing but a gentleman to deal with on the ground. More than that, he has been a delight to work around, and to work with. His heart, and his try, are something I've never encountered in any horse I've ever ridden. He's so happy when he knows he's been a good boy. He loves to work, and to learn new things. While he can be lazy, I can always fix that by engaging his big TB brain with something interesting. I've never used spurs and never done more with my whip than tap his shoulder. I've had him for over a year now, and without a trainer we've progressed and improved together.

And you know what? He's not the exception. While of course I think he's special and amazing, most TBs are more like him and less like...whatever it is that "non-TB" people think they are.

Is he sensitive? Absolutely, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I have to be a good rider to ride him well. That same sensitivity, I believe, is also the reason we have bonded so well. We can read each other's needs to a certain extent and react accordingly. That sensitivity is also what keeps us safe in certain situations. I can't wait to see him in the woods-no, that's not a joke:)

Is he flighty and spooky occasionally? Sure. Still, it's very rare for him to spook, so rare that it's an event to blog about when it does happen. I've also found that I actually prefer this to a horse that offers a cow-hop or a buck when they don't feel like working on any given day. I honestly don't think Miles has ever considered such a thing-the only time I've seen him buck is when he's feeling good on the lunge (or he has sheath issues, ha ha).

Thoroughbreds, and OTTBs in particular do indeed have their own idiosyncrasies and quirks that other horses may not. Said another way, I don't think any other breed has their heart, their try, their love of "work"-why would you want to ride a horse that would rather be in the barn or their pasture? I dig the fact that Miles looks forward to hanging out with me, and he really is happiest in regular work. TBs require a light hand and a quiet ride, and experienced leadership above all. So, maybe they're not for everyone. Still, I wouldn't have This One any other way.

Yeah, I've used this pic before. Still, I loves it. Also, it was about 60 degrees warmer back then, siiiiigh.

Edited to add, in the harsh light of day: This post reads an awful lot like "Quarter Horses suck, TBs rule!" Sorry about that. I love me some Quarter Horses, really. This is a pro-TB post, not an anti-anything post.

Loss

Cutting to the chase of this post (as if the subject is hard to guess), I HATE that our animals don't live as long as we do. Sometimes, at the best age estimates, they don't live 1/10 of our lifespan.

I know this is a total bummer of a post. If you don't want to be further bummed, move along; it's OK. I'm rarely in the mood to read this kind of thing either.

I don't have children. I hope to, maybe one day...but maybe not. The point is, my animals have always been my children. People with actual offspring may find this statement offensive, and I apologize for that. I can only say I have suffered and grieved for every. single. animal I've ever owned in my life, past the age of maybe 8-before that I cried, but I don't know how much a young child can actually grieve. Anyway, it's a lot of loss, is what I'm saying.

The shortest life I've mourned was my ferret Franklin, who lived 5 years and died about 6 years ago. I adored that little guy-he was like a kitten on PCP all the time. Unfortunately, he was bred at some factory farm, and from ages 3 to 5 I was fighting an uphill battle against skin cancers, adrenal disease, enlarged spleens, you name it. He was SO full of life though-I handed over my hard earned dollars, and he inevitably bounced back from each procedure. Until one day he didn't. My point in telling his story is, it doesn't matter what the species is, or how long they are in our lives-if we have loved them, they stay with us. I wish I had a picture of him...ugh, I'd have to scan it. Anyway, he was white with red eyes anyway-not the most beautiful of animals,but it didn't matter. He was my boy.

Aside from Franklin, I've loved many dogs, cats, rodents and horses that have since left this Earth. It sucks, it's horrible, and it's an inevitable part of owning animals that we must accept if we are to love them fully and reap the wonderful rewards of sharing our life with them.

The person that keeps an "outside" dog or cat that passes away? Or any animal owner that keeps their pet at a distance-the person may be sad, but they will not feel the grief that those of us that let our animals fully into our lives know. They also will never know the complete joy and partnership of such a relationship. It's a heartbreaking bargain we make-the beautiful with the horrible.

I'm writing this now because my old dog Mojo, while still happy and plucky, is battling some kind of shitty, persistent inflammation that may get her in the end, if the drugs to combat it don't first.

I'm writing this now because one of my great barn friends is faced with making the most horrible and compassionate decision that we as horse owners will all have to make eventually, if we are in the horse "business" long enough. We're all still holding out hope...she is the best "horse mom" I know and will always do what's right. I feel for her.

I'm writing this now to work through the issues I still have around putting my mare down a little over a year ago, and adopting my heart horse a month later. Sometimes I feel like Karma has a target on my back, especially because Miles has been relatively drama free, other than the weight issue. I love and still miss Eb, so much. If something happened to Miles...no. I can't write anymore about that.

I'm writing this now because other people may be facing the same thing with the animal(s) in their life. It's so, so hard.

I truly find comfort in the fact that so many people have lost their own beloveds, and lived to tell about it-that may sound dramatic, but grief at it's worst feels...impossible. Going through the experience is something beautiful we all share. I, for one, can never regret the relationships I've shared with my animals, no matter how much I hurt when they are gone. It's a small price to pay for the years we've shared.

I'm writing this post to remember this, and to appreciate each and every day I share with the loves of my life, both human and non-human. It's a cliche. It's also true.

I have to go now. Mojo wants an extra slice of chicken, and I'm going to give it to her.

Miles' One Year (And Change) Anniversary

I'm a bad, bad horse mother. Actually, I'm just bad, bad with dates-birthdays, anniversaries, you name it (that Kyle's a lucky guy;). So when Miles' one year anniversary of coming to Michigan that marked the beginning of this long, strange, wonderful journey came and went on September 1st, I totally missed the boat.

Sorry Bubs. Here, have a meandering blog post filled with Odes to Miles.

Looking back to one year ago, of course, it wasn't all sunshine and roses. Who knows if I should have even thought about adopting another horse so soon after Ebony passed, let alone an OTTB? I questioned the wisdom of what I had done a lot in that first month, and of course I still missed Eb terribly. I tried not to compare Miles to her in those first days, but it was really hard not to as he was rearing up in the arena, screaming for other horses and looking anywhere but at me. Obviously, we worked through those issues, thank goodness!

It really wasn't just A horse I was looking for though, honestly. It was him. After seeing him on New Vocations website, I couldn't get him out of my head, and I never looked at other horses. Fate? I don't know about all that, but adopting him was certainly was the right thing to do, and in hindsight the only thing to do. I can't imagine having any other horse, or him ending up with any other owner. I'm still so, so grateful.

I couldn't be more pleased with where we are at this stage, a year later. I feel like we finally know each other, really, really well, and we trust each other (more or less-I haven't pushed those boundaries too far, admittedly. No trail ride yet, in other words. I'll get there!). Trust is pretty important when you're dealing with a 16.2 beast. It's funny, I always forget how tall he is now (again, I'm just used to him), until there's a new person at the barn, or someone asks, "How tall is he??" This is amusing to me because I'm used to being the person with the little quarter horse, and also because he would be about average in a barn full of hunter/jumpers or dressage horses. Surrounded by mostly stock horses and Arabians though, not so much. So yes, trust is a very, very good thing.

I love how respectful he is on the ground, and I'm proud of that-I've worked really hard with him to ensure his manners are what they should be, particularly because he gets led in and out of the barn a couple times a day by other folks. He's great about respecting my space, though he's still a little mouthy. He's never bitten, and it's all in "good fun" (I know, I know, not the ideal type of fun, particularly for humans). He just likes to mouth the lead line, or my jacket, or whatever is closest. I admit I think it's cute, but he will stop when I ask.

This brings me to the next thing I really adore about him-I don't think Miles has a malicious, mean or manipulative bone in his body. Of course he's not perfect, but in all instances whether on the ground or under saddle, he tries, and usually tries hard (that first week or two notwithstanding. And hey, I'm going to give him a break on that). I hate writing stuff like this because I'm superstitious, but he's never offered so much as a cow hop under saddle, let alone a real buck or rear. The one time I came off him we were outside the arena, he spooked, and simply wanted to get OUT of that area, and I was left behind. Hey, you can't have everything:) Still, I'll take that over a horse that wants me OFF their back. Miles can be lazy, but that's it. I am a FAR from perfect rider, but he puts up with me and lets me go at my own pace. He stands like a statue for mounting, isn't girthy and never avoids the bridle. Cripes, I don't think he even swishes his tail when he's annoyed. He's just a good-natured boy, who gives me the benefit of the doubt and likes working and hanging out with me in equal parts it seems.

Most of all, he is my sweet, sweet pony. He loves to (gently) push his head into me and just stand there while I rub his face. He's always looking to me for reassurance or just to see what I'm up to. I've never had a horse that actually looks back at me while I'm riding him, but he does, occasionally, just to check in I think. He's perfectly happy to leave his buddies to come with me, and he doesn't mind when his buddies leave him as long as I'm still there. These things didn't happen all at once, or all at the same time, but now it's all routine. It's a nice feeling.

Is he a "10" mover? No. Is he clumsy? Yep. Does he have OTTB moments? No doubt. Is he a ridiculously hard keeper? HELL Yes. Still...

I'll never get tired of his adorable face and those sweet nickers when I walk up to his pasture from the car. It's what keeps me making that loooong drive to the barn every day I can, even if it's not to ride. How could I let this face down?

Happy Anniversary Bubs. Thanks for an amazing year.

PS-I won't make this mistake twice. Your birthday is in October, and will include party hats!

A Small Request...

You all should go read my friend Amanda's blog right now and give her some love.

http://dungotclass.blogspot.com/

She has sooooooo much knowledge about horses, and helps me immensely with Miles. There's no way I can be at the barn every single day, and she is there for him to feed his beet pulp and bring him into the barn to hang out with everyone, which he loves. She gives me updates on his condition, and, well, she's just an awesome person with a TON of good stories to share. I really can't emphasize enough how she helped me in the beginning with Miles, when we were both driving each other crazy-she's the one who told me to be patient with his "busy TB brain" and pointed me towards resources that were a great help. She even let me practice techniques on her sweet mare Cody-THAT'S a good person:)

She's also pretty darn good with a camera and took a lot of the pictures on this blog:) I can't begin to tell you how great she was on the day Ebony was put down.

Anyway, she's a great friend who's got a lot on her plate with getting married and dealing with sweet Cody who's struggling with knee lameness, and she's another great addition to Mid-Michigan horse bloggers. Stop by and say hey!

One Year

This little note is less than she deserves but all I can muster without losing it, all over again. My sweet Ebony died a year ago today. I've been thinking about the anniversary of her death for a few weeks now, but it literally just now occurred to me today is the day. Lately when I think of her, it's with fondness and a profound gratefulness that we shared 2 years together, rather than sadness...she taught me so, so much, and I would not have felt able to take on an OTTB without her in my life. I know she and Miles would have adored each other-well, he would have adored her, and she would have tolerated his adoration. As it is, I hope she is gently bossing around another herd of mares and making the boys crazy, wherever she is. Still miss you, sweet girl.

I loved those ridiculous ears of hers.

The Time I Bit The Dust, Or Why I Worry About Letting Miles Down

When I adopted Miles from New Vocations, they told me he was fine in the arena, but what he really enjoyed were jaunts around the farm, and apparently he even walked down to their paved road, which is very quiet, for a nice ride. He just really, really loved getting out of the arena. Anna Ford rode him for me when I went to see Miles at their facility in Ohio, and while she didn't demonstrate his skills outside the arena, their ring is set up in such a way that there is a sand/working arena, as well as a grassy area attached in the same enclosure. Man, that facility is gorgeous.

Anyway, Miles clearly demonstrated a difference in the two areas. In the sandy area, his walk was a bit sluggish, his trot and canter a little tense, but as soon as she took him onto the grass he extended that stride of his into a beautiful free walk. We talked a bit and she told me this was his "happy walk", and he is most interested and "alive" under saddle outside the confines of a sand ring.

Therein lies my dilemma. I love love love this horse, and want him to be a happy boy. I honestly don't believe he is necessarily unhappy in our work currently-as mentioned earlier though, lately his natural inclination is not so forward:) There is no tail swishing, balking or any behavior I would consider problematic-he's just happy to jog and lope along if I let him. Luckily, one of the things I love about him is that when I do ask him to go forward, he will, with no snottiness.

When I take him out of the arena though...yeah, I have to admit he is a happy boy. He marches right along, just like I saw him do with Anna. I took him maybe 200 yards down a trail by himself a couple times, and he was great. I've not yet had the opportunity to take him out on a real trail ride, because I refuse to do that with just the two of us on our first time, though I'm sure we will have the opportunity to go out with someone's steddy-eddy trail horse this summer, hopefully soon. I should really be proactive and arrange it.

Blah blah blah...so the real dilemma is that I've fallen off Miles once, and of course it was outside the arena. It was March, before we had started cantering, and I was just starting him into "real" work, so I probably shouldn't have been doing ANYTHING outside the ring at all since we were still getting to know each other under saddle. It was a silly, stupid thing really.

We were just walking outside the arena (in a corner that, for some reason, Ebony never loved either), and there were some parked horse trailers and brush maybe 50 feet away (I'm horrid with distances). Anyway, he stopped. He didn't feel nervous to me at all, so I let him. He apparently saw or heard something and gave the classic sideways TB spook. Now, there were no witnesses, and y'all know how fast these things FEEL at the time, so all I can tell you is that spook put me totally off balance without either one or both stirrups (can't remember now). He was cantering/galloping (remember, this was before we had done more than walk/trot!) and he wanted to get out of there; I remember trying to do a half-assed one rein stop. At this point, I *think* I'm sort of half on/half off. I'm DEFINITELY telling him "whoaaaaa, whoaaaa" though I know my voice is pretty shaky. I'm thinking to myself "don't pull back on both reins, don't pull back on both reins", so I know I did that right. Sigh, one thing right.

If he had stopped , we would've been fine. However, every time he would slow a bit (I think he may have even trotted in there), my being off-balance freaked him out all over again and he would again adopt the "get me the hell outta here" mentality and start cantering/galloping-my no doubt poorly executed one rein stop was at least keeping him in the general area, which looking back on it was exactly the place he didn't want to be and maybe I should have just let him canter away like he wanted! I admit though, his canter/gallop scared me and all I wanted him to do was slooooooow down. Ebony and I had really struggled with our canter also, so I hadn't ridden a real canter in years at this point.

A fitter, stronger, more confident at-this-whole-cantering-on-my-horse Sarah probably would have stayed on. A Miles who actually listened to the word WHOA (no matter how shaky it may have sounded!) would have definitely prevented a fall. As it was, after approximately 5 or 10 seconds of this nonsense, I of course bit the dust. Thankfully, I wasn't seriously hurt, but falling off a 16.2 cantering (galloping?) thoroughbred onto hard ground doesn't leave you totally unscathed either.

Whatever, I was definitely sore (and holy hell do I still need to see a chiropractor at some point), but I got back on that little shit (I'm channeling my feelings at the time, of course;) and worked his ass in the ring, and then rode him out to that same area and walked back and forth a couple times. I got off, cooled him, and put him outside, then went home and proceeded to take some Motrin with more wine than I care to admit. Hey, it worked.

(Annoying Helmet Plug-I most definitely hit my head on the ground when I fell, and it bounced. My helmet didn't crack-though I know I need to replace it anyway. It's still the most important piece of equipment I'll ever own, and I won't get on a horse ever, ever again without one. I will never judge other people for how they choose to ride, but I hope more and more people who ride without one realize how easy it is for something bad to happen, and how important every single person is to SOMEONE else. End plug!)

So how is this all relevant now? I admit I've only gone past the scene of the crime on Miles once,
maybe twice, and I was less than super relaxed. I really, really want to trust him outside the arena, and I'm getting better, but I don't know that I still have the carefree attitude I had before he pulled his Hot Move. I hope to some day. I WILL some day.

Also, he's an OTTB-I really, really, REALLY want to canter him down a trail, or even just out in the grassy fields that surround our barn. And I WILL, no matter what, someday. I'm just...less than gung-ho about it right now, since our first experience cantering outside the safe confines of a ring was unexpected and kind of a disaster.

I know I'm a stronger rider than when we had this incident, and I think Miles might actually listen to me if I said WHOA now, no matter how shaky my voice is or how off balance I might be:) In fact, I'm pretty confident I wasn't forceful enough with my one rein stop, and that won't happen again, I hope. We have practiced both this and obeying voice commands since then. I have to say though, if I hadn't learned that skill, and if I hadn't had such great instruction from my last trainer who impressed upon me that pulling back on both reins in emergencies can escalate a bad situation into a horrible one, well, let's just say there are worse things than falling off the side of your horse as they gallop away (like rearing, still one of my greatest fears).

Sooooooo, this ridiculously long rambling post is really just me trying to work through a few issues. Am I being fair to Miles by keeping our work focused in the arena thus far? I do try to get him out every week or so, but I honestly don't trust him enough to do it much more than that, and we don't go far. I think, after our silly show next week, I'm going to make this our next goal-even if I can't get a trail partner, I can still take him around the farm and down the trail for a few hundred yards, especially with his new shoez! I can't wait to feel his power as we gallop down the trail-I don't think I'll have to keep him forward then:)

It will happen. We have so much time, all the time in the world, really. If you want to know an embarrassing secret, one of my favorite phrases to whisper to Miles is "Be patient with me. I will be patient with you". We are partners, fumbling our way through each others' strengths, neuroses, passions and weaknesses, one ride at a time.

Show Time!

Haha, of course not for me! The dressage show my barn is putting on is tomorrow-I'll be there bright and early to do the announcing for the morning. Ugh, I hope I don't blow it. Originally I was going to scribe in the afternoon but something came up. Still, I'm looking forward to it. You never know, maaaaaaaybe next year I won't be volunteering because I'll be riding. Maaaaaaaaybe.

I hope to have enough time after I'm done announcing to take Miles out to see the sights. If he has his wits about him I'd love to hop on and ride him for a bit before I have to leave.

I ran out to the barn at lunch today to feed him his beet pulp and clean him off a bit before tomorrow (WHY did I bother with the bath less than two days ago?). He and LaShore have now moved to the field next to their pasture (which is VERY grazed down) during the day, and this field has LOTS more grass , so I'm super happy about that and hope that will help cover those ribs of his even more. It's probably just a temporary situation, but I feel much better knowing he's got access to grass all day. Poor LaShore is a founder risk, so we have to watch him (and he's the reason they couldn't be out on rich grass before now), but honestly it's a small price to pay because those two get along SO well. After what happened with Ebony (being kicked) and Cody, another horse at the barn that went seriously lame after being kicked by a herd mate, having my boy out 24/7 with a horse that he can play with and yet I trust not to hurt him (and vice versa!) is invaluable.

Back to this afternoon-even with all that yummy grass he was eating at the far end of the field, as soon as he saw me he ran down to the gate, and if horses could smile I'm quite sure he would have been. I'm so, so lucky to have him-he made it almost impossible to go back to work;) He definitely makes it impossible for me not to grin like an idiot and laugh out loud at this horse I love so, so much.

Update: Whew, I am pooped! Super fun time this morning though, and I only announced the wrong entry once and quickly corrected it! Miles was a superstar-I had very little time so I dragged him out of the field, brushed him, threw the tack on him and led him into the chaos. He was looky and a bit tense under me, but other than that was happy to take in the sights and sounds without overreacting. I think we might have to enter our first show in July after all-gulp.

How Does One Become a Thoroughbred Person?

So, looking back on my previous blogs, it looks like I've started 90% of them with the word SO. This is the last one, if I have anything to say about it. If I slip, y'all are allowed fifty virtual lashings with a wet noodle.

Since I've started this blog, I have been absolutely OVERWHELMED by how much amazing writing there is on the interwebs about horses, dressage, OTTBs; I had NO idea, honestly. I've always been a slow learner, no doubt about that.

Anyway, it makes for great inspiration for blog topics-unless you guys want to hear more bitching about the weather, or maybe the bugs?? Yeah, I thought so.

I started riding at a hunter barn called Fox Brush Farm - A wonderful, non-snotty boarding/training facility, which emphasized safety over everything else. I started with weekly lessons, progressed to leasing horses and working there as much as I could, and then they helped me find Chami, best first horse ever.

Fox Brush had every breed of horse imaginable, though most of the lesson horses were Quarter Horses, Appaloosas, Paints or crosses thereof. Thoroughbreds? They were for the advanced riders ONLY, or they were training horses. I might lead them to and from their pastures, but none of the kids (I was there from ages 7 to 14) actually RODE them. I don't think that's so unusual either-a lot of people seem to start off their riding careers with similar experiences. Of course the Thoroughbreds were ridiculously beautiful, but they seemed so...HARD to me, with their athletic bodies and gorgeous heads that were usually perched on long, sinewy necks held high, high in the air. I had never been a rider brimming with confidence, so it was totally fine by me to keep riding the other horses, while leaving the "hard bodies" to people with more drive and experience while I admired them from afar.

Of course, when I (cough *my parents* cough) bought Chami when I was 14, she was technically an Appendix Quarter Horse (TB/QH cross). Let me tell you though, that mare sure looked and acted all QH. She was gorgeous to me, but she had that big 'ol QH butt and was an air fern-looking at food too long was not good for her waistline. Even at only 8 years old, she was a steady-eddy almost always, unless she saw a herd of cows (Serious cow-phobia. No horse is perfect). Anyway, I figured she was a fluke and got most of her QH mama and little to none of her TB daddy. Naturally, anytime she acted like a ninny I blamed it on the TB side:)

I didn't begin my voyage to being a "Thoroughbred Person" until I adopted Ebony a few years ago. Old stereotypes about TBs still danced in my head at that point. Granted, she was in her mid to late teens, and about as easy a keeper as you could find, but she was DEFINITELY a TB. Very, very sensitive and opinionated...you had to WORK for her respect. However, she didn't really have a serious spook in her, which was why I adopted her (well, the "free" price tag helped;). Again, I never was nor will I ever be brimming with unbridled confidence. She could balk, she could buck, she could be mad as hell at me...but man, when we finally figured each other out (I stopped forcing her to live in a stall half the day and do arena work ALL the time, and she figured out I wasn't going to tear her mouth off or beat her up for doing something bad, although she also couldn't get away with doing whatever she wanted-I think she had seen it all before me!), we had such great, great rides together. She was never overly-lovey, so any little gesture she offered me was pretty cool. She kept me thinking, always, when I was with her. After Eb, how could I go back to the stock horses? ;)

Enter Miles, who I'm obviously totally smitten with. After Eb's passing, I looked on DreamHorse and some other sites for horses of all breeds, but the sites I kept going back to (and the horses that inevitably caught my interest the most) were, you guessed it, Thoroughbreds. After reading Miles' New Vocations profile and watching his video, I couldn't think of any reason NOT to go see him. Also, at an adoption price of $400-come on, I'm still pretty sure I got away with highway robbery.

Of course, he was everything I wanted, and everything I didn't know I wanted. Now he is NOT perfect...I'm still a little ticked at him for dumping me back in March when he gave just enough of a spook to put me off balance, and then would not simply WHOA so I could right myself, but that's another blog! Mostly, he has become my best friend, who lets me know exactly where I stand. He's so, so excited to see me when I come out to the barn-when I get out of the car and he can see it's me-well, I'd really like to get it on video some day:) He can be lazy but will never be the kind of horse you have to nag or really get after to be forward. He listens to me on our rides and even if he doesn't understand something the first time, once he really "gets it", he gets it for good. Smarty Pants. He can get anxious but gives me the benefit of the doubt that I won't ask him to go somewhere or do something unsafe or that we can't handle together. He looks to me to keep him safe. He is mouthy and obnoxious. He's my boy:)

So am I a Thoroughbred person? I suppose I am. I still want my Andalusian one day! Also, I will never be super excited to ride a spooky, reactive horse-though one great thing I've learned is that OTTBs are often MUCH less spooky than other horses, because they have SEEN and LIVED through the kind of loud, high-stress environments that would cause a full-on meltdown in many other horses.

I think a lot of horse people would tell you a TB's heart can't be beat (har har), and usually they are talking about their courage as athletes. Of course they ARE athletic-and though as a lowly pleasure rider this has never been my #1 priority, I admit I love Miles' gorgeous muscle-butt, and his awesome, solid yet gracefully long neck. "Heart" is more than athleticism and the courage to tackle a cross-country course, though-it's also that joie de vivre! A love of living, and curiosity in all things-from your pasture mate to your handlers to that crazy girl who comes out and rides you and babbles at you and keeps kissing your forehead. Man, Miles has that in SPADES, and I think a lot of Thoroughbreds do too.

Yeah, count me in. I'm a Thoroughbred person.

I wish I could capture a picture that does him justice one day...the big pic at the top of this blog is the closest I've got, and I didn't take it! Still, this face is what gets me, every time I see it.




What about you? Is there a breed that you naturally gravitate to, or are you more individual-horse specific? If you have a favorite breed, what about that breed "gets" to you, or do you love most? I love hearing what other people's passions are, and why!

A History in Horses

I've been riding since I was 7. I started off at a wonderful hunter barn, taking lessons and leasing horses, where I learned to jump small fences and show in the occassional schooling show. Everyone should start with such a solid foundation. I finally convinced my parents to buy me a horse when I was 14. She was a plain bay appendix Quarter Horse mare, small, could jump to the moon and was everything I needed. Her name was Champagne on Ice (I know, I know...we called her Chami). She carried me through high school, equestrian team, 4-H, hunter paces, hunter shows and even a parade. She was a perfect first horse, and the kind of jewel I couldn't appreciate until later, although I certainly did love her very much, and still do.

I lost myself somewhere in my early 20's and sold her for one dollar to the people that owned the boarding barn she lived at...I thought she would be much happier as a little girl's love, and I was right, at the time. My own issues did not bode well for horse ownership. Looking back, I'm still not sure what happened to me.

In my late 20's I got my stuff together (well, it's a work in progress), and of course I again became obsessed with horses and riding and wanted my mare back. She was in her 20's by then and owned sure enough by a girl who loved her, just as it should be. I thus began my search to buy my first horse as an adult.

I found Ebony 3 years ago, very soon after starting dressage lessons. She was 18 years old, black, and the definition of a opinionated mare. I loved her, and no matter her mood swings, she was never spooky or dangerous (though she had definite opinions about things, no doubt, and I'll admit in the beginning she scared me sometimes). I actually acquired her via a "Lifetime Lease" from a rescue organization which I signed before even riding her...in fact, she had not been ridden for over a year when I stepped into the picture. I kept her at an amazing dressage barn for the first 3 months, and thank goodness got a solid foundation with which to work with her. I owned and loved Eb for almost 2 years, and the day I got a call from the barn that she was injured was one of the worst of my life. It was a freak thing, but that didn’t change the fact that her leg was shattered. I watched her as they humanely euthanized her, and it was horrible and beautiful. She had amazing grace, and was a force to be reckoned with right to the end.

About a month later, I found Miles. It doesn't seem right or fair that I found my "heart horse" so soon after Ebony's death and the guilt still gets me from time to time. I cannot deny however, that after a very rocky first month together, Miles has become a true part of me in a way that no horse has before. It's hard to explain...it's more than the nickers of recognition and the sweet horse breaths he gives me. He is my partner in every sense that a horse can be. My other half in this life, as animals go (my lovely husband is ridiculous in his support and I think would understand this sentiment). Miles is my link to my better self, the mystical and serene. I know, barf. Still. He’s amazing. I've been privilaged enough to own and ride some great horses in my life, so I don't say these things lightly. You can see Chami with my 15 year old self (I swear I don't bleach my hair any longer) on the left and Ebony on the right. I still miss my girls.