What is the Perfect Horse? I think most of us have daydreamed of it-- images of a majestic black stallion with a flowing mane and tail, or golden palomino mare with a perfect blaze come to mind. But I don't think that is the Perfect Horse. I think the Perfect Horse is more like the one that I rode as a kid on a ranch, a horse that is less of a fantasy and more of a teacher and friend. The Perfect Horse isn't necessarily stunningly beautiful; In fact, he's probably gotten a few scars and dings from life. He's probably been hurt but lived through it, been scared but overcome it, and ready to teach his rider to do the same. The Perfect Horse is not just arena-ridden. He will let you feel what it's like to gallop into the ocean waves, chase a neighbor's cows, or play tag on horseback. The Perfect Horse will buck you off when you deserve it, but wait patiently for you to get back on.The Perfect Horse has problems; He will teach you to deal with them. The Perfect Horse knows that you can't learn to be a skilled horseman if everything goes your way.The Perfect Horse will challenge you, but only as much as you are ready to handle. He will teach you that you still have more to learn. The Perfect Horse is tough; He will gallop when he's too tired, jump obstacles that are too high, and go up hills that are too steep. He can handle the results of your ignorance or youth. He will make you, years later, look back and shake your head in amazement, and think, "I can't believe he did that for me".The Perfect Horse is not, however, a superhorse. He may go lame or colic, or suffer from an abcess. He will teach you there is more to horsemanship that just riding. The Perfect Horse will forgive you when you make mistakes, and expects you to do the same. He will try to ignore the tack that doesn't fit right, the confusing signals, and will do his best to please. The Perfect Horse will not live on air. He will need food and water daily and a clean shelter to live in. He will teach you to work, but it will be worth it.The Perfect Horse may not be the prettiest or the fastest, but he has the most heart. When he wins a ribbon, you know he really deserved it. The Perfect Horse loves a good carrot and a pat on the neck. In fact, that is his greatest reward; A little treat, a little love, and appreciation is what the Perfect Horse lives for. My Perfect Horse was-- and still is-- my little chestnut quarter horse, Quin, and I dedicate this essay to him. Your Perfect Horse may be different. He or she may be all of the above or not. He may be old or young, a pony or a draft horse. He may have more problems or more attributes. But if you're smiling, crying, or understanding as you read this, then chances are you too have known a Perfect Horse. |
| THE PERFECT HORSE |
"Cowgirl is an attitude. A pioneer spirit, a special American brand of courage. The cowgirl faces life head on and makes no excuses. Cowgirls take stands. They speak up. They defend the things they hold dear. A cowgirl might be a reiner, or a hunter jumper, or a barrel racer, or a dressage rider. But she's just as likely to be a checker at the local grocery store, a full-time mother, a banker, an attorney, an astronaut The spirit is still alive today in the women who want to be able to saddle their own horses, hitch up their own trailers, raise their kids and succeed in a career, sometimes even beyond their wildest cowgirl dreams." by Dale Evans |
connection.... Our lives with horses are rich with feeling. If you've ever... Choked back tears watching a new foal wobble to his feet for the first time... Or watching your good horse wobble to his feet after surgery... Or seen the ends of the reins float straight out as a reining horse spins beneath them... Or chuckled to yourself as you watched a tiny tot on a patient pony trot through a barrel pattern at a saddle club play day... Or felt the building tremble as an eight-up hitch of feather-legged giants pulled a hand-carved beer wagon into the arena... Or had your heart stop when you saw your horse lying motionless in the pasture on a sunny day -- and waited breathlessly to see an ear flicker... Or cheered at the screen when The Man From Snowy River slid Dunnie down the mountainside, or when Seabiscuit made his final surge to beat War Admiral... Or cruised along the highway and seen a horse in the pasture and wondered what he's like to ride...or pictured him as a prospect... Or sucked in your breath as a horse and rider approached a six-foot wall... Or sworn a solemn oath to your horse that together you would triumph...Or flipped through the TV channels and stopped when you saw a horse...even when it was a commercial.. . Or laughed aloud when you rubbed your horse's face and he rubbed back... Or gotten chills hearing Dave Johnson's "...and DOWN THE STRETCH THEY COME!" (Or "Run For The Roses" circa 1980ish?) Or stood in awe at your horse in morning play as he sprinted around the pasture, then stopped, head erect, and snorted defiance at the rest of the world... Or been thankful to see wild horses grazing casually at the foot of a hill... Or felt calmed by the sleekness of a silky haircoat beneath your hand... Or felt your jaw drop as you watched a Lipizzaner perform a capriole... Or if you've ever seen someone in the grocery store wearing a certain kind of hat or boots or buckle, or have a certain cut and length to their jeans...and felt some remote kind of connection.. . Or felt warmed by a soft-nicker greeting you as you entered the barn...many times. If you've ever been moved by any of these feelings, you know you are a horse person. Thank goodness we have our love of horses to help us on our journey. One of Gods greatest gifts to us!! |
| OUR LIVES WITH HORSES |
I ride. That seems like such a simple statement. However as many women who ride know, it is really a complicated matter. It has to do with power and empowerment. Being able to do things you might have once considered out of reach or ability. I have considered this as I shovel manure, fill water barrels in the cold rain, wait for the vet/farrier/electrician/hay delivery, change a tire on a horse trailer by the side of the freeway, or cool a gelding out before getting down to the business of drinking a cold beer after a long ride. The time, the money, the effort it takes to ride calls for dedication. At least I call it dedication. Both my ex-husbands call it ‘the sickness’. It’s a sickness I’ve had since I was a small girl bouncing my model horses and dreaming of the day I would ride a real horse. Most of the women I ride with understand the meaning of ‘the sickness’. It’s not a sport. It’s not a hobby. It’s what we do and, in some ways, who we are as women and human beings. I ride. I hook up my trailer and load my gelding. I haul to some trailhead somewhere, unload, saddle, whistle up my dog and I ride. I breathe in the air, watch the sunlight filter through the trees and savor the movement of my horse. My shoulders relax. A smile rides my sunscreen smeared face. I pull my ball cap down and let the real world fade into the tracks my horse leaves in the dust. Time slows. Flying insects buzz loudly, looking like fairies. My gelding flicks his ears and moves down the trail. I can smell his sweat and it is perfume to my senses. Time slows. The rhythm of the walk and the movement of the leaves become my focus. My saddle creaks and the leather rein in my hand softens with the warmth. consider the simple statement; I ride. I think of all I do because I ride. Climb granite slabs, wade into a freezing lake, race a friend through the manzanita all the while laughing and feeling my heart in my chest. Other days just the act of mounting and dismounting can be a real accomplishment. Still I ride, no matter how tired or how much my seat bones or any of the numerous horse related injuries hurt. I ride. And I feel better for doing so. The beauty I’ve seen because I ride amazes me. I’ve ridden out to find lakes that remain for the most part, unseen. Caves, dark and cold beside rivers full and rolling are the scenes I see in my dreams. The Granite Stairway at Echo Summit, bald eagles on the wing and bobcats on the prowl add to the empowerment and joy in my heart. I think of the people, mostly women, I’ve met. I consider how competent they all are. Not a weenie amongst the bunch. We haul 40ft rigs, we back into tight spaces without clipping a tree. We set up camp. Tend the horses. We cook and keep safe. We understand and love our companions, the horse. We respect each other and those we encounter on the trail. We know that if you are out there riding, you also shovel, fill, wait and doctor. Your hands are a little rough and you travel with out makeup or hair gel. You do without to afford the ‘sickness’ and probably, when you were a small girl, you bounced a model horse while you dreamed of riding a real one |
I RIDE
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