When I was a young girl I galloped everywhere hitting
my thigh to go faster on my imaginary horse. I galloped through fields and
woods leaping logs, galloped across the road to my cousin’s house or to my
grandparents’ farm and sometimes further down the road to another cousin’s
house. Sometimes I rode Wildfire, and sometimes it was Thunderhead or Flicka or
another horse in my stable of horses. I dreamed of someday having a ranch in
the west with hundreds of horses.
I think my love of horses came from the story my dad
told of a pony he rode one summer in the mining town in Pennsylvania where he
grew up. My grandfather was foreman of the mining stable. The superintendent of
the mine bought a beautiful black pony for his son, and it was kept in the
mining stable. The pony tossed the boy the first time he tried to ride it so
the superintendent asked my father, about the same age as his son, to ride and
gentle it. All summer my father rode that pony, but the superintendent’s son
never got over his fear of it so the pony was eventually sold.
During my galloping period, I read every horse book in
my small rural library numerous times, and at Christmas I usually got a horse
book, too. I dreamed of horses and drew pictures of horses, but I was
thirty-eight years old before I finally got my first horse. My husband heard of
a horse for sale and took me to see it. Of course, I fell in love with that
strawberry roan paint. I thought he was beautiful. A few days later he was
delivered. We had no barn, no saddle or bridle or even a lead rope. We did have
hay, grain and a water bucket.
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| My son Joey with Nikki |
We put him in a shed and a few days later my husband
and young teenage sons started building a barn – a large barn with five stalls.
A week after my horse arrived, I now had a saddle and bridle. I was ready for my first ride on my very own
horse. Now, mind you, my riding had been very limited over the years. Mostly it
was while we were on vacation and found a riding stable where you paid for an
hour ride with a group on trails following a guide. Seldom did we move out of a
walk, but maybe we’d trot a little and once in a great while gallop for a few
minutes. Neither my husband nor I had ever saddled a horse, but we’d watched
while these trail horses were saddled so we knew how to do it. Or so we
thought.
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| My daughter Sue on Nikki. |
As soon as the horse was saddled, I mounted and headed
down a trail into the woods beside our home. He was a high stepper and both of
us were eager to be out and on the trail. I was euphoric. His ears were perked
forward interested and curious as we went along. And then I turned him around
to head back. Maybe I should have thought twice about buying a horse named
Rebel because as soon as we were heading back, he took the bit in his mouth,
and I couldn’t slow him down. He was heading home, and just where that home was
in his mind, I didn’t know. It was then I felt the saddle slip. I learned from
that experience, you always tighten the girth, wait a bit for the horse to
relax and then tighten it more. Anyway. the saddle slipped and ended up under
Rebel. Fortunately, I was able to kick my feet free from the stirrups and
landed on the ground still holding onto his reins so he didn’t end up in some
other county. He jumped about trying to get rid of that thing, but fortunately,
I was able to unbuckle the saddle and not get kicked or stepped on.
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| My daughter Mary on Tequila |
So at the end of my first ride on my very own horse, I
walked home with a saddle on my back now leading a docile horse. It wasn’t
exactly the way I had envisioned that first ride. Eventually, Rebel was sold.
He was a rebel. Over the years there were other horses and ponies. Once we had
five at one time, one we boarded for a friend. My four kids joined 4H, and I
became proficient at saddling and caring for horses. I learned to pull a horse
trailer to take them to shows and for riding lessons and even took riding
lessons, too.
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| Mama Cietta and Phoebe |
Then there came a day when I had to move. I had to
sell my last two horses because I didn’t have the money to put new fencing
around the pasture of the small farm I bought. The house needed too many
repairs and the barn needed a new roof. But my love of horses never went away.
However, I down sized the dream. I bought a seven-month old pony I named Puffy,
and her mother. The following spring, Mama Cietta had another little filly I
named Phoebe, because that was when my phoebes returned. I didn’t have enough
room in my small pasture for three ponies so when Phoebe was weaned, I sold the
mother because she had been broke to ride. Now I have two totally useless small
ponies – sisters – that I rationalize keeping as being compost makers for my
gardens, but it’s really because I love them.
What dream did you have when you were young? Did it
ever come true?
