Looking for our first horse

[This is an installment in "How we got into horses". See the right sidebar for other posts.]

My husband and I had given our oldest daughter (who was then 9) a full year of borrowing a horse for 4-H and it seemed her ardor had not cooled.

So we began looking for our first horse in 2005. (Wow, has it really been four years ago?)

My husband scoured horse websites. I looked at postings at the local feed store. Most were too far away to see. Most also said, "Needs work". I made flyers and put out the word that we were looking for a "kids horse".

The first person that responded met us at a pasture at the west end of town. The horse, a small bay gelding, had already been tacked up. I didn't know much about riding then, but I couldn't very well let on. I told the owners I would ride the horse since my oldest daughter wasn't with me then.

Either the horse was really not reliable, or I was nervous (most likely this), but the horse kept moving away from me. There were other red flags about the horse, which eventually led to me saying no, thanks.

What's ironic is that later, I saw an ad for this horse on the community bulletin board; he was being touted a "kids' horse". But a friend of mine who trains horses said the owner hired her to train this very same horse so it wouldn't go ballistic every time they rode it.

***
We saw a few more horses. It was February, which is a good time to see horses in a glut of a market (people not wanting to feed horses through the winter), but also the worst time because horses haven't been ridden in a while. One had cool medicine hat markings, but wild-pushy.

Nothing promising.

***
I told a friend in our church we were looking for horses. A few weeks later, she told me that she had a friend who was selling her gray quarter horse mare named Wixie. My friend was all compliments about her friend and her horse, and I decided she was worth taking a look at.

Next post: Buying our first horse

History: Horse Audition

[This is an installment in "How we got into horses". See the right sidebar for other posts.]

I got C's name from someone, I forget now who. I looked her up in the phone book,got her husband's name, and left a message. She called me back later that evening.

"Is this Jewel?" she asked. She had a loud voice, so loud that even when I put the earpiece away from me, I could still hear her clearly. First thing she told me was that her husband didn't like horse phone calls at his place of business (which is what I called at first) so to call her on her cell number next time.

C ran "Stable X". I asked her if she did riding lessons, that I was interested for my children to take turns (at $20 a child for an hour, that was about all we could afford).

"Sure," she said. "Come this Wednesday to the riding arena just outside of town."

I mentioned to her that we were seriously thinking about buying a horse. Her voice perked up. She asked me what we were looking for and I told her: older horse, reliable, good-tempered; someone that would not hurt our children, though Sierra would be the main rider. She asked me how much experience Sierra had. When I said 4-H, she told me she had a four year old mustang that might be a good fit, even though she was young.

***

It was a frigid day; we arrived at the arena wearing gloves. A woman in a purple jacket with the stable logo was standing with some girls by a horse trailer. She looked like she was in her fifties, with a curly head of graying hair under an earmuff band, face devoid of makeup with chapped lips. She gave me a welcoming smile, and I instantly warmed to her. But just when I thought she was all warm and fuzzy, BAM! She railed into one of the other kids over something.

Her "storm" passed quickly and she led us inside the arena where Pixie, the mustang, was hitched up at. She was a gray horse, on the small side, with short legs and a rounded body. With C's very minimal help (a teaching philosophy which I think is great in hindsight, but I didn't think so then, scared as I was of the horses)Sierra tacked up Pixie. The two younger children and I climbed up onto the bleachers and I watched with pride as Sierra got Pixie to walk and trot.

Pixie was trotting towards the middle of the arena when all of a sudden, she bolted. Sierra stayed on through the sudden takeoff but looked rattled. Apparently, a big drop of melting ice from the ceiling had fallen on Pixie's back and spooked her.

"What do you think of her?" C asked me as we were untacking Pixie.

"I don't know," I admitted. "She seems sweet enough, but she's so young."

"Why don't you think about it?" she asked. "Sierra can keep taking lessons on her. That'll be great for Pixie, too. They can learn together."

I thought it sounded like a good plan. As fun as Pixie seemed to be, I didn't feel confident in saying "She's the one." Not to mention, I wanted to postpone our decision.

***

During the next few months, the kids took turns taking riding lessons. C was often not diplomatic in her criticism, and sometimes my son would cry, but the kids listened.

Next: Looking for our first horse

In one piece

For the first time ever, yesterday, I hauled a horse trailer by myself without my husband there coaching me. Sierra guided me back, and she told me, "You did everything you were supposed to." We loaded two horses, I drove them down to the next town, and everyone was still in one piece!! Sierra said, "Yehey! We got here safely!"

It's amazing the things you learn how to do when you are desperate.

Actually, I'm glad I had to do this. I feel like hauling the horses across town, just for fun. Well, not quite...

History: My first horse experience

[This is an installment in "How we got into horses". See right sidebar for other posts.]

I was probably 12. One Sunday afternoon, Dad took me and my brother to Quezon Circle Park, which was just a short walk away from the government housing we lived at. Dad decided we should ride a horse; someone was giving rides for a certain amount of money for an hour.

My brother got to go first. I was so excited, but when a half hour came and they were still not within sight, I began to worry. The hour was almost up, and they hadn't returned. Finally, in the dusk, I saw my brother being led on a horse by the operator. I had maybe five minutes. So I sat in that saddle, trying to hold back tears, and instead of focusing on the fact that I was on a horse, all I could think of was being so mad with my brother.

Years later, I have three horses at my disposal, and if I actually ride any one of them for five minutes, it's short of a miracle.