My
dad used to say, “the best and most important people in my life were
all met through horses.” And, I whole-heartedly agree with him. Now,
you could argue that because horses were so central to both of our
lives, it’s only natural that we’d meet our best friends through horses.
It makes sense that when you’re passionate about something you would
become close to people who share your passion. I am sure that
“dog-people”, “boating-people”, “skiing-people” and all other types of
people would probably say the same thing. Except, I do believe there is
something extra special about horse people, a certain brand of crazy
that we recognize in each other.
Horse
people will get up at 5:00 am with you, happily, to help you braid your
horse before a show. They will stand in the pouring rain to groom for
you at the show. They will answer the phone at 1:00 am and help you
with a colicky horse. They will hold your hand when you have to put
down your best friend. They will show up to bale and unload hay, if you
give them some beer (or sometimes even without the beer). They will
tell you, “of course, you should take that free horse--he’s got lots of
potential” and also tell you, “you need to get rid of that one before he
kills you”. They will give you the shirt off their back--as long as
you don’t expect it to be clean.
Horse
people are crazy. There is nothing necessary about a horse, except the
necessity to feed it and take care of it when it, inevitably, is sick or
hurt. There is not much hope of ever making money on a horse, although we all
dream of it someday. Even the best competition horses rarely win prize
money. The chances of selling your horse for more than you paid
is a pie-in-the-sky notion. They get sick, go lame right before the big
show, buck us off when a prospective buyer shows up, and do lots of
damage to our property. But, horse people continue to pour our time,
effort and money into our animals. To paraphrase a saying, “What would a
horse trainer do if she won $1,000,000? She would train horses until
it was gone.”
Although
we’re crazy, we’re also strong and optimistic. We have been through
heartbreaking losses, close calls, terrifying accidents. We have nursed
our animals from the brink of death and, at times, aided their peaceful
passing to the rainbow bridge. We have persevered through four feet of
snow, frozen water pipes, collapsed barn roofs, broken tractors,
drought, fire, and much worse. In the face of this, we remain optimistic and positive: "next year will be better", "that green colt will turn out OK, "we'll win the next class". For the most part, we don’t
waste time focusing on the negative--we’ve got too much work to do to
get our horse to the next level, out on the trail, or to the first show
of the season.
Recently,
I’ve been involved in the rescue of some severely starved and neglected
horses. In the face of the shocking broken-ness of the human race,
what did horse people do? They organized, they donated, they mucked
stalls, they begged, borrowed and bought hay, shavings, and food for
these animals. One of the starved horses was my childhood horse, Ben.
Once the news was out about that, my horse friends mobilized. Before I
met the person in charge of the rescued animals, at least two different
people had told him my story and begged that I may adopt Ben when this
is over. Through this emotional time, I have reunited with horsey
friends that I haven’t seen in years. People have spoken up for me,
offered to trailer Ben home (if I am allowed to adopt him), and even
donated money specifically for his care. Some have opened up their
homes to rescued animals and given their time over and over again to
help with the work.
My dad also used to say, when faced with a challenge, “Think of what you will learn”. What I’ve learned from the devastating news that my childhood horse was starved within days of his life is not a new lesson. I have learned that horse people will step in, get to work and turn a shockingly broken, sad, and heart-broken situation into a hopeful, cheerful, enthusiastic task.
