I’m not sure what’s happening to me.
Inching up to the septuagenarian mark and losing two beloved horses in two years had taken a toll.
Maybe this is what happens. Maybe I won’t take a bad fall off of a horse and not be able to ride. Maybe my heart will fall off a cliff and I’ll lose the desire to ride. Maybe that will be the metamorphosis of my equestrian life. Maybe I’ll care for my remaining horses and perhaps a few others and that will be enough.
At least that’s what I thought until Molly Malone walked into my barn and said, “Oh really?”
Not some older rock solid retired schoolmaster to carry me into the sunset. No, Miss Molly is a six year old off-the-track Thoroughbred mare with some opinions on how she is to be ridden.
Since cooling down from my years of going faster, jumping higher and turning quicker, I find myself backing way up to relearn the basics. I haven’t done much groundwork with a horse since rehabbing my first OTTB mare Lola from a racing injury 15 years ago. Yet here I am, lead rope in hand, focused, engaged and enjoying my horse in the arena like I seemed to not have been able to do in years.
So, it turns out that the ultra-dependable older horse that would have been the logical choice had zero appeal to me. But why?
Well, at this stage of life I’ve accumulated some knowledge, some experience and some patience. Maybe I was looking for a job that I was uniquely qualified for, with an equine partner to which I might have a chance at being a positive influence.
I don’t know what’s happening… but I like it.
I found out 25 years ago that for me, horses possessed a magic that was life changing. Now, I’m lucky enough to have the opportunity to rediscover it.