To recap the unprecedented year that was, we asked horsemen and women from all spectrums of the industry to write a holiday letter to the year 2020. This is the fourth and final one, courtesy of HN’s arts and culture editor, Gretchen Lida. Dear 2020, If you were a horse, your registered name would be…
One of the benefits of being a >shudder< senior citizen in the horse world is having much more clarity to see the big picture. Or, at very least, to see things from a different perspective: the perspective of the rear view mirror. It’s much easier to see the orderly plan of life from this perspective…
When we adopted Ping Ping in November 2018, it was only 15 days before she would have aged out of the system in China. Orphans there must be adopted by their 14th birthday or lose the chance of finding a family. Growing up in an industrial city in Northern China, Ping Ping spent most of…
I am isolating at a friend’s farm for a few days, and storms rolled in over her back pasture for the past two nights. The night before last, the thunder gurgled before sunrise. Lightning flickered through the window, illuminating the room in white, a stark contrast to the occasional golden headlights of cars passing on…
Read More The Spanish Riding School’s Barn Cat and Other Things that Remind Us the World Isn’t Over
In this time of quarantine, we’ve all learned to live differently, each in our own way, reflecting on what’s important in life. But for me, it’s not a new normal. I feel like I started this journey long before COVID-19 arrived. For the past year, I’ve been in recovery from a traumatic riding injury—and I’ve…
It had been a while since I’d been to a seven-year-old’s birthday party, but from what I remember, they didn’t normally have bears in them. Teddy bears, sure. But black bears? Nope. It probably shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. It was the middle of July and I was working at a trail stable…
The house I grew up in was a charming little Cape Cod in a post-war development of similar homes on the North Shore of Long Island, NY. It sat on a lot measuring 60 X 100 feet, but it seemed much bigger to us. Behind the maple tree in the back yard, the terrain dropped off…
“Our truest life is when we are in dreams awake.”—Henry David Thoreau On a chilly Thanksgiving weekend, I chatted with my riding teacher and a few other friends on horseback as I sat atop Shadow, one of the two horses I ride. Getting married was on my mind for some time. My fiancé and I…
“Lots of bugs this summer! That’s probably why this horse has glassy eyes,” was the diagnosis a local vet gave when I had a bony three-year-old inspected for sale. I happily believed him, as I’d already fallen in love with the dull-coated Quarter Horse who was routinely pushed from the communal feeding trough by stronger…
“I got a horse you need to try out,” dad said, for seemingly the hundredth time. My go-to response kicked in. “I already have a horse and I don’t need another.” “Just take a look,” he replied. We walked out to the paddock. Upon first glance, the horse in front of me was decidedly unimpressive.…
“Horses will always be waiting for you.” It’s a well-intentioned reassurance often uttered by loved ones who’ve never experienced the isolation of a hiatus from horses. It’s the same one my fiancé offered me after the doctor ordered me to stop riding due to minor pregnancy complications that could worsen by the turbulence of a…
My horse is my extra-terrestrial, like in the movie E.T. He has seasonal allergies, I have seasonal allergies! He has a touch of navicular; I have plantar fasciitis. He needs pads in his shoes, I wear pads in my shoes. He coughs when we canter, I have an asthma attack. As we’ve gotten older, so…
Read More Lessons in Aging from My 16-Year-Old Quarter Horse
It’s been nearly 25 years since I got my USEF judge’s license. Yet, I can still easily remember the young girl I used to be, sitting ringside with a notebook and a pencil, “judging” classes for fun. When the jog was called, I nearly shook with anticipation, waiting to hear whether I had recorded the…
When people find out that you’re a horsewoman with an autoimmune disorder, they have a tendency to offer helpful advice. The world is filled with well-intentioned people, after all. But sometimes, well, most of the time, those well intentions make me want to punch you in the face. Since the last article about my disorder…
My first boss was a middle-aged man from Munich. With the charred end of a cigarette hanging from his mouth, he’d regale anyone willing to listen with the story of how he was dropped on the shores of the United States by his wealthy father 30 years earlier. He wheezed between words as he coughed…
I searched for you for two years before I bought you sight unseen off the internet. You were an older model Ford F150, nine years old to be exact. You looked like you had been well-cared for and sported low mileage. I’d saved up the cash to pay for you in-full at the dealership. My…
