My Rebound Boyfriend

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No, I haven’t left my husband for the pool boy, I don’t even have a pool. This is another kind of boyfriend.

 

Jimmy Wofford, the famous coach and Olympic and World Champion eventing competitor wrote about a special horse in his book Take a Good Look Around: “The moment I slid onto his back it felt as though I were putting on a glove. That horse was Carawich. I rode him for four years and there was never a time when I did not feel that he could read my mind.” 

In August of 2015, I thought I’d found my special horse. Maybe not as talented as Carawich, but one that was close enough for me. I was convinced, not immediately when I climbed aboard, but when I hopped him over a jump. It brought tears of joy to my eyes.

Imagine my disappointment when I got that same horse home and things began to go south. No matter how much I tried to reassure him or how I rode him, things deteriorated to a point where I felt like the poor horse was convinced that the sky was going to fall any minute, and he used every opportunity to try to convince me that disaster was imminent. That kind of ‘conversation’ with my horse at every ride chipped away at my own self confidence. It reminded me of other difficult times in my life — and worse, they started to catch up with me. Usually, it was around 3 a.m. when all the dark, negative thoughts and memories came back to life, circling my bed as I tried to sleep. 

We’ve all had tough times. They make us stronger and teach us many things. But I’d become so vulnerable that I couldn’t get it all into perspective. One low point was when I turned into a quivering mess who couldn’t even persuade my horse to canter during a riding lesson. It was only the fear of what everyone would think that kept me from climbing off the horse and falling into a sobbing heap in the arena dirt. So I sucked it up and cantered the horse, then made the decision to sell him. To my great relief, a friend bought him and they are doing just fine together. 

But I remained a nervous wreck and I wondered how just riding a horse had pushed me to that point. After all, I’d been a successful fox hunter for years, and before that had won at Training Level Eventing — jumping 3’3″ jumps across country at speed. What exactly had changed me into the mess I’d become? My trainer summed it up best when she said that a bad match with a horse can take away so much.

I told myself that it was like a bad relationship with a boyfriend, so I found another one. 

My Rebound Boyfriend is Dancer, a fifteen-year-old palomino with a broad background that may include western, dressage and who knows what else. He quietly came into my life in the form of a lease, and he has taken on the job of teaching me that he can do calm transitions in gait when I need him to. The ‘conversation’ with him does not have anything to do with expecting imminent disaster, it is more along the lines of, “I’ve got this, just please lighten your pull on the reins to stay off my mouth.”

Because it is so much more relaxing to ride a horse with balanced transitions who doesn’t have to run like a freight train to go into a canter, I am getting back some of what had slipped away when riding my last horse, during those ‘conversations’ where he tried to convince me that the sky was falling and a disaster was waiting around the next corner. 

Riding Dancer, my “Rebound Boyfriend,” the sky is a little brighter these days and it is staying up where it should be. 

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Opening Hunt

Opening Hunt

Me on Ivan at Opening Hunt

Photos by artbyjewel.com

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Ivan and I leading the field back at the end of closing hunt. Notice the braided mane!

Me on Couraggio

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A Horse Mooch

I no longer own my own horse. Even though it’s been a few years now, that fact still bothers me a little bit. Through the years (don’t ask how many), I’ve started six horses. I miss the training, the goal setting and the satisfaction from the progress of working with my own horse.

Although I’m horseless, I still get to ride in the local fox hunt. My husband and I have managed to get a lease arrangement with some friends for two nice field hunters. But when they had to stay at home recently because they caught a bug going around, I was reminded that I’m blessed to have such generous friends. My good friend Tracy loaned me her experienced hunter to ride last weekend. He’s Couraggio, formerly known as Courageous, and although he’s a very big, tall guy he’s calm but a lot of fun.

So, I don’t own my own horse (yet), but I do enjoy the success of my youngest daughter as she rides and shows an amazing jumper. I live a little bit vicariously through her and through the kids in my middle grade mystery series that I am writing. And like some teenagers, I occasionally mooch rides on friends horses. I just don’t dress like one. A bikini is no longer in my summer wardrobe.