I was introduced to horses by my father when about 5 years old. From that moment on they became part of my soul. I can still remember my first trail ride on Old Red at a dude ranch in Upstate New York. In my eyes he was the most beautiful creature to walk the earth. In reality he was a run down trail horse with a soft spot for a gentle girl with stars in her eyes. I was the first 5 year old they ever let out on the trails..yes..I was just as persistent even back then.
It was hard to keep me away from the barn from that point on. I’d scream “horses!!” at each passing farm. I’d torture my parents to take me riding. A pony ride, a trail ride, whatever would allow me to be near these majestic animals. We would vacation every summer at a dude ranch. I couldn’t tell you a single other amenity they had as I made it my mission to be a barn rat. I started running around on all 4 legs and encouraging my friends to do so as well I might add. My parents finally caved in to getting me riding lessons. I’m sure the conversation of lessons being cheaper than therapy came up as my abilities advanced to jumping fences and mastered the sound of a calling horse to the point even the horses couldn’t tell the difference. That was it. I was officially hooked.
My first horse Kerry came along when I was 14. I wouldn’t quite say love at first site. It was more I was the only one that could stay on that crazy mare so let the kid have it purchase. I worked at a veterinary office close to home and cleaned stalls to pay my board. That horse got me through so much. I had friends, but I didn’t let my guard down with them like I did with her. She knew everything, and somehow always made it better. Whether it was a trail ride in tears or an angry rebellious gallop over fences I shouldn’t have been jumping, she would always bring me home with a clean slate to start over with.
Years past and I was introduced to my riding trainer Beny. That’s when I truly found my passion. Beny introduced me to dressage, which is essentially ballet for horses. Who would think I would be good at it? I couldn’t dance, I had no rhythm at all, yet put me on a fancy horse and my word could we dance. I’d hear the silence from the air stopping when I entered the ring. I’d find the magic within whatever horse I worked with and together we would always surprise ourselves. It was the experience of a lifetime.
That’s when I came to a point in my riding career where I had to choose between going professional or a glorified hobby. The reality was I had a pretty serious injury (refer back to the crazy mare nobody could stay on). I wasn’t confident my body could hold up riding 10 horses a day for the next 20/30 years. I also wanted a family and should I have continued I would have been all in. There wouldn’t have been time for anything else. The true holdback I struggled with was I loved horses..all of it. Not just riding. I enjoyed grooming them, spending time with them, listening to them. It’s difficult to go to the next level and be able to have time to enjoy the other aspects outside of riding..and a family? Yeah that’s out. I took a step away from the spotlight. To this day I struggle with whether or not I made the right decision, even though deep down I know I did. It was the responsible one and probably the only reason I’m still able to ride today with my injuries.
Fast forward several years, a husband and 2 children later my soul mate came along. (Yes I know, I’m married and should be saying this about my husband, but he understands. That’s why I married him.) Lady wasn’t the fancy Warmblood I’d dreamt about, but we connected so well. Lady was a retired carriage horse that ended up in the hands of the Amish. She needed me and I needed her and we both knew it. My husband and son didn’t have the horse itch at all. I tried. They like them, but it’s far from their passion. My daughter has the gift that was apparent at a younger age than mine. She’d ride double bareback with me on my Lady at 3 years old, galloping through the trails hanging on like a capuchin monkey. Nothing could stop us. The 3 of us had so much fun. When the kids would fight, we’d go riding and the boys would go fish or quad riding. It was our thing. All of us.
Olivia was 6 when the “now what” conversation came up. Lessons cost more than board and here I was..a has been almost trainer that still had the desire and ability and guts to take on a pony. That conversation led us to the greatest pony that I’ve ever met. Velvet fell in our lap from a great home that wanted to make sure she didn’t get passed around from child to child her entire life. She was young, sassy, talented and absolutely loved my little girl. They were both 6, and yes, I also thought I was crazy, but she was all I could ask for and more. She carried that dreamy little girl into the ring for nothing shy of a blue ribbon. Surprisingly that didn’t last long. Horse shows were boring to Olivia. She didn’t want to go anymore. At first I was disappointed, but I got over it. Her horsemanship was just different than mine. She loved to trail ride and jumped on any opportunity to ride for a cause; she’d come in on top with whatever fundraiser we rode for. She’d sit in her stall or under a tree and read her stories or tell her about her day, sometimes for hours. That pony just sat there and listened, as if she understood every single word.
Years past. Olivia and Velvet are both 14 now and we’re knee deep in teenage madness. She doesn’t ride as much as she used to, but she still goes to the farm to spend time with her pony a few days a week. In the warmer months we’re on the trails every chance we can get. Of course I have the thoughts that she’s not me. She’s not head over heels all in. There will be a day where her visits to the barn may not be as frequent, but that’s ok. Lady is getting older and starting enjoy more time in the pasture. I’ve taken on riding Velvet a few days a week. We’re having so much fun together and I look forward to my solo trips to the barn now rather than being disappointed Olivia isn’t with me.
As much as I had originally hoped my daughter would follow in my footsteps and acknowledge the incredible talent she inherited from me and live out the dream I never could, that’s not her dream and that’s ok! We’re still both girls raised with horses. Velvet will always be there waiting for her. She’ll still whiney at the sound of her voice and gallop to the fence like she’ll never do for anyone else. If she’s having a bad day she’ll know where she needs to go and she’ll always have someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on or wings to take her away from it all.
Many years from now I can only hope that she passes a random horse farm on her journey, takes in the air and it brings her back to the memories we’ve built and the life lessons she learned along the way. Although our paths and dreams lead in different directions, she will always have my hoof prints to follow back to the barn should she ever lose her way.
The Story Of Maverick 