falling in love with my horse

When I decided that the time had come to get a horse of my own, I had a whole list of criteria that said horse needed to meet.  I didn't care about color or sex, but I knew that I wanted something big.  Like, 16.3 or taller.  I wanted an OTTB, because I love them and they tend to be budget-friendly, preferably something with a year or more off the track and with some talent for jumping. I wanted a puppy dog personality and a solid brain.  

I actually did find a horse that met all of those qualifications.  His name was Bing, but I was going to call him Corr.  He was gorgeous, just under 17 hands and built like a warmblood.  He had raced for six years and then jumped big things for three. I went to try him out twice, fell head over heels in love, and brought him home for a trial.  I was POSITIVE that he was The One.  I was ready to buy him the day that he got there, but because he had a vague history of injury and a sketchy string of past owners (not the lady who was selling him, but the ones from before), I did the Right Thing and got a PPE.

It was heartbreaking.  My beautiful sweet lovely trial horse that we all thought was just out of shape and tenderfooted because of shoeing issues was diagnosed as Grade 3 Lame.  He had tenderness in his tendons, tenderness in his soles, tenderness in his back, and flexion issues indicative of arthritis in both hocks and both stifles. He needed extremely expensive injections and then months of rehab to bring him back into work slowly and avoid re-injury.  Even after that, the vet (who I love very dearly and who is one of the most wonderful humans that I have ever met) wasn't sure how long he would stay sound, or how often the injections would be needed.  And I know perfectly well that jumping higher would only shorten his usable life.  

I cried during the exam.  I cried on the phone with my trainer.  I cried in my car while the vet talked to my trainer.  I cried at work.  I talked to his owner. I talked to my friends and my trainer and my boyfriend and my parents. I tried to rationalize it.  I thought about switching to a dressage focus and giving up jumping.  I tried to come up with a budget where I could afford this horse and his board and the supplements and injections he would need.  I realized that at this point in my life it simply would not be possible.  I arranged for a trailer.  I said goodbye.  And I sent him back home.  I hope with all of my heart that he will find a new life as a trail horse or a dressage horse or a pasture pet someday.

After that, I kept looking, but it was halfhearted.  When my trainer found Leo (then Splash) on Facebook I agreed to go try him out because she was so excited about him, but I wasn't really thrilled about it. For one thing, I didn't want to get my hopes crushed again.  For another, he is little, he's a saddlebred, and he has been a trail horse and a saddleseat horse but never any sort of hunter/jumper horse.  I almost didn't go at all, but finally talked myself into it because if nothing else it's good to try out every horse you can.  So I drove 3.5 hours south, drove past the turn to the farm where the first horse lived, to the middle of nowhere, to try out a horse I had no intention of buying. 

He was about twenty times cuter than I expected him to be, four times narrower, and 3 inches taller.  He was curious and sweet, and his owner was amazing.  He had good conformation and good feet and good ground manners, and was fun to flat.  He had no idea what to do with himself when we hastily constructed an jump. 

literally no idea.

We made different jumps that weren't barrels and his owner got back on him and attempted to coax him over it.  Apparently on the trails he's quite the little jumper, but in the arena he was Out of His Element.  I got back on and to everyone's surprise he started jumping the things.  And continuing to jump them.  And I started to feel...something.  Hope, maybe? That this little saddlebred might have the potential to be The One.  I got off, and told her that I couldn't pay what she was asking, I had a limited amount of funds and it totaled to $300 less than her listed price.  I told her that I didn't own a trailer and I wasn't sure I could find anyone to haul him as I had just used up all my favors and extra saved up money hauling the trial horse back and forth and doing a vet check. And to my immense surprise she offered him to me at the amount I had in the bank plus $100 for gas and they would haul him to me. I called my trainer and sent pictures and paced around and talked to the owner more and ended up leaving behind a deposit and driving home the new almost-owner of my very first horse.

I liked him.  I liked him a lot.  But I didn't love him.  I didn't gush about him like crazy, as I had with the trial horse.  I was excited, but I wasn't head over heels about it.  I spent days exchanging texts with friends trying to pick out a name - my trainer and barn buddy E and assistant trainer A all pushed for Steve, for reasons that are still unknown.  I settled on Leo by the time that he arrived.  He was nervous and antsy and pacing and mildly crazy, and absolutely adorable.  Our first week of rides were jumpy but not terrible, and as he settled I started to like him more.  We had a great first lesson. I liked him more and more each ride. Then around week 3, the Issues began - the sideways darting, the rearing, the refusal to walk...massive amounts of frustration and feeling like we were going backwards and that it was probably all my fault and I had made a mistake because who am I to try to retrain a saddlebred and why does he hate life and is it wrong to try and make him be a jumper?  We worked through it, but I stopped riding him outside of lessons - with the rearing, it didn't feel particularly safe to ride on my own, and I didn't want to make things worse.  

We started lunging, which he didn't quite remember how to do as it hadn't been required of him in 8 years.  He would still go sideways and rear and try to get out of work.  Using a bridle was too much contact and he'd get high-headed and anxious.  I started with a flat halter.  Then a bridle.  Then a surcingle.  Then back to just the bridle.  Then the surcingle again.  He couldn't canter a full circle without tripping.  But each day there was less sideways action, and each day his head got a little lower.

I went on vacation and had a friend ride him in a lesson while I was gone - they worked through the issues and had a good ride, from what I understand.  I ordered a trial bit from Dressage Exchange - a Sprenger Novocontact - that arrived at my house the same day I returned.  On Monday we had our best lesson so far - no running sideways, no rearing, and he even started to set his head and work into a frame.  Yesterday we lunged with just the bridle.  Today we lunged with all of the things, and it was almost magical - perfect manners and perfect canter circles, almost instant responses to every command and paying attention to me the entire time.  It was so great that I decided after about 15 minutes to hop on and ride.  And I. Loved. It.  I loved my horse. I was so proud, so happy. He wasn't perfect by any means, but he was good. And I realized that what the wonderfully wise A had been telling me all along was true - the Right Horse isn't necessarily going to be the one that you love right off the bat or the one that ticks every box on the list you made for yourself.  The horse that you fall in love with is going to be the one you take the time to get to know, and work with, and work out the problems that inevitably crop up.  

It's okay to not instantly LOVE your new horse, as long as you like said horse and are willing to give it a go.  True love comes with time.  And although I know that one great magical day isn't in any way a guarantee of days to come, I do know that I am falling in love with my horse.  And I know that with every passing day, even the infuriatingly frustrating ones, that love will only continue to grow.