Replies to This Discussion

Permalink Reply by Paige Cerulli on June 16, 2009 at 8:35pm

On May 14th, 2008 I was in a car accident in which I was hit by a drunk driver on the highway. No one knows how I survived, and I was left with a major head injury and long-lasting side effects, such as dizziness and migraines, not to mention a severe fear of driving. Five months after the accident, I got on a horse again for the first time. This horse was a mare named Whisper, an ex-racehorse who was normally spooky and not the ideal horse you'd want to be riding when even a minor fall could mean more injury. I ended up buying Whisper one year to the day of the accident, and she has been a wonderful support during my ongoing recovery. I wrote this poem after getting on her for the first time after the accident.


First Ride After The Accident

I tell myself that I won’t ride today –
I’ll just go down to visit for a while.
I bring my tack and helmet anyway.

She lifts her head to find me when I call
- this young grey mare – she’s being good for me.
Her halter on, I never have to pull

her head - she leaves the horses quietly.
She’s glad I’ve come – leans hard into the brush,
drops her head so I can easily

comb out her mane. With reassuring touch
I strap my well-worn saddle to her back,
then bridle her. I fiddle with the latch

on the barn door. Our shoulders brush. We walk
into the field. It’s been five months today
since I last rode. When I swing into the tack –

she never moves. I fight to find the way
I used to balance. She never even tries
to snatch the grass, content to simply stay

with me. Even when I let her trot
she doesn’t fuss or toss her head around,
just settles and continues down the trails.

I move into her motion, up and down,
let myself believe that I’m all right.
Ignore the six feet leading to the ground.

I’ve been at school for almost one whole week,
but I have yet to smile or laugh just once.
I can’t even stand the strong sunlight

that blinds me on the walks to and from class.
The doctors say that riding will not help,
but in time my symptoms should all pass.

I brush the grey mare gently with my leg,
think back on how uncertain life has been.
And with her neck and mane pressed to my chin,
I send us flying forward through the wind.

-by Paige Cerulli

Permalink Reply by Joanne Ladouceur on June 24, 2009 at 8:59pm

Dear Paige
You have truly found a friend who will always stand by you. No one understands the power
of determination to do something that makes you happy and helps you to cope with what you
are going through. Good Job. Never stop doing the things you love. Some times it requires you
do things differently but you can do anything you choose if you have the love in your heart to do it.
As a horse lover myself I understand that passion a horse gives you, not asking for nothing in return
but to be given shelter ,food and lots of love. Good job on your poem . Love it.

Joanne

Permalink Reply by Paige Cerulli on June 26, 2009 at 6:25pm

Thanks so much for your reply, Joanne! Since that poem was written, I've been riding Whisper multiple times a week. There have been definite adjustments made - I have yet to jump again, and won't for another 2 years until the risk of another head injury decreases, but until them I have plenty to work on, such as my balance and trusting Whisper to help me out if I get in a tight place.

I think in part it was the passion of being a horse lover that helped to get me up and going again - they're wonderful motivators, when you know they're waiting for you down at the barn! If anything, Whisper has shown her connection to me more and more since the accident - she truly was meant to be my horse.

Thanks again for your kind words!
-Paige

Permalink Reply by Painted Horse on June 17, 2009 at 12:16am

San Rafael Swell

My cell phone rang. It was Kirk a friend of mine who I occasional ride with in the summer. It was early November and I hadn’t talked with him since hunting season had started several months early. He asked, “You done hunting”. Yep, I replied. Kirk continued, we are heading down to the Swell for a ride tomorrow. We've got room in the trailer for one more if you want to come. When are you leaving I asked. Kirk replied “In about two hours”. When you coming home, I asked? Tomorrow night Kirk replied. So it’s just a day trip, I summarized. Where are you sleeping tonight? We will get room at a motel in Ferron, he said. I quickly ran through what things I had planned to do this afternoon and tomorrow and weighed in my mind whether they could wait. Kirk was famous for short notice trips and I had joined him many times before.
I decided winter wasn’t too far off and this may be one of the last rides I’d get before winter set in. So I said sure, I’m in. Want me to drive? Kirk replied, No, we can’t get the bigger gooseneck trailers into the trail head that we are going to use. There are a lot of washes that we just can’t get the longer trailers through. We have borrowed some smaller bumper pull trailers to haul the horses out into the desert. Just be at my place at 6:00 pm” he said.
I hustled home, quickly fed my horses and headed in to pack a duffel bag with a change of clothes. I had never ridden the swell, I had no idea of what to expect. Do I need a coat, Should I bring chaps or chinks? I hooked up my trailer to haul my horse over to Kirks place. As I pulled up along my horse paddock, my four horses all ran to the gate. I looked them over trying to decide which one to take. I chose Ramblin Spirit, a tall 3 year old Missouri Foxtrotter colt I had started during the summer. I had not ridden him for 5-6 weeks because I had been hunting. I thought we are leaving late this evening and coming home tomorrow evening. It can’t be too long of a ride. This colt still needed some work; one more trail ride this fall should do him some good. I loaded him the trailer and headed for Kirks.

As I arrived Kirk was catching his horses and starting to load them. I unloaded my colt and loaded him in Kirk’s trailer and we were off. I asked who else was going. He said Eric has a load of horses and so does Mark, They left a couple of hours ago, and we’ll meet them at the motel.
It was a three hour drive to the small town of Ferron. We arrived well after dark. Found the motel and got a room. There is a city fairground nearby and we stalled the horses for the night and came back to our rooms and hit the sack.

At first light we were up and going. Grabbed some donuts and chocolate milk from the C-store out front and headed out to the San Rafael Swell. It was a rough dirt road going in the way we went. Eric our leader for this trip kept calling somebody on his cell phone and getting direction on how to reach the trail head. Finally we stopped and he said “Saddle Up” I looked around and asked, “Where are we ridding” We were in a pretty bare spot with what I thought looked like very little of any interest to ride through.

We tacked up and the twelve of us headed out. We immediately dropped down off the plateau top we were on. We followed a whisper of a trail down a knife edge. We crossed a little flat and come to a small stream in a large wash. You could see that during thunderstorm season, this wash really flooded. But right now the water was only an inch deep and 5-6 feet wide. We picked a spot that had a lot of small gravel showing and crossed. I was the 4th horse across the water; I felt my colt working a little hard, like he didn’t have solid footing. Then I heard the next rider behind me cry out. As I turned to look, I saw his horse’s front end buried in the stream and the rider flipping over his horses head. He landed flat on his back in the water still holding his reins. His horse thrashed a couple of time and came out. The sandy gravel bottom of the wash had jellied up from the weight and motion of the first horses to cross. When his horse stepped in, his front legs dropped, sinking in the stream bottom till his chest hit and burying its head and neck. With his hind legs still on solid footing the horse’s front end had dropped into the mud, and launched its rider over the horses’ head. It’s pretty strange to see a horse with his front end and head all muddy and his back end dry and clean.

While the rider checked out his horse and cleaned the mud out of its eyes, nose and ears, the rest of us watered our horses. After all we were in the desert and most of us didn’t know when we would see any water again. Eric was the only rider who had been here before and had any idea of where we going.
We followed the wash downstream crossing it several times as it meandered. We had one more horse go down in a bog. It lunged free. I was beginning to wonder what I had gotten into. We were only a half mile from the truck & trailers and already had two horses go down in bogs.
We started to climb back up onto a higher shelf. Leaving the wash behind, We had high bluffs all around us as we rode along. We were following cow & deer trails. There would be a strong identifiable trail that would soon vanish. We just picked our way along finding the best routes down and across the many draws and dry washes.

 
We soon entered into McCarty canyon. It had a wide flat sandy bottom. Lots of grass had grown there during the past summer and the horses grabbed at bunches of the sun dried grass. The sides of the canyon were all rock, only a few cedars were growing out of cracks in the rock. The canyon walls were very steep. McCarty was a hide out for the Wild Bunch in the late 1800’s. I could see why. It was remote, had feed and water for the livestock and lots of places to hide. We urged our horses into a canter and enjoyed the soft footing.

 
About half way up the canyon we turned up a small side canyon. Eric announced this was the only way to climb up and out of the canyon and the canyon walls just kept getting steeper and higher the farther up the canyon you went. This side canyon had a solid rock floor. Occasionally there were depressions in the rock floor that held water from past rainstorms and flash floods...

 
We stopped and let the horses drink in these bathtubs of water. It was bright day. There was hardly a cloud in the sky. Temperatures were in the low 70’s. It was just a wonderful day for a ride.


 
The side canyon continued to climb up, it got narrower and the walls got higher. We started to see ledges in the floor of the canyon. These were often 3 feet high. The first one we came to, I was wondering how my young colt would handle it. Two horses in front of me scrambled up and over it, my colt approached it and calmly stepped up and over. I guess there is some good to riding a 16h horse with long legs.

 
We came to a portion of the canyon where the cliff type side walls of the canyon opened up a bit. They were still steep, but not the cliffs we had been riding along. We scrambled up the side hills and came out on shelf. We continued along this rocky shelf.


 
The shelf brought us up on top of the mesa. We followed the game trails across the mesa top. We were looking into the head of McCarty canyon. It was a box canyon at this point and if we had stayed in the main part of McCarty canyon, we would have been trapped in the box end of the canyon.

 
We eventually reached a view spot looking out over Saddle Horse Canyon. The canyon walls dropped off very steeply here for several hundreds of feet. The view was stunning. It was lunch time, so we tied the horses to cedar trees and ate our lunches as we enjoyed the view.


 
To continue on we had to cross a narrow neck of land that formed a bridge between to mesa tops. This narrow neck of land was about 25 feet wide and sloped off very steeply on both side. As we left the top of the first mesa and started across the neck, we had to descend several large steps. They were 3-4 foot drops. I was building confidence in my young colt and was eager to see how he would handle them. He did just great. As I sat on the other side and watch the rest of our party cross, many off their horses and on foot. I wondered about the wisdom of staying on top of a colt during such a crossing. One stumble and we both could have been launched off the cliffs.


 
As we got on top of the second mesa we searched around looking for a trail to continue to follow. We finally picked up a cow trail that appeared to be heading down hill into Mesquite Canyon. The trail crossed a lot slick rock and ledges where it would disappear and we would find it on the far side. We figured the cows that grazed this range land had to head downhill to get water every day and the trail would lead us back to the wash. Along the trail we found a skeleton of a Bighorn sheep.

 
We had to descend down some rock ledges. Again I was proud of my colt. He was very sure footed and picked a good path down and remained calm. As a group, we were mostly riding fox trotters. But in this type of terrain, we couldn’t ask for any kind of gait. You just walk along letting your horse pick his footing.

We reached the floor of the canyon and followed it down until it dumped in to the main wash. We followed the wash to point where we had dropped into it, and climbed back up the knife edge to our waiting trucks and trailers.

The ride had taken us about 8 hours. My GPS said we had traveled 22 miles. This was way more than I had planned on for my colt. But he had done well. I could tell he was tired. But he kept up with the other horses and went where I pointed him. He crossed obstacles that I know some of my older geldings would have balked at.
Since that ride, I’ve made numerous trips into the area. There are many county maintained gravel roads in the area. That easily accommodate larger trailers. But there are several roads I wish I had never taken my trailer down. This is a desert area that often has thunderstorms that send water surging down dry washes. What may be a great road today, can be a muddy wash tomorrow with nowhere to turn around. I suggest that you park some place close to the pavement, drop your trailer and explore the roads that you think you want to haul your trailer down before you actually pull your horse trailer down those roads. There are lots of old jeep roads that the BLM has designated as ATV trails. They are marked with trail signs with numbers that correspond to the ATV trail map that the BLM hands out.

If you are unfamiliar with the area, I suggest you ride and explore along the marked ATV trails or join an organized trail ride. The ATV trails are easy to follow. I rarely saw more than a group or two of ATV riders on any given day during the spring and fall rides that I’ve done. Most of the ATV trails have abundant room to get off the trail and allow the atv’s to pass. If you explore off the marked trails, beware this is canyon country and it’s easy to get ledged up by cliffs where it’s difficult to go any farther. Pay attention to where you are going, if the area you are riding in becomes too narrow and too close to a cliff, turn around before you endanger yourself. There are lots of large open flats where the Wild Mustangs, Donkeys and Antelope hang out. These can offer great places to ride away from any roads or trails. There are many abandoned mines in the area. Be careful around the old mines. Boards with old nails, old pieces of mining junk often litter the area around the old mines. It could ruin you day to have your horse step on something sharp. Don’t enter the mines. The mine shafts often contain dangerous gases like Radon. But it’s fun to see how previous generations eeked out a living in a rough and hostile country.

Permalink Reply by Cheyenne Billy on June 17, 2009 at 2:23am

my horse casper, is the bestest horse i will probley ever meet in my lifetime. he is sooooo smart and is always there for me. he will try his heart out and keep goig till the end. he protects me even from the sillyest of things. he never gives up and will try all day long. his percistence is magic. every time a look at him my heart fills with joy. as he will nay at me and all my trobles vanish. we have a fantastic bond it seems unbreakable. i am the only person who can really get this horse going or even get him to coparate on the ground. somtimes he will be in such a fowl mode it makes you wanna cry he puts his ears back and stops his feet and it is sooo hard for me to try. and then as i walk away. he nickers to me and trots over. then his fowl mood vanishes and it is just me and him again. we have so much more to do and so much more to see but i know with casper by my side we will get far. so keep watching the olimpics. you might just see us there.

Permalink Reply by Tami Newman on June 17, 2009 at 1:13pm

Ode to Horse
You absorb my money, you own my time
You push your way into my mind
You have a look, you have a scent
You must have been heaven sent

tlmkn

Permalink Reply by Christianna Capra on June 17, 2009 at 1:43pm

My story with Spring Thaw

My name is Christianna Capra – I grew up in Colorado and Seattle but now live in NYC (since 1984), and have been horse crazed since I was 2 yrs old. Many girls are but it usually wears off at one point – it never did with me. My family couldn’t afford a horse so when I was young I made friends with people who had horses and became a helpful barn rat just to be around them and earn an occasional ride. I was always just as happy to groom, care for and be with them as I was to ride them though. When I was 11 years old, I got a paper route, cleaned a doctor’s office and worked at the barn to have my very own, very first horse. This was in Seattle and life was perfect!!!

Then at age 16 I moved to NYC, kickin’ and screamin’ with my mom and stepdad.
This started a 10 year hiatus from horses, as I knew I personally could not just do a “little bit” of horsey, it was all or nothing with someone like myself, so I finished high school and college – without them.

One night I was walking around Manhattan by myself – and went looking for “that hack barn” on the upper west side known as Claremont Riding Academy. I thought it would be cool to just check it out and maybe I could find a way to be around horses again. My soul was crying out for them and had been for some time now. When I got there, they were closed but there was a sign in the window saying “help wanted – part time grooms”. Hey, this is a way for me to be around them again and even get paid for it…I thought. I got the job and was working by the following weekend (for I think $4.00 per hour), and as a perk you got to ride on Monday’s. I rode just about every horse in the barn as time went on and one day I met / rode Spring Thaw – a 16.1HH Appaloosa / TB cross who had one blue eye, loud red coloring and quite a personality. I was warned to NOT canter him in the park, and that if he did canter to beware of the “dropping the shoulder and 180 spin move” he had been perfecting to remove his rider (so he could graze and then traverse 4 blocks of NYC traffic by himself back to the barn). Indeed, Spring did try to canter and “remove” me as the rider, but I did not fall off – and from there we seemed to form a quirky friendship or understanding. He soon became my favorite horse to ride – because we would go off the bridle trails and “explore” Central Park. Spring had only been at Claremont for a short time of about 6 months when I met him - he was young, ornery, and just enough mischievous – but also had been abused in his past (he was head shy and would become frightened of certain movements indicating he had been beaten or mistreated in that manner). When I look back now there were signs then that he was reaching out to me – he used to lick my arms when I was in his stall and then he would block the door to leave (it was a 6x8 ft stall) – but didn’t do this behavior with anyone else. And I could feel a “presence” in me whenever I was around him, that is there to this day.

One day I arrived at the barn and heard the owner yelling about liability and to get rid of that horse…I asked who he was talking about and it was my Spring. He had once again – left a rider in the park somewhere, grazed on the public lawns and then returned to the barn (covering 4 blocks of busy traffic alone) only this time he caught the attention of a radio news reporter who shared the story with the rest of NYC – which then prompted his walking papers from Claremont. I asked what would happen to him, where would he go? They said that he would be shipped to a horse dealer on Long Island – where he came from and then it depends on who bought him from there…a family, another barn or worse – a meat dealer…

I ran home, panicked, knowing that somehow I had to find a way to save Spring…my boyfriend Michael said to me – “why don’t you get him, you seem to like him a lot…” I thought that is crazy, I know what it takes to have a horse, a lot of responsibility, a commitment to care for them, and I live in NYC, etc. Yet, Michael must have known somehow that this was meant to be because within 2 days we had worked out a payment plan with the owner of Claremont and within 6 months he was paid for and we were hunting for a place in NY State or New Jersey that had a field and grass so that he could live like a horse. I wasn’t totally sure what exactly I was doing getting a horse at this point in my life, but a little voice inside kept saying that it would end up okay and that this was the thing to do.

Claremont is now closed. In many ways that is a good thing, it was a wretched place for a horse to live, while better than being slaughtered – horses lived in dark stalls (some of them straight stalls – where they could never lie down), had to walk up and down ramps from the basement or the upstairs (which was a complete fire trap – if there were a fire there was NO escape for any of the horses), and they never got to be horses in a field, to play or eat grass – with the exception of Spring grazing himself in Central Park. Once I saved the money to pay for him, I found a place in New Jersey to bring him to live. The day he was set free in that field brought tears to my eyes as he ran around and around with his head high and tail up screaming out loud, as if to say “thank you, I’m free”.

Over the next 10 years we have become the best of friends, we competed in lower level Eventing for 4 years and did pretty well, but mostly he became my friend and teacher. I learned patience, confidence, trust, spontaneity, perseverance, true unconditional love, and that there is nothing that beats a sense of humor…
Spring has helped me through some of the toughest times and decisions in my life, and if I were back there to make the decision again – I would do it 10 more times…

In late 2006, Spring became very ill due to Lyme disease. At that point I retired him from riding and competing, which was a little sad for me because I love the view of the world from his back, but we had to try and get well. We ran through 3 courses of drug treatment including a 21 day IV treatment which taxed his kidneys so we had to stop. We kept trying varied drug dosages for over a year and each time the lyme roared back and even worse than it was before. I began to despair and really couldn’t stand the thought of losing my best friend. Then I met a vet, Dr. Judith Shoemaker, who is internationally known for her incredible successes and includes alternative methods and holistic therapies in her practice – she had seen this scenario before and said that he was drug resistant. So we put him on a regimen of herbs, acupuncture, and oxygen therapies to kill the lyme disease – and frankly, at this point I had nothing more to lose.

Today I am very relieved and happy to say that as of 2009, Spring is well and back to his mischievous self, he is estimated to be 22 years old and he spends all day playing with the two 5 year olds in the field where he lives. His energy is back and with that his attitude also. He knows he is loved and cherished. And I ride him now, mostly bareback in the woods and trails for fun…and if he wants to canter I let him and soak it up as a gift. We have a second chance and we are loving it.

There is another twist that came with his recovery – Dr. Shoemaker also gave me a lead to check out. I have always wanted to create a career with horses somehow, but knew I would not be a professional trainer or rider, or a vet, etc. After meeting, diagnosing and spending a few hours with Spring, Dr. Shoemaker came up to me and said “eagala.org – check it out because this horse would be a brilliant EAP therapy horse”. I did look up the site and that night “found myself” – this is it – this is what I want to do with the rest of my life! Because of Spring Thaw and him getting so very sick, I found EAGALA and became a certified equine specialist as part of the treatment team for EAP (equine assisted psychotherapy). EAP is a form of emotional balance treatment where there are 3 treatment team members to help people with emotional problems, imbalances and healing. There is a mental health professional (who also becomes EAGALA certified), an equine specialist (horse person), and the horse(s). EAP can successfully treat – addiction problems, eating disorders, behavioral and performance problems, family and couples therapy, and so much more. I know that Spring and I will be incredibly good at this work, we are a great team. So who knows how many people we will have the chance to touch and heal before we are done?

So on this journey, I have found my spirit guide in Spring Thaw, and through him I have found my life’s work – or my passionate purpose as some say. Spring has an uncanny gift for this work and many times I get the feeling that after 12 years together we are only just beginning…

Now I see that he had to get sick in order for us to change gears and for me to find EAGALA and my path for the rest of my life, this is my way of being in service to others and how lucky that I would get to do that with horses and also how lucky am I to have my truest and best friend as my partner and master teacher to help me make that leap. This spring we are launching our EAGALA model program called SPRING REINS OF HOPE (Getting to the Horse of the Matter) out of Stewartsville, NJ. Its very exciting to be on this journey...

I am so very grateful for the day that I wandered into Claremont and met Spring Thaw, and wouldn’t trade a day, even a moment of our time together for anything in the world.
Thank you Spring – and I love you! You are the one true thing I can believe in.

Christianna Capra
Executive Director
Co-Founder
SPRING REINS OF HOPE

i have pics but they are too big of files to attach here...

Permalink Reply by Christianna Capra on June 24, 2009 at 4:59pm

this is beautiful - thank you!

Permalink Reply by Racheal on June 18, 2009 at 4:37am

This picture is me and my horse Sky cantering at liberty.
We have come so far in the last couple of years.
She used to be a horse that i was scared to ride and she was scared of being ridden. Everything she saw with me was a "Spook" and no matter what i did i couldn't control her. I was never mean or overly harsh to her because i love her so i just went along with the ride, untill one day, i fell of when she spooked and it really knocked our confidence. So i searched around on the internet and found a lovley way of horses called "Natural Horsemanship" so i gave it a go and we haven't looked back since.
I can now control her with my seat, we don't even need reins or a headstall or any other device on her body, because our bond is so strong i can move her way over the other end of the paddock or reel her in from the other end of the paddock by just moving my eyebrow.
I can even move her around in a 360 degree circle with just a feather, which i think is pretty special considering she is a 1000 pound, stong willed animal!
So this photo is of us cantering bareback and bridle/halterless, which i think took ALOT of trust, respect, PARTNERSHIP and COURAGE!

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• IMG_0854.JPG, 943 KB

Permalink Reply by 4XChestnut on June 18, 2009 at 11:03am

The Carnivorous Mouse Incident
Or
The Definition of Courage


Every horseman or women knows that horses are flight animals. We all know they can overcome that flight instinct to a remarkable degree given a supportive environment and practice. I have always taken my horses hacking at night and after the initial adjustment period each fall, they were quite comfortable going out in the dim light at night. Some nights I literally could not see my horse’s ears, but I could see the trees silhouetted against the sky and I knew the trails we walked well enough to know where we were. I trusted my horses to see better than I could and enjoyed our night hacks immensely.

One windy night early in November 2004 I took my chestnut QH Tommy out for a hack. It was getting cool but was surprisingly warm for November. We headed out across the road into the fields on the other side as usual. I couldn’t see Tommy’s ears, but there was enough light to see the fence lines and landmarks I used to guide us. He was calm and walking forward on a long rein. I was relaxing and feeling my worries drop away, drinking in the comfort of my friend’s presence.

In a split second that peace was shattered and Tommy’s world caved in. A small animal rustled the grass ahead of us at the edge of the field and Tommy spooked, swapped ends and bolted back towards the barn. I told everyone later that it was a carnivorous mouse, with equine preferences. I came off and landed on my hip and felt the reins slip out of my hand as if I wasn’t even trying to hang on to them, and Tommy was gone, the thunder of his hooves fading into the darkness. Heart in my throat and heedless of any injury to myself, I leaped to my feet and started walking quickly after him calling in a soothing voice. I wanted to run, but feared that if he had stopped or slowed I would scare him into further flight before I realized he was there. I fixed my gaze on the lights by the barn hoping to see him run through that patch of light, mentally calculating where he would be given his speed, and hoping desperately that no vehicle would barrel along the road at the wrong moment.

Sure enough, just about the time I figured he would be reaching the road a car came over the hill. It braked suddenly, and though I strained to see, I didn’t catch a glimpse of Tommy. I was afraid the car would have frightened him away from the barn, and running blind he could have ended up anywhere. My mind raced and I listened intently for the sound of bare hooves on the road.

The driver turned out to be one of the lesson student’s parents and he told one of the other boarders in the barn that the horse had gone “that way”, pointing down the road. When I heard that, my heart sank to my boots. The highway was “that way” and Tommy had gotten himself lost once before after spooking and dropping his rider (in daylight that time) and running fear blinded. Within minutes we had three vehicles and several people out combing the area. Tommy was wearing his splint boots with the reflective strips on them and would have been easily spotted if he were on the road.

After what felt like a hundred years of looking and calling while fighting an increasing panic level, one of the drivers came to find me. Tommy had been found in his field. He hadn’t bolted down the road, but had gone through an open gate into the field next to his own and jumped the fence to get back to the pasture herd. By some miracle he had sustained nothing more than some lost skin and a couple of tiny nicks. One boot had a hole almost completely through the neoprene, but none of his other tack was so much as scratched. His worst physical injury was the loss of a patch skin over his right stifle the size of my spread hand.

Mentally was a completely different story.

The running joke with Tommy is that he’s one quarter horse, three quarters chicken. His brain is hardwired for flight and he has managed to overcome it to an incredible degree in the time we have been together. After escaping the carnivorous mouse that had rustled the grass, he was starting back from square one again. For the next two days simply taking him into the wash stall to tend his injuries was enough to send his heart racing at least double time, his pulse clearly visible through the winter hair at the base of his neck.

The first time I took him out of the barn for a ride two weeks later, that pulse pounding was clearly visible from six feet away, and his body shook with the effort of not bolting as he tried to look in every direction at once. His fear was thick enough to taste, but he went where I asked, when I asked, and tried very hard not to spook. By early January I was beginning to wonder if he would ever recover. Riding him was like sitting on a ticking time bomb and being unable to see the clock counting down. I seriously considered leaving him in the field until spring.

But he was making progress, no matter how painfully slowly. We started in one fenced in field in daylight and gradually pushed out, walking the far side of the fence, then halfway into the next field, and finally all the way around it. He had good and bad days, and some days were so cold it was all I could do to take him out for fifteen minutes.

On February 17th we managed to walk twice round the mare’s field at night under a waxing moon – our first night hack since the incident. In April I was thrilled when he walked quietly and calmly on a long rein for SIX steps on a daytime solo hack! In June his triumph was a trot on a long rein on a solo hack, and my heart sang all the way back to the barn. He still had his bad days, days where he couldn’t help spooking at things I couldn’t see. But he was spooking in place, stopping his flight within the first six inches, and those bad days were becoming fewer. It took about nine months before I could say he was back to normal; it took about seven of those for me to realize what he was teaching me.

If courage is being afraid, knowing the dangers and then going ahead and doing it anyway then Tommy is Courage incarnate. He knows the world is a dangerous place. He’s been hurt by nothing more than a rustle in the grass. He is afraid. But he goes ahead and does what I ask, goes where I point him, and tries his best not to be ruled by his fear. His bravery, his courage and trust inspired me to face my own fears. If, after all that has happened to him, Tommy can go out and try anyway, I can do nothing less.

Horse, thy name is Courage.

Permalink Reply by Cheryl Poitras on June 18, 2009 at 11:15am

To My Equine Partner.

Six years ago you came in to my life quite unexpectedly. Over a dinner with dear friends and family I mentioned that the next time I was going to enter the show ring it would be with a partner of my own. I would show where, when and what classes I wanted. My statement hid the fear I had of riding again. My summer had been tough and my confidence shaken more than I ever cared to admit.

Someone in the room that night mentioned they knew of a loving horse, a good boy looking for someone just like me. You could even come to me as a free lease. Well not wanting to admit I really wasn't sure I ever meant to ride again at that point I said "sure where is he and when can I see him."

We went to the barn that day, I was still skeptical, and honestly it was game over once I looked in to those beautiful, kind and gentle eyes. You picked me and stole my heart straight away. You nuzzled your velvet muzzle in my bangs almost as if you were asking me to take you with me. Your owner didn't have time for you and some how you knew by instinct that you were just what I needed and maybe you knew then too I was what you needed too. I had a test ride, you knocked me in to the dirt, and yet somehow even then you still had me. Two weeks later I brought you home and you have been with me heart and soul ever since.

It has been a long journey to get to where we are today. I have came off you that first summer and was banged up pretty good. Time passed and I questioned if I had made the right choice. As I looked in to your eyes the spring of 2007 I knew in my heart I could not fail you like this, you deserved better. I never stopped caring but was so unsure and afraid. I don't know how but you made me believe in myself that I could do this. An honest horse, a loving rider and a kind a patient coach, our journey began again.

We returned to the show ring that summer. Back in the show ring, my fears now fading to the past. You are more than just my equine partner, you are my equine soul mate. A valuable and cherished part of my heart my family and my life. I see in your eyes the will to do anything and the understanding that sometimes I do still get a bit scared and so do you. Your look tells my heart that "it will be okay mom, don't worry, I will carry you thru anything just stay with me and trust me" and I do.

It is hard to convey to anyone that total and complete unconditional love that comes from something that is just simply meant to be. Together we have learned and grown. We have come so far past the scared adult rider that I was six years ago. I can trust again and as always love you for what you mean to my life.

At fourteen now, I see the beginning signs of gray hair creeping in to your coat. Yet you still give all you have to be there for me and I for you. I wish in a way you could understand all that my words could convey. I have learned things of your past before me and they have made me cry on your neck. Saying nothing I truly think you understand how it breaks my heart. You deserved better. It took some time but you have given me your heart, your trust and most of all your love. Together we have healed the damage from the past and have developed a bond unbreakable. I owe to you more than you will ever know my equine soul mate.

Harmony, trust, and most of all unconditional love......such is the bond of horse and rider. Companion and friend. Such is the bond between you and I. My companion, my partner, my horse.

PS. For those wishing to see, attached is a photo from our very first show in 2007. Time, patience and love does heal old wounds. Together we are free.

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Permalink Reply by Anni on June 18, 2009 at 2:38pm

My Mustang mare Lily and I -
Lily did not come into my life at the "right" time. I was a first-year college student struggling to pay my bills and keep up with riding lessons for the first time in years after my parents had forced me away from horses as a teenager. An online friend was asking opinions on BLM Mustangs up for adoption, and I stumbled across the online page for a tiny grey mare with the kindest eyes I had ever seen. I could not stop thinking about this mare who had been captured a year ago and still had not found a home.
In a turn of events I cannot believe, my friend adopted the mare and put three months of training into her. I visited Lily and fell in love with her even more. I named her "A Little Faith" - Lily for short - because she had been one of those gambles that rarely works out. In my case, it did. Today she is home and the best partner I could ask for. She is kind, loving, and spirited. She challenges me and is always waiting at the fence when I come out to her pasture.
Lily and I:

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