I met my first horse (a TB I think) in 1957 in Chile. He was sooo big, and sooo tall. This horse was kind, when my little finger got taken into his mouth with the treat, he pushed it out with his tongue before chewing.

My mania for horses gave me a sort of stability through all the moves of my father's Foreign Service career. I got to ride in the foothills of the Andes, this sort of spoiled me for normal trail riding. Then my family rode on the white sand beaches in Uruguay until my parents decided that it was not the same and stopped. I was devastated, and cried and cried, I just wanted to be around horses. At least I still got to see horses, cart horses would come by frequently, in the summer I could usually count on seeing 6 or 7 carts a day.

Then we moved back to the USA in 1963. From seeing lots of working horses every day, all I could see were a few pasture ornaments. A few fortunate girls at school had their own horses, but they did not share them with me. Surrounded by dense suburbs, all I could do was dream, and my dreams of horses were often all that made life bearable.

When I finally got my first horse at the age of 19, I had suffered many undiagnosed MS attacks. I was a clumsy and uncoordinated rider with balance problems. Hat Tricks, a 5 year old recently gelded Anglo-Arab with 3 weeks of training was pretty confused by me! My parents finally got me lessons and I started learning to ride. A few months later, due to rising tensions I left home, and a few weeks later came back to get my horse. This was pretty much the end of regular lessons for me until 5 years ago.

Since I had a horse I was "horse poor" and I could not afford a car. Catching rides to the stable whenever I could, or hitch-hiking out with my husband, I continued riding my horse. Having to walk everywhere, I finally got enough Vitamin D to stabilize my MS for a while. With this stabilization came greater security in the saddle. Because I was "horse poor" I could not afford the lessons I wanted or training for my horses, so I had to learn to do it all by myself. Hat Tricks started responding to me. I would try to take lessons wherever I boarded, but Hat Tricks would just tighten up and get lose his smooth gaits. Then I would stop taking lessons, go back to my books and try things. Forward Seat was what worked, and Vladimir Littaur's "Common Sense Horsemanship" guided my every move. Hat Tricks and I continued to improve.

When we finally got a car I started riding every day. Hat Tricks and I got along GREAT. I would go out into the fifty acre pasture without even a lead rope, go up to Hat Tricks, touch him, and he would follow me to the barn, opening and closing 2 gates, and stand to be groomed and tacked up. No halter, just a real nice cooperative horse. My riding started to improve. I got LOTS of sunlight, thus a lot more Vitamin D helping control my MS. As I became steadier Hat Tricks and I improved apace.

Without Hat Tricks and my other horses I would have been indoors a lot more, and my MS would have crippled me sooner.

In 1984 a drunk driver ran into my car head on. I had finally gotten some land and I was going out to feed my horses. This wreck floored me, my still undiagnose MS flared into a super attack. I went from being able to lift my kids up on my tallest horse to being totally exhausted, physically weak, and constantly deteriorating. Back pain ruined my rides. Nothing helped. Still I came out every day to feed, luckily my kids were big enough to help some. Gradually I got back to riding some, but nowhere near before, and as the years went on my endurance and strength disappeared. Finally I got to move out to my land to live with my horses and I rode some more, but my deterioration continued.

In 1993 I was finally diagnosed with MS, and my attack, that had lasted 9 years, was finally treated. Dragging myself once again back on my beloved first horse, I started riding yet again. I had no choice, I had a crippling disease and I had to keep moving. Things slowly improved, then I let the medical-pharmaceutical industry talk me into trying the first disease modifying drug for MS. I immediately worsened, and then I got the worse attack of my life. I could barely walk. I got an electric wheel chair and went back to my job for a few months before I got disabled out. Then I used my electric wheelchair to get from my house to my horses, feeding and watering them, and trying to keep their hooves trimmed. If I had not had my horses I think I would have retreated to my bed and lost my ability to walk. I would have been inside, not getting the Vitamin D that helps calm the MS, getting weaker and weaker as the months went by.

Well I was still walking but I was not riding, it was just too exhausting taking care of my horses. I stopped reading about riding. It hurt too much. Finally a woman running a riding program took pity upon me when I called about riding on my birthday, and waved her evaluation fee and cut her price. She put me on a wonderful OTTB mare Maggie. She offered to lead me, but Maggie gave me a great gift. By her third stride I KNEW that Maggie was listening to me, and that she found me, with all my imperfections, acceptable as a rider. Lynn let me go on riding for several months, and Maggie got better and better under me as I gradually improved. Maggie also improved for her other riders as the result of my work. Thank you Maggie, because of you I knew that I could still ride.

Then Lynn had to move, taking Maggie, and I gradually found other places to ride. My horses gradually died off from problems of old age. I decided that the riding was more important to my well being than the owning of horses, so I did not replace them. So now I work on other people's horses, using what I learned from training and retraining my horses to help reclaim other people's cast-offs.

Horses, by ensuring that I got out in the sunlight, help delay the physical deterioration of MS.
Horses, by giving me gentle exercise, help me to strengthen my weak body so I could go on walking.
Horses, by their need for calm leadership, taught me to control my emotions.
Horses, by their compassion, taught me how to be a compassionate person.
Horses, by their sudden moves under me, taught me how to stay upright during rocky conditions.
Horses, by their need for care, kept me walking when all I wanted to do was stay in bed forever.
Horses, by their gentle physical therapy helped me regain strength.
Horses, by challenging my orders, taught me how to coordinate my movements.
Horses, by making me walk, got me out of my electric wheel chair. I haven't used one for 4 years.
Horses, by their existence, gave me a reason to live.
Horses, by needing my help, gave me a purpose in life.
Horses are the only reason I am not in a nursing home.

Horses--you gave me my life.

Thank you.

Enjoy your ride.