Horses

I have been interested in horses from a very young age (from about 5 years old in fact) when my older sister's girlfriend used to turn up at our house on her horse. Rather than being frightened of them at that age, I developed a fascination in terms of how a person could control an animal so large. Most of the pictures I drew in those early years, nearly always included a horse, my play was centred around horses and even my childhood stories had a horse theme. I was hooked big time.

I remember one christmas when I was about 8 or 9 years old, I put "horse" on my Santa list. Was I looking forward to Christmas that year! Mind you, I had absolutely no idea what it meant to have a real horse or the time, effort and expense involved in owning one. I wasn't really even that well acquainted with the skills required in riding a horse. But I wasn't going to let that stand in my way - all I knew is that I wanted my own horse, no matter what and I was prepared to do anything to get one! Christmas day arrived and yes, Santa did bring me a horse - a realistic, large TOY horse with a saddle and bridle. I tried to hide my huge disappointment. I blamed myself for Santa's confusion, I had neglected to specify to Santa that I wanted a REAL horse and NOT a toy one! From that moment onwards, my parents realised that this was no passing fantasy of mine and that eventually, I would have to get a "real" horse. My parents must have been beside themselves when I showed such devotion to my cause as neither of them had been anywhere near a horse before.

I was 11 years old before I got a real horse of my own and it came about by accident. An opportunity arose to purchase at a bargain price, a piebald horse from the farm across the road where I lived. It turned out to be a learning experience in many ways. Incidentatlly, a 'piebald' is a horse with black and white patches - amazing how the black and white theme came through even back then before my interest in zebras developed. I hadn't really thought about that before.

'Pinto' was his name - totally unoriginal and is another name meaning 'painted horse' (i.e. a horse with patches of a colour), and I was not responsible for naming him! After the purchase, I discovered that although he had been broken in, he had been ridden bareback for such a long time and he did NOT appreciate having a saddle strapped to his back! Riding bareback is OK I convinced myself, I can cope with that. Then I had another problem, he had not worn shoes for such a long time either and could not be ridden on bitumen roads or very stony ground. Guess what surrounded my area other than the road I actually lived on! And finally, he was actually a very cheeky and somewhat naughty horse and required a lot of exercise to use up the excessive energy he had. What have I got myself into? My parents will think ALL horses are like this. I perservered for some months becoming more frustrated as time progressed because I could not ride him out on the roads as I was hoping to and there is only so much you can do with a horse on half an acre of land. The house and garden were on the other half and were out of bounds to such a large animal. The reality of the situation finally overcame my desire to have a horse and I realised I could not go on like this as Pinto turned out to be totally unsuitable for my needs. With a sigh of relief, my parents agreed that we had to sell him to someone with more experience who would give my horse the correct retraining and attention he needed.

Next problem. As I was not able to exercise him properly, I knew that any prospective buyer would want to see my horse in action with ME ON HIM and I was most concerned that Pinto would play up and put most people off. The first buyer arranged to come out on a Saturday afternoon. I had not ridden Pinto for at least two weeks by that stage. "Don't you dare let me down", I whispered to Pinto as I put his bridle on. I jumped on and he trotted and cantered around the paddock like a dream - he was almost unrecognisable. Not one foot wrong did he put, not one jumpy moment did he have, he was the perfect angel. "You little devil" I thought to myself, he was never like that for me normally. The buyers fell in love with him and would be back the following weekend to collect him. They turned up three days later because they could not wait to take him to his new home. I was sad to see him go but we were not right together and it was far better for him to be in a situation much more suited to him. The small compensation for my loss was a break from the onerous responsibilities of owning a horse.

Our new neighbour who was very much a "horsey" person and had been involved with horses from a young age, offered to teach me how to ride a horse correctly. It was a generous gesture and I took up her offer without a second thought. She had an old horse who was on the verge of being retired and he was well mannered and perfect for an inexperienced rider such as myself. My lessons commenced and I was in heaven. It did not take long for my desire for a "good" horse to begin in earnest. The first job was to convince my parents that all horses were not like Pinto. With the help of my next door neighbour, we finally talked my parents round and they agreed I could get another horse - a properly trained one this time. My neighbour offered to keep her eye out for a horse she felt was suitable for me but said it may take a few months due to her pregnancy. I was not bothered, I was so happy knowing that I would eventually get another horse and if it meant some patience was needed, I would be as patient as I had to be to achieve my dream.

I did not have to wait too long, about 3 or 4 weeks from memory - my neighbour phoned and told me she found a young horse she felt would be perfect for me. We arranged a time convenient for her to take me out to see him and meet the owner. I couldn't believe this was happening so soon. I had prepared myself to wait for MONTHS to get to this stage. I can't even remember if we went during the week or on a weekend to see this horse (I suspect it was a weekend). We turned up at a farm somewhere out in the middle of nowhere (in reality it probably wasn't that far away but to me it felt like it was). The owner was most welcoming and she led me to a three year old, light grey, part arab gelding with dark points. He had the most gorgeous large eyes and the longest eyelashes and she had named him 'Misty' because of his colouring. I liked him immediately and the feeling appeared to be mutual. The owner handled him from birth and had broken him in herself and he was used to some traffic and noise. That was fabulous news, I would be able to ride him on public roads without any problem. My neighbour was watching me bond with the horse from the moment I laid eyes on him and she knew this horse was the right choice as she predicted. The sale was finalised and I was very happy with Misty and Misty's owner was very happy with me becoming his new owner.

It was arranged that we would turn up a week later to collect him. Once again, my neighbour generously offered her time and her horse float to pick Misty up to save my father from doing it as he was not familiar with such a procedure. It was the longest week of my life and then the night before, I felt sick. I was SOOOO excited I was ill, physically ill! I felt like throwing up and I had a headache. Saturday morning arrived and I was a mess - there was no way I would cope being in a car going around all those bends and my poor neighbour ended up going with her husband and without me, to collect MY horse! Unbelievable! It is not every day you get something you have always wished for and never thought you would get.

By the time the car and the horse float arrived back at my house with Misty on board, I had settled down although I was now feeling emotional rather than sick. I could not thank my parents or my neighbour enough for all the time and trouble they had gone to in helping me achieve my dream. I felt like the luckiest teenager in the world.

Misty and I grew in experience together and we learnt an enormous amount. He was only three years old and could be a little flighty on occasion. This was partly due to unfamiliarity having lived on a farm and not being as accustomed to certain things. For example, he freaked out when a truck travelled on the road towards us even though we were on the opposite side. That one did take me quite some time to help him lose his fear over and only through jumping off him, turning his back towards the source of the noise so he could hear it, but not see it coming towards him. Then I would stand near his head and talk to him in a calm voice reassuring him that the truck would not hurt him in any way. He never overcame his fear completely but we did reach a compromise where I did not have to get off him and all I needed to do was to swing him around so he did not see the truck hurtling towards him and he would cope without even a shiver. His other great fear was rubbish bags - those big black heavy duty ones put out on the road for collection. I have no idea what Misty thought they were or whether he suspected they may jump out and bite him but he never failed to spot them. I could only get him so close and then he would shy away and jump sideways or any which way except in the direction of the bags. He did not like them ONE LITTLE BIT! I would either have to cross over to the other side of the road as far away from the bags to get him past that point, or get off him to lead him past the bags (he much preferred the first option)!