Seeing Spots

When I decided it was time to buy a horse of my own, it was more of a reaction to what was going on in the rest of my life than a feeling of "Oh boy! Time for the horse!" I was doing a lot of driving back and forth to family in another state, due to various health concerns and needs. It had me feeling like I had one life in one place and another in the other. More and more I was being pulled toward moving to where I felt I was needed.

This feeling didn't come with the calm assuredness that it was the right thing for me. It came as a sort of "Oh, crap. I should probably do this." I felt trapped. I felt selfish.

Then, I realized, that a little bit (maybe a lot) of selfishness was exactly what I needed. I knew, and had to start to feel, that I could be of very little use to anyone else if I sacrificed myself. Martyrs never last long. They give up their lives and become saints but there is no happy ending. For me, I knew I was in a marathon, not a sprint. I did not choose martyrdom.

So....what would anchor me to my own life? What could I do for myself that spelled COMMITMENT in a big way? What did I need that would be for me, in all my selfish glory?

Enter: the horse.

Oh, so many decisions. Heart-pounding, nerve-wracking, cost-inducing decisions.

I'd done my research, as much as one can do without actually doing anything. I am a procrastinator. I look far ahead, trying to anticipate all possible outcomes and problems. I do not leap before I look -- a lot.

I discovered that, at least around here, it is much easier to find a horse than to find a place to put it. I was a city girl, so keeping it at home was not an option. I knew that driving more than a half hour meant I wouldn't go very much. First-time horse owners are often not still horse owners at the end of their first year. I knew I'd need help and lots of it, because I didn't want to be one of them. Massive destruction of farm land and pastures meant that boarding stables were getting farther and farther away. Time for a road trip!

With a friend along for the ride and to keep up my courage, we started driving around in known horse places outside the city. I was told -- after I gave my speech that I wanted to be a first-time owner and was looking for a place to board -- to "try down the road." After a few of these politely told me no, I turned a corner and there it was.

This was the place. I knew this was where I had to be. A big red barn, people and horses out in the yard (hadn't seen much activity anywhere else), and most importantly, the owner of the place, were all there. One small problem. After I gave her my speech, she, too, said no.

This is where I'd usually quit. I could see her point of view. Why on earth take on a middle-aged first-time, not-yet owner, who didn't even have a horse?

But, I was so sure this was where I was going to be! How was I going to make this happen?

I'd talked with some of the women (yup, mostly all women) at the barn. They told me there was a great vet just up the road. Hmmm...I called and made an appointment to get help becoming a horse owner. She was very informative, giving me lots of useful information and ideas.

She reinforced what I knew: that first-time, especially not-so-young, owners need to find a horse that's calm, quiet, trustworthy and confidence-building. This generally translates into a gelding (male), older and bigger. These are the guys who have seen it all and some dopey woman isn't going to faze them one bit. Just what I needed.

She had some ideas about where to find such a creature, but told me if I could get the owner of that barn to help me search, that would be a very good thing. Hmmm. A two-fer. I could get help finding the horse, and hopefully, have a place to put it.

So, back I went. "Remember me? I thought maybe you could help me find a horse."

Okay...let's talk. Before I knew it, she was on the phone with a friend, who had a horse I should look at. Let's go tomorrow. Okay. One small problem. The horse was female, young and smaller. But she had spots.

Spots were important. I had a little anxiety that I wouldn't be able to pick my own horse out of a crowd. Lots of big brown horses milling around in a paddock all look the same. Trying to capture my own horse wouldn't be easy for me, let alone if I had the wrong horse! Spots would help me identify it.

Next day, off we went. This was happening fast. I knew enough not to take the checkbook. I knew I was supposed to look at several, try them out, and take my time. I knew this stuff, but there was a lot more I didn't know. And I believe in serendipity.

Serendipity, in the form of a somewhat small, spotted horse, was standing before me, in cross-ties, in the barn of this guy. What was I supposed to ask? What was I supposed to see? What was I supposed to think? I looked at that horse, and knew I was going to buy her.

Was it that I would have bought any horse that was standing there? Some friends tell me now that maybe that's true. I don't believe so. I did feel that I was "in the flow" of something happening. It felt important. It felt right. But oh, it was so wrong.

But it was her face, her eyes, that told me she was the one. I have said since that I didn't go looking for her breed, her size, her age or any of that stuff. It just turned out that's the package she came in. I did go looking for that look. And there it was. Intelligent, curious and sweet.

Her name: Autumn.

We went back with the checkbook and the trailer. She came home to that big red barn. She was mine. Now, I was a horse owner.

I was in for a ride...the ride of my life. And, maybe, the ride that saved my life.