My mother never would buy me a horse when we lived in Michigan and she would never have my horse at my uncle's ranch in Mexico shipped up to Michigan either. She always said it was too cold in Michigan for a Mexican horse. I've always believed whatever people tell me, even about that. But life wasn't all that bad without my own horse because my mother did 1/2 lease a horse for me, or so it was called back then. She paid $55 dollars a month, which was 1/2 the board, so three days a week that horse was mine.
Rocky, or Rocket J. Squirrel in the show ring, was my first 1/2 horse. Robin C. was his true owner. She didn't have time to ride him often so the 1/2 lease worked out great for both of us. Rocky was a blood bay quarter horse. Not too fancy or anything, but calm and strong. It took a lot of effort to keep him going, but we did alright. He'd run out of quarters as an old friend of mine would say. But about a year into the lease, Robin was in a terrible car accident. MGs and 18 wheelers were never a good mix. I remember she worked for the DART cup company and was driving to the stable on her lunch break when she met up with that truck. Miraculously, Robin pulled through. She had to sell ol' Rocky though, and my Mom wouldn't buy him for me.
But along came Tommy. A steeple chaser imported from Czechoslovakia with papers that called him a Furioso. This is a cross between a draft horse and a Thoroughbred. The story goes that Tommy's owner was originally from Czechoslovakia and had immigrated to this country where he became a Doctor. To keep ties with his country he had this horse imported. At some point the man gave the horse to his daughter. She brought him to the stable and offered a 1/2 lease to me knowing that Rocky was gone.
My riding instructor didn't want me to ride Tommy. He said the horse was too advanced for me. But at 13 years old, I told him that Tommy was the only horse available so I'd have to lease him anyway. When I first saw Tommy, his eyes seemed to be rolling around in his head, like a scarred animal. I could see the whites of his eyes and on a horse that's a little weird. He was just as scarred of me as I was of him. But when you are 13 you are fearless. If your lucky you've never been in much pain either so a big horse from Czechoslovakia was only a small challenge.
With the patience of a 13 year old, and the reluctant help of my riding instructor, Tommy and I became the best of friends. He'd follow me around without a lead rope, let me bath him, braid him, brush him, clean his feet, and of course, ride in the horse shows. We even jumped a four foot fence once upon a time. But my favorite rides were always the trail rides. They weren't really trail rides though, they were more like show off rides. We'd leave the stable and just go riding down the street. We'd go around the block, and past people's houses. We'd ride through corn fields and to the A and W. There was a Chip in Putt that had the greatest lemon aid. Life was great back then. But the most memorable ride I ever had with Tommy was a ride through the woods after a freshly fallen snow. The sky was white, and the ground was white. The trees were bare like sticks, but were blanketed in snow. But Tommy and I knew where the trail was and that it was safe. So we made our usual way out of the stable up the dirt road and into the woods. The only noise was the packing of the snow under Tommy's hooves and his breathing. Everything else was muffled by the snow. It was the most peaceful moment I have ever experienced in my life.
My mother was a strong woman. Although the stables were 15 miles from our house, she drove me there that day with all of that snow on the ground and some still falling. Nobody else had gone out there that morning because of the snow. The stable boy who lived there was there, but other than that it was just me and a barn full of horses on a snowy Michigan day in the middle of winter time. Maybe because my mom grew up in Mexico, she wasn't afraid of the snow because she never saw any until she moved to Michigan with my Dad. Or maybe the thought of me bugging her all day for a ride to the stable was worth the risk of the snowy drive. The memory of that ride that day so many years ago has lasted a life time. I'll have to thank my mom.
Life is full of great moments. It's also full of struggles. We just have to rewind the memories of those great moments and replay them in our minds when things get tough. Hopefully they'll keep us going.
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