On occasion, one does something incredibly stupid.
I did that today. I knew better than to do what I did, there was no point to doing what I did, I knew I'd regret doing it afterwards. I should never have gotten on that horse.
I'd just come back from a really nice trail ride on the superbly calm and steady Duquesne (also known as Dink), and one of the other ladies who boards her horse at the ranch was on her horse. The horse was standing very patiently, occasionally ducking his head to find the bit in his mouth, but not fidgeting.
She's trying to sell this horse, you see, but she's not having any takers. People won't even come look at him, because he's at least part Arabian, and Arabians have a bit of a reputation for being flighty. In fact, this woman had just been bucked off her friend's Arabian-mix just about an hour before. Whoops!
This horse isn't your average poorly-bred, undersized, wired up Arabian nightmare, however. He's a Polish Arabian, 16 hands high (that's a big horse), and somewhere in his history, he was allegedly trained for dressage. I told the woman I'd hoped to see her riding him. She was agreeable, and set off around the arena at a walk and then a nicely collected trot. He was graceful and calm, even though there was an insane little mare galloping madly around the outskirts of the arena. After the demonstration, she rode up to me. "I just want to sell him to someone who can appreciate his training, and get myself a quarter horse that I can ride on and not have to keep my hands on the reins like this."
"Sand knows a little about dressage," offered another friend who was on her horse nearby.
She offered to let me ride him.
Yes, I know a little about dressage. Enough to know that when I gathered up the reins, and he collected himself like an angel, that he'd had a good bit of training. We walked around the arena, and I barely had to close my hand around the rain before he responded to a whisper of a touch. He moved into a slow jog, he stopped, he backed up, he stepped sideways -- all to the lightest of clues.
I can't afford him. She wants ten times what I have in my piggy bank. But alas! Now I can't stop thinking about him.
4 comments:
And that makes you think.
If only wishes were horses...
Oh Sand, I'm so relieved! I thought you were going to say he tossed you and I'm thinking, "Her back!!!" If my relief were dollars, you'd certainly have enough to bring him home.
Thanks for the concern, Kathy. Kris, if I was meant to own that horse, we'd have won the lottery.
That reminds me -- play the lottery again on Wednesday! Maybe I'll have another horse on Thursday!
Kathy, I thought the same thing. Do we know her, or what?
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