It’s been just over a year since I had to say goodbye to my first forever horse, Stoney. The adieu that evening was heart-wrenching and still has me shedding tears on occasion. Anyone who’s had a special pet that they’ve had to say goodbye to understands. There’s a hole there that doesn’t exactly heal, though the yawning void it initially exists in eventually mellows. Mortality is fleeting, even for our favorite creatures. It helped, too, that I knew Stoney wasn’t going to be the last. There were other horses out there for me. It was part of the peace of the reality I had hoped for. But, I also needed patience. I knew I had to wait for the timing to be right.
Since I needed some time to grieve Stoney, and wasn’t particularly eager to buy another horse right before winter weather set in (I still have Dancer to dote on), I decided to wait until the following spring to being a casual search for Stoney’s replacement. I joined groups on Facebook, and started networking with horse people again–asking if anyone in the area specialized in English disciplines, like eventing and dressage, where they went for lessons, if anyone had favorite breeds they’ve enjoyed riding. One huge part of the process was the reminder that if it’s even remotely related to horses, it’s heavily word-of-mouth. The best vets, the most reliable farriers, the most experienced trainers, the favorite local tack stores… In every instance, I appreciated the warmth and friendliness of the people I spoke to, which only added to my desire to wiggle my way into the horse world again. But first? I needed to get back into the saddle.
As much as I loved Stoney, our last fifteen years saw little time with my butt on his back. Not because I lost the passion for the sport, but because so much of that time was spent either pregnant, nursing, or merely trying to keep my head afloat while swimming in diapers and baby socks and toddlers. I don’t regret the time I took to step back from riding–I don’t think Stoney minded in the least being a lawn ornament in his golden years, either. I do count myself extremely fortunate that I have a husband who understands that the role that horses play in my life is not always related to the number of times I am able to get in the saddle. Lesser men may have tried to make me sell my horses. Not Jack. Horses are one way that he very readily accepts as a portion of the key to my heart. Alas, suffice it to say that I loved all of my time with Stoney (even when he was pinning his ears at me in the middle of winter, demanding that I feed him NOW), but I was very, very excited to find a barn to start riding again.
I don’t think it was coincidence that I landed at the lesson barn when and where I did. I spent a few blissful months in the spring and early summer riding and being taught by middle-aged moms, some of whom were also rediscovering their love for riding. It helped me rebuild my confidence in my equestrian skills, know what qualities I did and didn’t like in horses, and reaffirm that even through the many life changes I’ve seen, I am still a horse girl at heart.
Even though I was eager to horse shop in the spring, I knew while looking ahead to our extremely busy summer that it probably wouldn’t be wise to buy a horse and leave them to sit at home alone while I was off gallivanting with family (especially since Dancer was also away at boarding school to learn a thing or two). So I bided my time a little longer, and the second I was home from my last out-of-town trip, I went shopping.
I decided after considering all my equestrian experiences that I wanted another gelding, preferably less than ten years old, a half draft for their generally calm demeanor, with bonus points if it was Amish trained. While there are some horse people who (oddly) still stereotype people, I think Amish trained horses are often an undervalued resource for anyone looking for a calm, family horse. Sure, there are bad apples out there who use brute force to make their horses cower and behave, but that can be true of anybody, regardless of religious (or otherwise) affiliation. What’s really neat about the good Amish families, who so heavily rely on horses, is how much education their horses get. Whereas most horses are slowly trained by exposure and repetition, often in an arena with minimal distraction, Amish horses are getting their education from firsthand experience. They’re ridden by children to school, taken to the grocery store, passed by cars on the road, traipse around fields and through towns. Most of them are so unbothered by stimuli because they’ve seen it all before.
With my wish list in hand, I started messaging people who had horses who met my criteria. While some of them were within budget, a vast majority of horses were on the east coast, which is notoriously expensive for horse shopping. Not that those gorgeous horses weren’t worth it, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of dropping almost as much as I made per year at my first real job on a horse. I tried to keep my hopes up, and not worry about the soft deadline I was hoping to meet–Dancer was scheduled to come home at the start of August, and since I’d seen how well she’d responded to being back in a herd again, I really wanted to give her the gift of having a friend to join her at home. I spent way too much time perusing and asking and praying that I’d find the right horse. Then, I did.
I don’t remember exactly how I came across his posting, but it was one of those kind of lightbulb moments. He ticked all the boxes, and was priced reasonably enough that he was a definite contender. The downside? He was five hours away in Ohio. And, school had just started. I wasn’t like I could drop everything and just drive all the way there with a trailer in tow, just to see if he was the right one for us. Except, Jack reminded me that I could. We had to finagle around Jack’s work schedule to make sure kids would get to and from school on time, hurry to fix a few things on the trailer so it could make the long haul, and get a vet to check him out first so I’d know there were no underlying health issues. When things miraculously all work out, it feels like confirmation that I was doing the right thing.
So, poor Adam, who is not nearly as enamored with horses as I am, woke up with me at 4:45am on a Friday morning and made the drive to Ohio. Huge shout out to that kid–I dumped him in the truck with a blanket and pillow, still in his pajamas, and with some snacks, water, and a tablet for him. Other than a request to go to get a kid’s meal for lunch, and a couple half-hearted, “Are we there yet?”s, he did so amazing during our travels to see Brock.
I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting to find when I pulled up where Brock was being boarded, but a state-of-the-art equestrian facility wasn’t exactly it. I mean, I walked in the door, and one horse was getting an electromagnetic treatment while another trotted on an indoor water treadmill for horses. The real kicker is the owner of the facility is Amish… someday, someone’s going to have to explain that all a little more clearly for me, but honestly? I don’t care. I was so enamoured with the barn and the care the horses were receiving that it was one more nudge letting me know that this wasn’t a horrible waste of time. Turns out, Brock was at the barn because along with recuperating injured working Amish horses, they also re-home those who’ve retired from their work. That might mean that they’re elderly or broken down, but Brock happened to come from a family where the kids were getting older and moving away, so they just didn’t need so many horses. There wasn’t anything wrong with him other than needing to drop a few pounds, a slight (and kind of adorable) pigeon toe to his left foot, and the fact that he hadn’t been ridden in a good long while.
Still, we saddled him up and after being shown some of what he could do, I climbed on and ran him through his paces. His walk was forward, trot was steady, and his canter? Well, that was almost non-existent. He can canter, but so often, Amish horses are just asked to trot faster, especially if they’re trained to drive. So, watch out dressage world–Brock might still be confused about why he needs to canter with a human on his back BUT he has a killer extended trot.
After I rode, I called Jack to weigh the pros and cons (and beg for any quick haggling tips… I am no good at negotiating price for fear of offending the seller). When it came down to it, I thought Brock would be a great addition to our farm. I faced my fears and managed to chip about 10% off his price (go me!), paid the Amish owner via Venmo (HAHAHA!), and loaded Brock on my humble trailer, bound for home. Interestingly, he came home almost a year to the day that I had to say goodbye to Stoney? Coincidence? Nope.
Brock’s been here for a couple of weeks now, and the more I spend time with him, the more I like him. He and Dancer had zero drama meeting, and act like they’ve known each other for years. Every morning, Dancer greets me with a dainty neigh, and Brock echoes it with a deep, manly one. He’s handsome, muscular, and has great hair, which has earned him the nickname of Fabio. I’ve finally found a saddle wide enough for his back, and am in the process of building an outdoor arena so I can ride him (and Dancer) in earnest with the kids. I am so, so thrilled to have found him, and have him home. There are so many adventures I’m looking forward to with him. He’s such a kind soul with a great personality, and already feel like he’s been my buddy for ages. So excited for this next chapter with my next forever horse!
