My First Love, Part 3

When I was in 6th grade, my parents gave in and agreed that it was time for me to have my own horse. My trainer put out feelers with her contacts to find me one. Shortly after, she was informed that there was a horse boarded at a barn across town that had just gone up for sale. She was a bit older, but was a veteran show horse who had been winning on the show circuit in LA County. Her name was CC with a show name of Critic's Choice. A little, shiny bay mare, she was as cute as could be. My trainer and I went to the barn across town and tried her out. She was nice, a little stubborn - which is typical of a mare, but she seemed like a good fit for me.

We decided to bring her back to my barn and try her out for a week before making a decision. Things went well during the trial, and after a couple of weeks she was mine.

This, however, is the one and only picture I have a CC. It was a short-lived partnership between the two of us. As we trained for the upcoming show season and pushed her a bit at the jumping, we realized why she had been sold in the first place. She had become sour which meant she had lost the desire to jump. I would estimate that during the time that I owned her I jumped about 75% of the fences WITHOUT her. She'd stop and I'd fly over her neck onto to the ground on the other side of the jump. I was only about 10 at this time so my trainers would often get on to work her and she would even stop with them. She was not the horse for me and over time fear set in and I didn't enjoy riding her or anyone else. It's not fun riding a horse when you fall off of it all the time. I got scared and, even though I always "got back on" I wasn't having any fun. We finally decided to put her back up for sale. Luckily, we were able to sell her, but my confidence was shot after having this little horse. We were in the market for a new one, but I wasn't so sure a new one would help my confidence.

My First Love, pt. 2

At first, riding lessons were just that. Once-a-week, I went to the barn and was shown how to groom a horse, tack a horse, walk, trot, and canter horse, bathe a horse, feed a horse, and ride a horse. I savoured every minute of it.

After a little while, my lessons increased to twice a week, and then the woman giving the lessons gave my parents the name of a trainer who would be able to take my riding to the next level. I moved to another barn and started training there. I didn't have my own horse, but was allowed to use my trainer's horses.

After moving barns, I met a lot of new friends and my life revolved around the ranch. On weekends, my parents would drop me off for an 8:00 or 9:00 am lesson and I would spend the rest of the day just hanging out, calling them about 5:00 PM to come back and pick me up, still wearing my barn clothes and riding boots. By the time I got home, my boots had become one with my legs and my dad would literally drag me off the couch and around the living room floor trying to get them off my feet. Good times!

I still didn't have my own horse, but begged on a daily basis to get one.

I started showing my trainer's horses when I was about 9. Horseshows took up the weekend. Saturday was spent prepping for the show - bathing and braiding the horses, cleaning the tack, gathering the supplies, and putting everything into the trailer. We had to get up bright and early to be back at the ranch about 6:00 in the morning so we could load the horses into the trailer and arrive at the horseshow which usually began at 8:00 am and lasted all day.

Here I am riding Lady, one of my trainer's horses.

Here I am riding Cleo.

It was great that I was given the opportunity to ride and show other people's horses, but I wanted a horse of my own so badly that it hurt. I would come home from the barn, go to my room, stare at my Duran Duran posters and cry for hours about it. A couple of my close friends at the barn had their own horses and I would talk about them constantly. Finally, my parents gave in.

My First Love, pt. 1

From the ages of 6 to 18 years old, my life revolved around horses.

It all started when I was about 5 years old. My mom took me to a local stable that rented horses by the hour to take on trail rides. My mom paid for our ride and we were led to the horses. Mom got a nice bay (brown) horse, and I got a horse with a perm. Here I am with the Farrah Fawcett feathered hair. Also, if you look closely, you can see the rubber "thong" or flip flop key chain attached to my belt loop. Gotta love the late 70s.

Mom had never been on a horse before, but the two of us set off on an hour ride through the wilderness, which is now West Ranch (for those of you who are local to the SCV). I remember bits and pieces of this ride, but Mom and I were reminiscing about it last week and she had more details. She and I rode for a little while in one direction. We wanted to go the other way on the road, but changing directions kind of seemed like we were going back to the barn to my mom's horse. Now, if anyone has ever been on a trail horse before, you know that when a trail horse thinks it's going back to the ranch, there's no stopping it. It wants to go back. So, my mom's horse was stubborn and kept turning around on the road, wanting to go back. Apparently, I took charge. "Come on mom," I said as I took the other horse's reins and led her horse alongside mine (the one with the perm) while we walked passed the ranch area and along the road for the rest of our ride.

That did it. I got the sickness; the horse lover's sickness. I think it is genetic though because my Grandpa Chet, on my mom's side, also loved horses. In fact he owned race horses. He passed away before I turned one, but his love of horses must be in my blood. I begged and begged my parents to let me take horseback riding lessons. Around that time, I was also signed up for AYSO soccer. My parents gave me a choice; it was soccer or riding lessons. I'm sure my parents were secretly hoping that I chose the cheaper sport of soccer, but I didn't.

I started riding lessons with the help of my Grandma Dot (mom's mom) when I was 6, and for the next 12 years, horses were my life.