A Baby Boomer Dreams of Arabian Horses Part 1

As clearly as if it were yesterday, I can still see that moment in my mind’s eye. Walking out of the stall with the bay Arabian mare, we turned to proceed down the aisle. I looked over at her and my heart melted. Rolled over softly as if she were in the western bridle, the mare hung her head. Her large doe eyes and sweet expression drew me to her and etched her memory forever in my mind.

I’d only been helping out at the big show barn for a few days, after not being around horses for twenty years. I had never owned my own horse and didn’t really have much experience but I had a dream. Someday I was going to own an Arabian horse, a mare. I definitely wanted a mare because someday I wanted to breed these magnificent creatures. And it was important to me to do it right, so I was hanging around this show barn and helping out so I could learn all I needed to know to be a responsible horse owner. While I was honing my skills, I was going to save up my money so some day I could buy that dream horse.

It’s funny when I think back to those times. I thought I had a good foundation but my experience was very limited. Most of what I did know I’d read in books. The only thing I had going for me was my passion for Arabian horses and getting it right.

In the beginning, all those horses looked alike, half-Arabians, purebred Arabians it was all lost on me. With 55 horses in the barn, barn names on the work board and registered names on the stall doors, I couldn’t even rely on those to sort out who was who. To start off with, the only way I could tell the horses apart was by color. If there were two bays out in the field together and I was supposed to put them back in their stalls, I had to have help identifying them and telling me where they lived. I went home at night with my head swimming trying to sort out the details of the day. The whole scale of the operation seemed overwhelming. But I was determined to learn for the love of an Arabian horse, my own Arabian horse.

The first horse’s name I learned was that one mare, the one with the big doe eyes and the sweet look. After that first day when she grabbed my heart, I always recognized her instantly. I couldn’t tell the other 54 horses apart but I knew this mare on sight. Her memory was etched so clearly in my mind and soon so was her name.

The people from my therapy groups thought it was fate that I should find this mare. To them her name alone said we belonged together. I suppose that would have offended most people but for me there was definitely irony in falling head over heels for a mare named Scandalous.

To be continued........

Part 2

This is my entry for a Valentine’s day Horse Lover’s Blog Carnival that will be hosted by Lynda at Hoofbeats

Periodically, I will add to this story, it’s been an amazing journey. I will post the second part of Are You a Good Advocate for Your Horse? tomorrow.