Hoof Beats: Learning from Horses
You can always learn something new about horses. What first interested me about dressage was Kathy Denby-Wrightson, my co-author for “The Beginning Dressage Book.” She told me, “You’re always learning something,” and pointed out that Alois Podhajsky — who saved the Lipizzaner horses at the Spanish Riding School in Vienna, Austria, during World War II with a little help from General Patton — dedicated one of his books “To my horses — my teachers.” Kathy was right. Even though I sold some of my horses, I learned something from them, too.
When I moved to Santa Barbara, California, to go to graduate school, I realized that horses, especially grade horses, were very cheap there, and because of the weather, they didn’t necessarily need a stall in a barn. So I bought a horse — my first. She was a gray mare named Spook, and she had to be ridden in what we called then a “mechanical hackamore” (not the traditional Western braided kind). She was part of a rent string in Bakersfield, and I bought her out of pity. She came with her saddle, and the two set me back $200. She refused to tie and spooked at anything that moved, but she loved to run.
Then a friend living on Orcas Island off the coast of Seattle invited me to come and visit. She introduced me to her neighbor, a small, sweet, old gnome of a man named Johnny. The first thing he asked me was, would I like to take a ride on one of his horses? He had a small, sweet, buckskin stallion he called Kildy, and had bred the horse to several mares. Most of his get looked exactly like their buckskin sire. Of course I said yes.
When I arrived, the first thing Johnny did was introduce me to Kildy. He was a sturdy horse, compact with good, clean legs, and even though he was a stallion, he was friendly and obviously thought that Johnny had hung the moon. Not exactly what I was expecting.
Neither was my ride. I had anticipated a leisurely trail ride with Johnny in the island’s green, woodsy interior. Much to my surprise Johnny turned out to be a steeplechase fanatic who had built his own hunt course. (At least that’s what he called it.) He owned a lot of acreage, and used most of it to build his “course” by felling trees — big trees — over the trail in various spots. Some of the jumps were short and wide. Others were tall and practically vertical. I had a brief moment of panic — in addition to the fallen trees, this course went up and down hills. I decided it was time to confess. I told Johnny that even though I had learned to ride hunt seat, I had never jumped anything. After he saddled both horses, Johnny buckled a stirrup leather around Kildy’s neck and told me to lean forward and grab it whenever we approached a jump.
If I’d had any sense, I would have been terrified. But one of the blessings of youth is that you think you’ll never die. So, without a helmet or proper riding clothes (as I remember I was wearing jeans and sneakers), I on Kildy followed Johnny down the hill and over the first jump. I was hooked—it felt as though we were flying. It was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. That’s the only time I’ve ever jumped a horse — on purpose, anyway — but I learned from the experience: sometimes it’s better to just let the horse do the thinking. If I’d had a background in jumping — counting strides, etc. —the ride might have ended very differently.
As for Spook, she was lame when I got back to Santa Barbara. It turned out she had a chronic infection in one hind foot, and had to be given a shot of antibiotics once a day. She hated it because it hurt, and made it so hard for the ranch foreman to catch her that I had to get rid of her. She would need shots for the rest of her life. But even Spook taught me a couple of things. Think twice before buying a horse out of pity. And if you decide on a suitable horse, ALWAYS get a veterinarian to give him a soundness exam before you make up your mind.
Joan Fry is a lifelong horse lover and the author of “Backyard Horsekeeping: The Only Guide You’ll Ever Need” (The Lyons Press, Revised Edition, 2007). She can be reached via email at joan@joanfry.com.
This article originally appeared on The Pueblo Chieftain: Hoof Beats: Learning from Horses
