That's What the Trail is Like

Dewey and I went with the psychologist who has the white horse on a trail ride the other day. I've been scared to go, scared is in fact the way I do everything, so even though I'm still surprised to SEE scared every day, she is in fact, assigned to me. This trail I had never been on, and thank God no one told me about it. She says on the way in, well, it's a little narrow, and there are bushes that will scratch us on the way through - but I thought, well, I'm in it now. There's a horse in front of us, so that's the brakes. He can't barrel ahead. All I have to do is try and sit deeply, and remember to breathe. Turns out Dewey is an AMAZING trail horse. We went through a river up to his knees, with a rocky bottom. We went throught it like four times, because we had to keep crossing through it, because this trail was like a video game, it zig zagged, there were low hanging branches, we had to bend way down to our horses' necks to avoid getting knocked off, we had to turn tightly around stumps and bushes and scraggly trees - we were on a deer trail in the thick of the woods. Even though you could hear Wentworth Blvd and the cars going by about four horse lengths up the hill and away from us, down in the river, we were in Maine. Dewey will do anything you ask of him. He takes in anxious situations by looking at them with clear, thinking eyes, and then listening to you. If you say go ahead, he GOES AHEAD. He turned and angled and trudged and bent around tree branches and went down hills and up hills and we didn't get stuck on our stirrups or banged off or poked into the sky - we got through it. After a trechearous section he would sometimes say what I felt - it's like he held his breath to get through a tangle of trees and vines, and when we got to a more open section, he would sigh, a short sigh like "OKAY. Shew. Did you see that? Okay. Whew. Did it." I felt the same way he did. He just expressed it better. When he sighs, I see him. I see what he's thinking! I take a breath. I relax my legs. We are almost the same person. Both hostages of the trail, wide-eyed little orphan Annies. Screwed up our courage. Pummelled through. Took a breath. Saw we were somewhere beautiful, floating river, orange red yellow fall leaves. Pummelled again. Breathed again. Beautiful again. That's what the trail is like. This horse gives me courage and confidence. He is sure, usually, most of the time, that we can get through it. And when he's not sure, I get down off of him, give him a carrot and lead him through the scary parts. Then he's sure. Cause we trade off being brave. And we're together.

Dewey the Magnificent

LOVING Dewey. Still scared everytime I ride, because of a bolting draft mare that we won't mention, but Dewey restores my confidence little by little each day. By just being himself. He doesn't even know he does it. He's just a big gawky teenager horse. But the clearer and stronger I get with him, the more he appreciates my guidance. And he loves a carrot. Plus I drove to Fillmore and got an amazing saddle for $100 which helps. He's not in pain, I'm not in pain, it's a good thing. All the little things add up. Now I just have to get a job.

Open Land

I am thirsty for farmland. I'm doing a puzzle of a barn, a rolling green field and a pond. Because when I finish the puzzle, I plan to move IN to it. It is hard to be a farmer in the city. Especially when you're a Mind Farmer, and all you want to do is see the animals in the field, and pet everything, and feed everything, and write about everything, and not grow anything (okay, strawberries would be good).

I am thirsty for open, empty land. But I have Dewey, and the kids, and B, and we live indoors. I have to figure out how to get where I'm heading next. Make a living while stoking my open land needs. Momish.

Stormy Weather

My advice to people who want to train a PMU horse - don't bother. It's pretty un-PC of me to say, (to use alot of abbreviations in one sentence), but after working my butt off for a entire year with a PMU and having average results, and now working 30 days with a 4 year Thoroughbred and having stellar results, it's just not worth the effort. It could be that mares are just really difficult. Geldings are more even-tempered. And Maggie came SO far. But I never felt safe on her. Where Dewey is like a lifeboat in a storm. Maggie was just the storm. True, Dewey is looking all around at the dolphins and the buoys and the waves and waving to friends like a teenager, but when I ask him to focus, he doesn't give me the finger. I learned that I'm not allowed to own mares ever again. And Dewey is a rainbow.

My Little Pony

(Waffles, in better days) My really wonderful friend Caroline offered me her pony when our other pony Waffles turned out to be an a**hole. Then it turns out all ponies are a**holes. Her pony was the fourth (and last) in a long line of awful ponies that I have tried and rejected. I had a stomachache all weekend while she lived with us, because she looked like a Barbie troll (long flowing blonde hair on a body that looked like a fat banana). I kept thinking she was going to break in half, her stomach cracking into the ground, she was so U shaped. When we finally got on her, on what turned out to be the ride back to returning her to Caroline, she just started bucking like her feet were on fire. It has cured me, this need for a short horse. I will in fact, if I can ever afford a buddy for Dewey, the sweetest horse alive, find a regular, gentle quarter horse, that is not a pony. That does not have a need to skyrocket its rider into space. A horse like Dewey, who likes people, who likes riding, a gelding that is happy being a gelding and not having any other purpose other than eating and being a good friend. I learned, I think, that the pony that bucked me off and broke my hand was an old, mean mare. That every pony I've gotten on has tried to buck me off. Hopefully that I'm not the bad rider I started thinking I was, but that (with Dewey's help), I'm learning that one must choose one's rides carefully. Taller, gentler. Geldings. All key ingredients.

My Barn is a Hammock

Hey, I saw a show about Amish kids that want to get out of being Amish. Basically, they're just a bunch of 8th grade educated kids that feed chickens all day and dream of wearing jeans and going to New York City. The joke is that I'd give up NYC to go and feed chickens all day and lay in the grass looking up at the wide Amish sky. I do like books, though. So Amish isn't the answer, but open land, reading, and animals (and kids) and exploring are certainly becoming important. Leave New York to the Amish. Week Three for Dewey and Waffles. I am doing everything differently than I did with Maggie. Now I feel bad that Mags had to live here all by herself. It's really better for her where she is, surrounded by her herd. I asked her to do too much. Dewey and Waffles are becoming solid as a team, and we're also starting to take them out on walks by themselves, so they get used to what they need to do, and to behave themselves. My friend Mary says its like they're your new employees, and you have to show them what to expect, what stuff they'll be doing, and then they'll enjoy the routine. Just like raising kids, I guess. Set up the track, and then make it a reliable track. And enjoy the time together. Every morning at 8:30, I get to go out and play with the horses, and it's the greatest time of day. Anxiety is starting to dissipate each time. Replaced by gratitude. And fun. We get to go out into the "wilderness" and cross water, a running stream and a sort of hidden fairy pool. It's so nice, to ride to the water. They did eat 6 bales of hay in 2 weeks. That's scary. But I'll fatten them up and then maintain them at a good weight. Hopefully I can get some people in here for riding lessons, and then buy hay with the proceeds. Or take Barry and the kids to dinner. Anyway, being out with the horses makes me want to have a pig and a tiny cow, and a duck. And better hair, that I can make into braids. I like being out with the horses because it feels like lost time, like time when I was a kid and hanging out with my Thoroughbred. It was never wasted time, it was like time just opened up and I fell in. It makes things very relaxed, my barn is a hammock. I hang everything out to dry and then I just sway there.

Good Brownies

Last Friday, I was saying goodbye to Maggie. Then I had two horse-free days. I even contemplated never getting another horse. I thought, wow, more time to clean my house. Organize. Take the kids on walks.

Monday, here comes Waffles. An 18 year old Fjord pony. Okay, we'll take her in and try her out. She can't eat much, she's like a little blonde muffin. The first hour she's here I decided she's way scary, I don't like new things, she's not right for us, what have I done.

A day later, a lady in the neighborhood tells me to come meet a 4 yr old black Thoroughbred gelding. 4 is kinda young, 4 means insane rides with difficult years ahead of desensitizing. I meet Dewey, and he looks like a movie star. I take him on a trail ride, through water, up hills, past trucks, he's like Robert Redford mellow and we just ride home with Waffles. I rode the horse directly home. All the way thinking THIS IS A TOTAL MISTAKE.

It's been two days. I've taken him on 2 trail rides with Waffles. Waffles has turned into the steadiest, readiest, sweetest pony who ever lived. Dewey is a tall drink of water who doesn't want to share his food, but otherwise, he's an amazing horse.

After ONE YEAR of Maggie, she has suddenly evaporated into these two steady and calm horses. In one week. Of course, I've had diarrhea from all the changes. I can't get off the toilet. But other than that, it's been the strangest week of my life. At one point I had so much anxiety about all the changes, it felt like someone lifted off the top of my head and was stirring up my brains. I think that was when I was on the trail through water with the horse and pony I don't know, who now live at my house.

So now I have to get a job of some sort, because I think these are our horses. Oh yeah, and then TODAY, after ALL this, a friend calls and says hey, you can have my pony, and her little cart, just keep her for free. If she'd said that A WEEK AGO, things would have been alot EASIER!! But I'm thinking we'll see how these two dudes do at our house. Waffles had nobody to play with. Dewey needed a buddy and a family. They're trained, and they're nice to everybody. It's like being handed a plate of brownies after swimming the English Channel. You deserve it, and they're good brownies.