Some girls always wanted the grey noble steed from fairytales when they were a kid. Or a magnificent black horse much like Black Beauty. I was a little different from the herd, and had always wanted a chestnut pony. Liver chestnut to be exact. Well I've not yet gained that wish yet, but I've come close with owning two lovely dark chestnut mares, and Honey just happens to be one of a kind.Her story, much like the tales you hear from most Standardbred owners, comes with a sad beginning, and the hope of a new life when rescued by one of my best friends and great instructor. Since then she has lost the title of "dangerous" and "unstoppable" and become the bravest, safest, most enjoyable ride I've personally owned. Yes Evo had all the fancy tricks under saddle to make the way towards the riding career I want, but the reality was I needed something smaller, more compact in movement, but could still turn into something special with the right training. Honey's exactly that. Her nature is second to none, and so long as she's being ridden, she doesn't care whether its just plodding around, or off establishing her canter. She's the type of horse to excite their rider because being ridden is fun to her. I think thats what I like about her the most.
She has her quirks, she has her typical mareish arguments, but we match so well, that we'd do anything for each other. And its only recently that I've rediscovered why I always have been so happy to tell everyone that Honey is my one true riding partner. After a freak accident that meant I shattered my leg almost two years ago, I've been somewhat in a limbo of pain and desire to ride, but allowing myself to let the pain overrule my ability to just get on with this. Admittedly, this has meant Honey has barely been worked, and become quite the porker. In the last couple of months I've realised the extent to my mistake, and like a true horse person, I am guilty, but working towards rectifying it. I guess as horrible as it sounds, her weight gain has been a blessing, because it was what triggered me to start thinking of ways to get the weight off, all coming back to riding work.
And with Evo's departure, I got the grand scheme that I was going to have a farewell ride, despite not riding him myself (he has been ridden numerous of times) since my accident in Mar 09. It didn't go as well as I had hoped for it, nothing bad, and so I was left wanting to ride, and Honey was certainly glad I wanted to. Of course the fear kicked in, I'm not scared of her, but had little faith in myself, and just needed the lunge line and ground support, whilst I did everything up in the saddle. It went better than I expected, more so because of two things - the grand effect of riding a horse who's head dominant in a flash noseband (a new addition), and the sudden appearance of brass balls between my legs. Not only did the obese ginger try her heart out and soften so she felt so lovely in my hands, she tried to carry herself correctly, despite the mass of belly both she and I have. I couldn't not reward her efforts, and I only knew one way of doing so, asking her to trot. I've not trotted, hell I thought my leg wouldn't cope! But I didn't seem to remember that at the time, just determined to give her what she wanted.
It's ironic, something that used to come to her so easily, a click, a squeeze, etc, was so hard to find. Namely because the poor girl was stunned. She hasn't been allowed to trot, because of her ridiculous Mummy going "just walkkkk Honey" whenever there was a chance of it occurring. She was highly hesitant, something I've barely experienced with her before, even when backing and starting her, she's always been super brave. It took me nagging her, and praising her for jogging and then over praising her for taking two strides to actually show her that hey, I may have gone some where all that time back in 09, the same worry she has carried with her with other riders in the past near 2 years, but I sure as hell wasn't planning on going anywhere this time. This seemed to give her the courage she needed, and soon we were trotting circles upon circles until my leg felt like it burning and going to fall off! It was the boost we both needed and after crying tears of joy upon her neck for what seemed like forever, I left with the notion that I had conquered the world. The things most horse riders take for granted are the things I treasure the most.
Of course when history is being made, no one is ever able to take photos to document it, but the next day I went with my new found attitude, my camera and photographer for the day, in my fresh pair of big girl pants and rode my horse in a bigger space than usual, off the lunge, walked, trotted, rode for freaking half an hour with a bung leg, I couldn't feel my legs when I was done, Honey even threw in a wobble-canter and I didn't panic. It ended on the buckle, and the drive I felt, the pure NEED to ride her is back. I remember before the accident, how obsessed I was with riding her. How I loved it, how we were learning what softening and carrying meant, and working from behind etc. And she remembers it all now, and despite her physical limitations, is so freaking over the moon that her lazy, paranoid, over thinking the situation of a Mother, realised how simple it is.
Just get up and ride. I wished I had clued myself onto this strategy earlier.
Tomorrow, or should I say later today, is our third ride. She seemed a little bit annoyed that yesterday there was no ride, and to be honest I was too! But I'll make up for it tomorrow I'm sure. I'm hoping to introduce a ground pole tomorrow to navigate, and work on maintaining tempo at both the walk and trot. I'm sure Honey will try to throw in another excited wobble-canter, but for the first time in a long time, I can say I don't care! ^_^
And to end this ridiculous long blog of my emotionally filled story of how much I love my ginger ponz, here's a few snaps from our 8/01/11 ride. Please note, due to belly size, and short girths, my saddle is forward.
Chelle x
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