The Search (Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch...)

Here's an exciting new update to my previous post -- Back in the Saddle Again -- For Realz!

That was my chronicle back in early July of getting in the saddle again after more than a decade and a half. I also wrote about my pipe dream of someday riding our 3-year-old Thoroughbred filly, who was currently in saddle training with my instructor after having flunked out at the racetrack due to an unforeseen breathing issue.

My wish did, indeed, turn out to be a pipe dream because not long after that, we got an offer on Stars from a young barrel racer, and our filly is now well-started on her new career. In fact, she's already competed!

So my goals shifted a bit, and the new adjustment was to give some serious thought to getting my own riding horse again. I told my instructor to be on the look out for a sensible, kind, well-broke, solid, stock-type, 15+ hand horse that might come up for sale in the area. And if that horse had a bit of flash--like a bald face or a lovely overo paint pattern--all the better. 

That's actually a much taller order than it sounds. Horses that fit this "Mr./Ms. Perfect" description rarely come on the market and when they do, they sell fast! And after my partnership with Silver, our retired show champion, dressage mount, trail horse, elk hunter, friend and all around "Mr. Perfect," I knew it might be an impossible quest. We'd owned Silver for 29 years which meant that--although I'd also had a series of other riding horses--a good chunk of my life in the saddle had been aboard Silver.

Not just any horse would begin to fill his horseshoes.

Two of Silver's big show wins. He was only a yearling!

Silver with his dam, Mighty Mission.
Can you say "spittin' image?"
Silver is on the right.

David and Silver on the ranch.

A photo of Silver in 2003 when he was 20 years old.
He'd live for another 11 years. 

We lost Silver four years ago at the grand old age of 31. We'd owned him since he was two. We both miss him so much.

Fast forward three months--to last Saturday. I got a text from my trainer:

I think I found a horse for you!  

with two photos...

Ohmigosh! I said. Well, he certainly fills the "flashy" part, and then some.

He was an eight-year-old Paintaloosa gelding who had apparently just come in from Texas. And, my trainer assured me, he was kind and gentle, and exactly the sort of horse I was looking for. She was going to go retrieve him and bring him to her stable so I could take a look.

Two days later, David and I arrived literally moments after he did (excited much?) and after just stepping off the horse trailer into this strange, new place filled with other horses he didn't know, excited, barking dogs, flapping chickens, honking geese and various other members of the resident menagerie, he was perfectly calm. Perfectly.

"His name is Smudge," she told me. "But if you buy him, I think you should probably change it." We agreed. "Smudge" didn't seem a very flattering handle, and I definitely liked what I saw.

Since it was getting late, I said I'd be back the next day to work with him a bit. Returning the next morning, I spent some time brushing and grooming him and working around him on the ground, and again, he was a gentleman. But good on the ground doesn't always equal a good riding horse. Before leaving that day, I gave my trainer a deposit and said I'd like to return the next afternoon to "test drive" him.

The day started out mild and sunny, but as my riding time approached, it started to get gray and windy. 

This was a bit of a nail-biter for me, because even though "Smudge" seemed completely mannerly on the ground, windy and horses don't always mix well, and it was hard to tell how he would behave under saddle. I was more than a little apprehensive but after we got him tacked up, my trainer was first to get on him once we'd taken him into the arena.

No issues, other than one hesitant side-step near a mounting block, which he'd obviously never encountered before.

Now it was my turn.

Getting on a strange horse for the first time is always a little unnerving for me, but in just a few, short minutes I was feeling very relaxed and totally at ease. He responded well to cues and knew what "whoa" meant. He was just right--not too wide, not too tall, and very soft in the mouth. When I talked to him, he flicked an ear to listen. He was completely responsive, just waiting for my next cue.

Suddenly, everything felt so familiar. Okay, I may have shed a little tear when the thought struck me: "OMG, it's like riding Silver again!"

And that's when I knew he was the right horse for me. My trainer had hit a home run.

First Ride

A very good start. :)

 
David stopped by on his way home from work, we talked it over for a bit, and...I bought him.

I think this could be the beginnings of a beautiful friendship. Welcome to the family, Gunnar.

Have a wonderful week.