Well, I bought another horse.
Many (some? a few?) will remember that a month ago my much-loved Morgan,
Beaver, shattered his left radius in a freak pasture accident. It was one hell
of a blow... for all his faults, which were many and varied, he was a horse who
attracted love and blew it to a bright flame.
So I went shopping.... and found a horse. He passed his PPE and I sent the
He is CAL Spellbinder --- CAL Midnight Enchanter (Windhover Enchantment x Kayde
de Jarnette) x Harvest Melody (Ransomvale Gabriel x Roselyn Prima Donna). And a
spellbinder he is. My vet and my farrier rose up in chorus to me and said,
"This is the nicest young horse we've seen, mentally and physically, in years,
and if you don't buy him you're NUTS." So I did :-).
He is three. He is beautiful. He is pretty much untrained, but has been handled
a lot and was imprinted as a foal. He is ... a little lacking in the general
manners department. But we can fix that, he really likes the part where you say
Good Boy and pat him, so he learns fast. And the barn manager where we board is
fabulous with young horses and loves them, and has been very good to me over
Beaver... of course, he wanted me to get a TB. But not for me, it's Morgans all
Tony is a bright, candy-apple-red bay, with a star that looks exactly like
somebody got him with a white paint ball between the eyes, and then it dripped
a bit into a stripe. He has legs like tree trunks, a long hip, a somewhat
upside down neck (such training as he's had has been in draw reins.... oh well,
we can fix it), and a general look of having been assembled from a basket of
horse parts rather
than being a horse :-). But in about two years he is going to be utterly
spectacular, two inches taller or so (by the string tests), with a correct neck
(that's the part that's easy to fix with correct work) and the reach and
impulsion of the best of the best. Plus he is quite sensible and solid in the
mind, not nutsy at all, and his version of a big spook is to pop his ears up
and snork a bit at the monsters in the corn field (where Beaver would have been
changing ends in the air, and Gofer, the TB, would flatly refuse to go).
I do want to thank everyone again for your support and condolences. It meant
more to me than I can say to feel that I had a community around me that really
understood how attached one can be to a horse. I don't love Tony yet. I will (I
tend to love anything I feed and take care of, so I have to be careful what I
feed and take care of [which observation and caution would have served me well
in younger years concerning men, I might add]).
But aside from the love, I think this horse can be the partner and friend I
really want, to do the things I want to do: dressage, yes---but also just
messing around, hacking, popping over low jumps, playing games in the field,
trying out polo or eventing or hilltopping or .... Beaver couldn't do those
things, he was too---- I dunno, too frenetic, too demanding, too
tugging-on-my-skirt ...... MommyMommyMommyMommy .... that was Beav, in spite of
my best efforts to mainstream him. Tony is more grown up at three than Beaver
was at six.
Thanks again to everyone. You're the best. (Betcha never thought an AOL-er
would say that.)
"I count myself in nothing else so happy as in a soul remembering my good