Welcome To My New Blog.

Welcome to diary of a silly horse. In case you were wondering, that's him, there, the big, beautiful face taking up the screen.
I hadn't intended to ever start one of those cutsie little 'this is my pet' blogs, but... Well, LOOK at that face.

This is the story of Jojo, 'The Face' and me, and why we do what we do. I decided to keep this blog because after spending just a few minutes with him, I realized that I never wanted to miss one second, or forget one thing that he did, one trial overcome, one accomplishment fulfilled.

So, here it is. Happy Reading.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Pumpkin Pie...


Yep, that there is a horsey hug. Life is good.

One of the first things I learned about Jojo is that he is the most easily spooked horse in history. The second thing I learned about him was that he is more sensitive to me than I am to him.
BAD HORSE MOMMY!

His spooks aren't bad. He freezes, sometimes sidesteps and only twice has he bolted on me. Both times he was easily reigned in and calmed down. It was the second of these times that his nickname was born.

We were happily trotting along the outside round pen (Which happens to be surrounded on two sides by tall weeds.) when suddenly, he bolts.BAM! I haven't been on a horse in 7 years and suddenly I'm full speed. For a second. Till he reached the fence, when he stopped short (Thank GOD!) and I was all wobbly, hands in every direction, doing everything I could possibly do WRONG. Which is when I screamed out (I Know, perfect thing to do, right?)
PUNKIN PIE!
Jojo, by now probably just praying to have me off his back and be done with it, stands there while I catch my breath and we both look behind to see what crazy bear had done us in such a cruel way. It was a barn cat. Little black and white fluff named Oreo.
Really?

Said cat then perches, smack in the middle of the round pen, commences looking self satisfied with his tail curled smartly around his feet.

Then Jojo gives me a sideways glance when I have to dismount for a moment and check his saddle. THAT I have come to know as his sheepish look. The look that says 'I'm sorry, Mom, but I'm just a KID!' Yes, it's adorable and gets him out of all kinds of trouble.

I begin to walk over and scoop up the cookie cat and Lo! Jojo begins his puppy routine all over again. Following at my side, head slightly lowered, giving me 'the look.' He nuzzles my hand, nuzzles the cat as I pick his complacent ass up out of the dirt and then blows his butterflies to tell me how silly he feels.

'Yeah, Punkin Pie,' I say as I escort Mr. Oreo outside the fence. 'I'd feel like a doofus, too.' He agrees, I remount and we have no other problems that day.

We had no arguments over the nickname, although people laugh at me when I walk into the barn and calL out 'PUNKIN PIIIIEEEE'. Do you think it's bad for his self esteem? Do the other horses laugh at him, I wonder? Eh, he seems to get along well and I mean look at him! Isn't he the exact color of pumpkin pie?

Monday, September 20, 2010

Throw Me A Bone...


It was a hot day in September when I met a horse I never knew existed and therefore had never desired to ride.
I guess a little background would be helpful.
I'm 30 years old (Shut up!), the mother of a wonderful if a little asinine 13 year old girl, I had just bought my first home and everything in my future was laid out for me, clear as silk. A great job, a house, a wonderful, healthy family. But, somehow, with the purchase of the house a pall had seemed to settle over my days. I wasn't depressed exactly, but I wasn't excited either. Very strange for me, being bipolar as I am. :)
Nothing seemed quite... right. I don't know where this case of the blues came from or why and over the next few months I tried everything from vitamin supplements to new exercise routines to clear the smog from my head, but nothing was working. I was lacking motivation to do anything personal.
I spent my days at work and my nights practicing my MMA moves with my rambunctious child. I went to sleep every night feeling content, but not complete. I woke looking forward only to my work & my daughter. Not such a bad way to be, I love my kiddo more than anything, but as far as my own identity... it had gotten lost somewhere in the move.
My boyfriend, trying to pull me out of the doldrums decided to take me trail riding to break the monotony. He knew of my passion for horses and thought if anything would cheer me up, that would be it.
I had owned my own horses until I was 17, when a family rift caused a problem with me being able to get out there as much as I would have liked. I received the news in a phone call that not one, but both of my horses, Penny & Joker had been put down.
That year I threw myself into my work, which, as it was, was taking care of problem horses for rich people who didn't have the time.
Later that year I had an accident which resulted in a debilitating head injury(Not horse related!) that took me away from everything that I loved. When I got back on my feet, learned to talk and think straight again, I had developed severe social anxieties. I was assured that this was normal for my type of injury and that if I worked through it, it would pass.
I went back to work with my horsies after a year of therapy. And there I found my true salvation. The horses gave me something that no doctor, no prescription could give. It got so that the only place I could truly function was at the farm.
I had developed a stutter from the accident. It came and went, being much worse when I was nervous. A friend pointed out to me one day that I never stuttered when I was talking to a horse.
Thus created my cross ways mind trick to cure the stutter completely, but that's another post for another time. The only time I felt truly comfortable was when I was working with a horse. This was the only time I didn't have to use mind cues and color tricks to think around what I was saying or trying to do.
My daughter was first introduced to horses at 9 months old and as soon as she could walk she was tottling around the barn beside me, clucking the horses and hugging their legs. Tough as she grew older I had to put what I wanted on the back burner for what she needed. Don't get me wrong, this I do not regret in the slightest, as I have almost raised a well rounded, if slightly maniacal individual who is a great inspiration to me every day. But, sadly, the horses had to go. The work was great, fun & rewarding, the money was GREAT, but not steady. I could sometimes go 6 or 8 weeks without having any horses that needed work & I'll tell you, cleaning stalls just doesn't pay as much as it should.
So, I grew up. I saddled my last horse in September of 2002. Funny how I can remember that, yet some days I still forget my boyfriends phone number. Whatever.
So, this trail riding trip, to rid the blues, remember?
We went, we saw, we conquered. For an hour. What I don't think he understood at the time, or may never understand, is that he didn't have to shell out the $80.00 or so to go trail riding. I was content just to be there. To see, to smell, to feel. Soft lips on my palm, horse saliva in my hair, yeah, it's heaven.
I rode a gentle, if uncooperative horse named Frosty. I had the time of my life, just being near him (Frosty) never mind the riding part. The problem was, of course, that after an hour, it was over. I was no one again. Frosty went on to lead someone else through the trails and my touch, my scent, my voice, were all but forgotten.
Yeah, talk about the blues times 10!
I went home, happy, but sad as well. It was a learning experience.
Over the next couple of weeks I threw myself into reading articles, looking at pictures, even going on petfinder.com to pick out which horse I would own someday. It was a futile effort & all it did was remind me of what I could NOT have, probably not in the foreseeable future. I had just bought a house, remember. I have a great job, but it doesn't pay enough to own a house AND a horse. :(
Then I stumbled across an ad that stated this particular horse was for sale or lease. Lease? DUH! I had never even THOUGHT of that. I gave it a couple of days to sink in, wondering if this was what I truly wanted and decided that even if it wasn't I could make a few phone calls, right?
So, for about a week I made phone calls, took notes, averaged my bank balance to see what I could afford.
I'm not gonna lie, it was looking pretty hopeless there for awhile. One person I talked to said it would be $520 a month, that included the lessons that were necessary if I wanted to lease their horse. Lessons? Me? No, Thank you.
There were a few prospects, one would have been $240, including the lessons. Lessons! But, I understood, who wants to trust their horse with just anyone? I wouldn't! And the price included up to three days a week. I wasn't sure if I wanted a limit on my riding time.
I went out to meet this last person & their horse who was a 19 year old Appy Princess. She was beautiful and charming and huge and I fell in love instantly. But as I was driving out to see her I received a phone call from one other woman who was interested in leasing her horse. I decided I would wait and check out the other horse as well, see where it took me, couldn't hurt, right?
So, I told the woman I had one more horse to check out and that I would get back with her. She was great about the whole thing. I explained about my head injury and how I wanted to get back into riding, even though people still make me nervous, I didn't stutter at all. <3>