"Maybe you should buy him"

I looked at the little bay gelding standing there. He was so cute and just looked so sweet and innocent. Even a little sleepy.

"How old is he?"

"Well, let's see . . . he was born in 1994, so he is going to be 4 in a few months. You should buy him."

His sweet, sleepy face was just so kissable, but there was no way I could buy a horse. I was attending a Christian college on a combination of my dimes and whatever financial aid I was able to scare up each year. I was a sophomore, so looking at 2 more years of tuition payments and not a lot of good steady income. A horse was the last thing I could afford to buy. Yet I missed having horses around.

That was why I started hanging around Ms Saddlebred Breeder. She welcomed the assistance, and I welcomed the horses. They were close enough to my school that I could walk there, which was significant as I didn't have a car. I just walked over one day when she was out there and told her I just wanted to be around the horses. I would do anything, groom or pick poop or whatever. I didn't need to ride. I just wanted to breathe them in and sit and stare at them and groom. You horse nuts out there know exactly what I'm talking about.

I would walk out to the pasture and climb up on a roundbale and sit there for hours, learning their herd dynamics and just watching them play gelding games. I would go out after a hard day of finals and pick burrs out of their long gorgeous manes and tails and then groom them up to a beautiful shine. After those clubs of burrs were transformed back into Saddlebred tails, they would flag those tails and prance around, as if they knew how beautiful they were.

Sometimes, I would do a "scary walk" and turn them into fiery, snorting show horses, tails up over their backs and knees coming level with their chests as Ms Saddlebred Breeder frantically snapped photos or took video for sales.

Sometimes, I would pick up twine in the pasture, left over from roundbales and squares. Sometimes, I would shovel shavings into bags or help load horses in the trailer or sort and move horses from one group to the other. Sometimes we would clear brush or cut down those ever present and oh-so-nasty burdock plants, to be burned on a brushpile at the end of a long, hot day of work.

Once in awhile, I was a human sandbag, thrown up onto this or that 3 or 4 year old's back "just to see what he would do" with a rider, while Ms Saddlebred Breeder would lead the horse around, giving the calming influence to the young horse, and I stayed as quiet as I could. Surprisingly enough, it always went fine.

Once in a great while, when we weren't too busy, she would ask me if I wanted to saddle up and go for a ride.

And we would.

Seems like that's when all the really interesting stuff happened.

Like the time she and I went riding and I was on Breezy, Sammy's mom. She was a beautiful 3/4 Saddlebred, 1/4 Arab mare. Bay, greenbroke, snort and blow to spare. We set off out of the pasture and headed to the railroad bridge over the interstate. Her horse hesitated, but Breezy stepped out confidently and led the way across. She had never been out that way, but went along so well, I let my guard down and relaxed.

As we entered the city park, we went past bikers and joggers, and Breezy started to snort a little. Then Baron broke into a canter and Breezy did too. For 2 strides. Her head went down, her back humped up. She dodge right, I went left. She dodged left, I went right. Saddle horn to the left thigh and I was on the ground on my back before I knew what was happening. I sat up and Breezy was hightailing (literally) her beautiful self all the way back to the pasture. Ms Saddlebred Breeder turned around. Saw me on the ground, assessed the situation, and took off after her with Baron, calling over her shoulder, "I'll come back with the car."

I got up and started to walk toward the front of the park. Helpful joggers pointed me in the direction that Breezy had taken, I found myself wondering how they knew I was the one that belonged to the running horse. Shortly, Ms Saddlebred Breeder showed up with her car.

"I can't believe it," she exclaimed, "Somehow she knew enough to go back over that bridge. I thought for sure she'd have run across the 8 lane interstate. Good thing she didn't!" Man were her horses smart!

Those horses had the best upbringing, to my way of thinking. They were basically allowed to live in a natural herd setting. Stallion, mares, babies, and geldings running together. Learning things by testing them out. She would park her horse trailer in the pasture and from the time they were babies, they would just jump in the trailer. It was a safe place and they were allowed to venture in and out at will, so loading was never really a problem. Lead the horses up and walk in, and they almost always would just follow you.

So here I was, lots of horse time, but not one of my own. Which, as I said, was ok. A college student has no money and sometimes even less time. With no car, where would I have been able to take him for training? Where would I have boarded? As close as the city was all around her pasture, there was little room for riding and less for working a young horse. And what did I know about training?

So there I stood, staring at this cute 3-1/2 year old Saddlebred gelding.

"How much would you want for him?"

"You could work him off."

"How many hours would you want for him?"

"You know what? Just keep doing what you're doing. He's yours."
I was dumbfounded.

To be continued . . .