I have always loved horses and practically grew up at the racetrack, either Bay Medows or Del Mar. My Dad would wake my sister and I up at 3 in the morning to make the drive out there and get to watch the early morning workouts, play all day in they hay in the barn chasing the barn cats, and watch as our horses race in the afternoons and evenings. Sometimes we would go to breakfast at our favorite hole-in-the-wall place for breakfast, sometimes Dad would wake us up only to suprise us with a trip to Tahoe to go skiiing, and later on down the road, we'd get up early to go roast coffee beans at his shop(Starbucks will forever be a sub-par coffee to me). One day, though, Dad put is foot down. "You are no longer allowed to wear dresses to the racetrack! You will wear jeans and boots or you will not go at all!" So he went and bought me jeans and boots, turning me from the track's girlie-girl and providing me with the nickname "Ellie Mae" which, angered me at the time because I had no idea who this "Ellie Mae" person was. Some of my first rides ever included me being hand led around the barn, bareback, on stallions whose worth I still in my mind cannot fathom.
Then there was the ranch. My Mom's family was from Montana by way of Wisconsin, and when we'd go up to visit her side of the family, one Aunt and Uncle in particular lived on a 30,000 acre cattle ranch on the Crazy Mountains, and I was in heaven. My first "real" ride that I can remember was on a pluggy buckskin gelding named "Spider". Two of my cousins and I decided to go out for a ride, and what ensued was a day of galloping about, having a joyous time! Spider also took me on cattle drives, riding around in an arena, and over a cliff...ok it was only four feet high but it seemed like a cliff!
A few years after my Dad died, my Mom and Step-Dad decided to move from our little suburb to a little 5 acre lot owned by a couple who, along with their children, were obsessed with the Tevis Cup. The Tevis Cup, if you don't know already, is a 100-mile, 1-day horse race from Tahoe, California to Auburn, California. They had an amazing barn with pastures and a round corral. I started salivating the moment I first saw the property. I HAD to have a horse, and I would do whatever it took to prove that I could handle one.
My parents enlisted our neighbor, Terri, to teach me responsibility and about horses. I would clean her pastures and in turn, she would teach me about horsemanship as she said, "the right way". I didn't have enough experience doing things the "normal" way, all I knew was kick to go, pull to whoa. So it didn't really phase me when Terri enlisted Sinaloa, her 26 year-old Arabian/Quarter Horse, to teach my the 7 games that horses play. I fumbled with her long ropes, tied my halter the wrong way and frequently tripped over my carrot stick. Terri would explain to me why I was doing the things that I was doing and what the results would be. Terri also took me to tack stores, clinics, and shows and would educate me on why OTHER people did things that they did and what results they got. I became well versed in the theories of "natural vs normal", I learned the principles of horsemanship, I learned about different types of tack, hay/grains/supplements, and horse care in general. Terri eventually trusted me enough to play with Sinny on my own and let me borrow her Parelli Levels Packs, Savvy Club DVDs, and essentially her whole library of horsemanship books and videos. I couldn't get enough! Terri taught me about horsemanship, she taught me how to be a better me, she introduced me to David Lichman and Karen Rohlf and Sarah Konst, and so many other horseman that I admire. She took lessons from Honza Blaha and took me trail riding, to savvy playdates and is the reason that I am the person I am today. I owe a lot to her.
It would be wrong of my to write a blog, let alone my first ever blog, about George without paying tribute to Stewie. When Terri started helping me look for a horse of my own, she told me to write a list, a very specific list, of everything that I am looking for in a horse. Stewie ended up being that horse. An adorable tri-colored 4 year old paint gelding, he was my match. He had been severely neglected when he came home to live with me, his feet were about 6 inches too long with shoes on, if that conjures any mental images as to his situation. He had been given 30 days of reining training as a yearling, then left, until he came to me, about 200 lbs underweight with ulcers. Stewie was my world, a left-brained introvert that just wanted to be with me. He didn't care much about food, or other horses, he just wanted to spend time with me. He and I went the Parelli Level 4 on the ground before I ever got on him, and we were riding everywhere in no time! When I couldn't find a ride to the trails, I'd put on my neon-orange safety vest and ride through town to the trail head. Stewie and I were unstoppable, we won savvy tournaments, were always the pair that people wanted to be the first in line on a trail ride, and our relationship made other people jealous. He'd lay down with me in the pasture and back into Terri's step up trailer if I asked him. He would do anything I asked him, as long as we were doing it together.
Then when I was 19, I had a crisis of confidence. I had been going down a bad path, as many teenage girls at that age, trading my time with horses for time with "that guy I'm gonna spend the rest of my life with". I had graduated high school at 16. And although I was accepted both the University of Montana Western and into the Natural Horsemanship program, my parents assured me that there was no way in hell they were letting me go to Montana alone with my horse. So instead I worked three jobs, went to community college full time, and the only time I saw Stewie was at morning and evening feedings. I got horribly burnt out, and I decided to join the Army. I needed a change, I needed to be away from all that was familiar, I needed a job I couldn't quit and I needed to be away from my parents! It wasn't an easy decision, and I had to wait around for a good six months before a job as a Medic became available. The hardest decision in my life was to sell Stewie, for far less then I had bought him for, no less. Luckily, I found the perfect home for him, with a wonderful older woman that I've recently gotten back in touch with. She has been doing Parelli with him, and her granddaughter rides him and plays with him as well. She has let me know, on more than one occaision, that her barn is always open if I wanted to come ride him, and that if ever she decided to sell him she'd come to me first, with the same price she paid. And although that would be the DREAM for me, to own George and Stewie, two vastly different super-horses, her other riding horse recently passed away and Stewie (now known as Coty) has helped her get through it. I can only pray that one day she will find another partner that suits her better, but I would never pressure someone to get rid of the most wonderful horse I've ever known.
I don't plan on staying in the military, although I love it, I need to persue other roads in life. I love working in the medical field and would love to obtain my nursing degree. However, my dream since I was 15 years old has been to oneday be a Parelli Professional(and I know I can do both). What I would like more than anything else, is to be a PP, and also to work with Wounded Warriors. Wounded Warriors are soldiers that have been either physically or mentally disabled during the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. I have a lot of friends that suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I've seen the havoc it reaps. I've also seen what wonderful things horseback riding has done for other disabled people; ie children with Autism or Down Syndrome, adults with amputations or loss of use in their limbs. Since my husband has every intention of staying the Army for life, my goal is to become a PP, so no matter where we are stationed as a couple, I can teach and spread the word of Parelli Natural Horsemanship, and bring the healing power of horses to Wounded Warriors as well. I feel this would truly embody my calling of making the world a better place for horses and humans!
So that's most of my story! This blog will catalog my journey with my new super-horse, George, and I can't wait to see where the journey will lead us!
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