Brave Heart

It's official: I'm getting a horse! This is Life Goal Number One for me, and I'm finally accomplishing it. His name is Brave Heart; I plan on calling him "Willie," after William Wallace, the real Brave Heart. He's AMHA reg, and isn't even a yearling, which is fantastic for me as a trainer. He should mature to be around 31 inches tall with perfect conformation. He'll be new "breed standard" blood on PEI, and to top it all off, he is not related to any minis on the island.


Unlike with Cheyenne, who I had minimal contact with until 2008, I'll be able to start this guy young. I expect him to respect boundaries, turn to the left first, walk, trot, and back up before we start anything really intensive. No jumping until he's three, no cart until he's two and a half, and no breeding until he's three. This will give him time to grow and mature until he is physically and mentally capable of accomplishing these things. We'll be turning him out with the rest of the herd until he's one, and then we'll separate him and put him with Monty. I am so very excited; I have many hopes and dreams for this little guy, and I'm confident he can live up to them.

I shall call him Willie and he shall be mine and he shall be my Willie.

Summer 2010, in short

Well, I had a fantastic summer here on PEI. I competed in six miniature horse shows with the horses I trained myself. Over the course of the summer, Montana and Cheyenne have taken home one 6th, two 5ths, six 4ths, three 3rds, eight 2nds, thirteen 1sts, and a Reserve Champ. This is the second year I have ever competed in any horse shows, with very tough competition to boot (come of these kids have been showing since they were two!). Hopefully, I'll have two horses trained and ready to compete in driving classes for next summer! The best part of showing for me is training the horse, and showing it yourself; that way, even if you don't place, you have the satisfaction of knowing that your horse did a good job, and is gaining experience. ...Of course, building a good reputation helps, too. :)

As far as riding goes, I'm still riding Dama, the Icelandic horse. We have progressed very far in the short year that I've been riding her. She's gone from not understanding leg cues to me being able to steer her with minimal leg and rein pressure. She backs up willingly, moves forward without balking, and will even go for rides outside of the the field (BIG change, let me tell you!). She is attentive, and no longer looks peeved at being saddled. I am just very happy with her overall. I do miss horses with a large stride though (AJ)!

Also this summer, I went to vet camp at the Atlantic Veterinary College. It was a lot of fun, and very very interesting. We got to dissect pig hearts, watch a necropsy done on a calf, and work on some bacteriology and parasitology labs, among other neat things. Also, a few kids fainted, so I guess not everyone was having as good a time as I was. Oh, well.

Hosses, pt.2

Continuing on...

Every two years or so, Mom would buy me a pair of riding boots. I believe this was a compromise or maybe an apology on her part for not being able to have me take riding lessons or have a horse of my own. I had two pairs of brown Miller riding boots, size 4. I would wear them when I would play with Sal or ClipClop, or on the rare occasion of actually having horse-time, such as the Camp Runels horse camp I went to two years in a row. We bought them at the local tack shop in Pelham. Whilst I wandered around the tack shop one day, Mom struck up a conversation with the girl at the counter. When we finally got into the car to drive home, I was told that I would be going riding. The girl at the counter was named Jainey, and she had a buckskin mustang named Topaz*. She was going to let me see Topaz and ride for real! We arrived at the barn in the dark, cold, and snow. I think Mom was freezing, but I was having a ball. Jainey and I tacked up Topaz, and I had my first ride in the snow on a "wild" mustang. It was terrific, even if it was just walk-trot for a half hour. We went to go see him just one other time, a few years later, at a different barn. As you all probably suspect, I had a fantastic time once again.
In the third grade, a co-worker of Dad's named Jeri invited me over to see her horses. She had three, in a little barn in her backyard. I got to ride her big old bay named Charlie. It was a lot of fun riding around in the small shady paddock. Soon after, I did a science project on horses (surprise surprise). For my presentation, I asked Jeri if I could borrow one of her saddles, and she promptly complied. I had an awesome, original, interactive** presentation; everyone else's projects were the typical vinegar and baking soda volcanoes. For many years, I tried to return the saddle to her, but she would just send it back saying "You can give it back once you've used it." I had Dad bring it to work over and over and over again, but she sent it back every time. Finally, after having kept the saddle for over six years, she told me to keep it. It was my first real piece of tack.

to be continued...



*"Wow a real wild mustang!"
** Kids could sit in the saddle or play with my model horses that I brought. Or, if you were really prepared to be bored, you could have me recite the entire muscle and skeletal system of a horse by heart. In case you were wondering, I am a horse nerd.

Hosses, pt.1

I am a very fortunate person. Even when things go wrong, something is always going right. Since I moved to PEI, everything has been moving according to a plan that I've had since I was very young. New things, even, have been worming their way into this plot line. For instance, I've always wanted to move to PEI (check), have horses to work with and build my equine reputation (check), graduate early (in progress), and work with a large animal vet (next year).

Before we continue any further, you'd best be warned that this is going to be a looonngg story, mostly about horses. Ready? Okay.

When I was really little, I always wanted a horse. Not a pony, a big horse! I had a rocking horse, who I named Sal. She was my mom's rocking horse when she was a little girl, and you could tell that she had been loved very much, as she was missing large patches of her velvet coat. I made up all sorts of adventures with this rocking horse, including cattle roundups and the Kentucky Derby. Sal was my gal. I still have her today, up in my room with a big duct-tape patch on her back, which had been worn down to the straw from so many long hours in the saddle. After a few years, there was a new arrival: a spring horse, who I promptly named ClipClop, after my favorite video ever. I think he was supposed to be Kathryn's or Aaron's horse, but that was no deterrent for a horse-loving little girl. I spent hours on that thing, bouncing around at a gallop.
There was, of course, an enabler for this addiction. Her name was Auntie Mal. My cousin Kerry took riding lessons, so every now and then, I would get a trip to the tack shop where I could buy a brush, or maybe a stuffed horse to play with. Those trips were the best.* One time, they took me for a short riding lesson with Kerry's teacher, Jill. That was a blast, and I was not afraid to let people know it.** After that, I was especially keen to go for pony rides when ever I could, eventually moving up to trail rides on dead-sided horses. I lived for those days! Every summer when we would go to PEI (thanks Harvey!), I would get a pony/trail ride, which would only make my excellent stay better. I was ready to stick my foot in the door of the horse world. Maybe.

to be continued...


*I still get at least one of these trips per year, but now it's for things like grooming supplies, treats, and tack.
**Auntie Mal still loves to tell me how funny it was when I yelled from the saddle "I'M THE BEST RIDER IN THE WORLD!"

*bonus*
-Mom used to dress me up as a cowgirl.
-All of my pictures as a little kid show me wearing cowgirl clothing or playing with horses.
-It was all thanks to Harvey that we ever went to PEI in the first place.