My horse history: growing up pony-less

I have wanted horses my whole life. My mother dismissed the idea right away and never gave it a second thought ("Horses are too expensive"). Of course she never even looked into riding lessons for me, or any of the millions of options I now know are available as a horse owner. I think I'd love to have a child come hang out and help me with my ponies in exchange for some ride time (with permission of the parents, signed waiver, helmet--all the good stuff, of course). So I grew up with only a handful of tiny plastic horses and a larger (cheap) plastic model. I don't remember what happened to that model, I think it is still at my parents's house though. It was a grey appaloosa gelding with a blanket, I think. I have a horrible memory for details...

My first "horse adventure" occurred when I was four or five years old (I had the passion even then!). We lived on an acreage in a small subdivision in Wisconsin. I knew from going on trips to town that there was a horse farm down the road and up a big hill from our house. I had no concept of distance, I just knew it was close and I wanted to see the horses. I was determined to ride my tricycle to the farm. The road at the end of our subdivision was very busy with high traffic. That didn't phase me, I was on a mission! I can't remember how everything went down, I just remember getting tired trying to peddle up that big hill and finding broken glass along the side of the road. I never made it to the farm.

We did have neighbors down the road with very nice Quarter Horses (we lived on a small acreage in the country). The son was a year ahead of me in school, and the daughter was several years behind. They stood a beautiful palomino stallion and had a small herd of show stock. I don't know when, but my parents talked to the people who owned all of these lovely horses, and I was told I could stop by to visit anytime. I was really too shy, and I think I was afraid that the son would look down on me for being a poor girl desperately wanting her own horse. I went over a couple times and just petted some of the horses. I was too nervous to ask if I could ride, and I felt very uncomfortable just hanging out and not doing anything. The horse owners did give me a small stack of old Quarter Horse Journals, which I pored over every night, gazing in wonder at the shiny images of well-groomed, impeccably turned out halter horses. I knew nothing about breeding, but I did notice that a certain stallion was advertised in almost every journal as well as being listed as the sire of many of the other horses advertised. His name was Mr Conclusion.

Aside from my excursions to visit the farm down the road (not very often because I was too shy), I was not around horses much in my childhood. I did my best to become acquainted with every horse within bicycling distance of my house. I would go "around the block" with my next younger brother and stop by a house a few miles away with an old grey Arab living alone in a small, muddy turnout. He was a gentle boy, if dirty, and we never met his people. He came right up to the fence and allowed us to pet his soft muzzle.

I think I only rode a horse twice as a youngster. The first time was when we sitll lived in Tennessee and our neighbor had a mare named Bay Lady with a black and white pinto colt, Buddydugan. He was an older man with a granddaughter a few years older than me. One day he invited us over and led us around on Bay Lady. The kid across the road, who was in my class, got a pony and we'd climb on the poor thing double, but I don't count that because no matter how much we kicked him, that pony wouldn't budge. That's not really riding! But I digress--the second time I rode a horse was when one of my aunts still lived close to us in Indiana (about an hour away). She had an Appaloosa gelding that she had raised from a foal. He was HUGE to a young fourth grader (just over 16hh I think). He also was a biter, so I was a little afraid of him. My parents allowed me to stay with my aunt one weekend, and she longed me on her big gelding. He walked and trotted a little, and then my ride was over. That was the extent of my riding experience prior to my senior year of college.