A year in my life, from the day I was diagnosed and for the full year after. Walk with me.

Friday, July 29, 2011

Day 118 Horse Crazy

Yesterday, for the first time since my (first) surgery I tacked up a horse and I rode.  Granted, she is an old mare, with some age related lameness in her rear legs but she's a steady Eddie pro and a safe bet for my first mount.  I had a lesson under my dear friend who tormented my legs with all sorts of two point exercises and short bursts of trot.

My husband had puppies when I told him I was going to take my first lesson.  He has been my caretaker and closest friend through all of this and has seen the depth of my weakness and knows how far I have to travel yet.  Still, my surgeon gave me his full release and there's a chance that, if I can ride again, I won't be so crazed and cranky.  Even with that behind me hubby was not happy, resigned yes, but definitely not happy.  To live with me you must accept the things you cannot change.

Since I was a girl I have been horse crazy.  Helping my friends take care of their horses in exchange for an occasional ride, paying for lessons, working like a slave in some fancy barns where I learned to fling poo, maintain tack, groom and listened to trainers talking about horses.  I read all horse books obsessively: My Friend Flicka, Misty of Chincotegue (the whole series), the Godolphin Arabian, the Black Stallion, horse encyclopedias and breed anthologies.  I have been kicked, stomped, run over, bitten and just generally roughed up by the objects of my affection with no derogatory effect.  I have kept that fire burning, optimistic that one day I would be a horse owner. 

Life gave me that opportunity at age 45, when I brought home Chrome, the most beautiful horse I and anyone else had ever seen.  This horse was a supermodel, splendid in every way except one:  he had an unsolvable respiratory issue and so back he went.  My second horse was Murphy, a Trekehner/Warmblood schoolmaster, but we didn't get along in the saddle, his movement was huge and I am quite little.  Incapable of generating equally measured movement.  I thought time and work would solve our issues but they didn't, and nearly three years later I donated him to a girls college equestrian team that I am very familiar with, and where I knew he would receive great care and affection.  I could not sell him to a stranger.

Which leads us to Dee, my little appaloosa mare.  She is coming along phenomenally well under her fabulous trainer and is gaining balance while making some baby steps toward collection.  Riding her is like climbing the Empire State building to me, but it is a goal I am working toward ever day I get a chance to ride another horse.  My poor husband would rather I just give up this foolishness, but I can't.  My love for this is an elemental part of who I am and when I ride, I link myself to a brave girl who caught the city bus to arrive at the barn(s) for 5:00 a.m. chores, taking another bus to High School with mud on her shoes, determined to survive another day of teenaged angst, and make her life into something of her own design.

My life has been a life of long term goals born in a wild heart.  I am not sure if it is the goals or the undomesticated nature of my heart that have made me so determined frankly, but whatever it is it has served me well because I am still going strong.  I wanted to live, then to live to ride my horse, and now just to ride my horse.

9 comments:

Greener Pastures--A City Girl Goes Country said...

The test worked! So it looks like I can comment again!

I've been following your journey. I am so happy that you beat it. And now you are riding. I'm sure that is partly why you are a survivor--because you are so tough and so passionate. I hope you have a million more rides.

By the way, I started out just like you--being a slave in someone's fancy barn, getting rides on my friends' ponies, all of that. It really makes you appreciate it when you finally get your own horse and your own farm. Did you read my story one story down from my newest one? I think you'll like it. How I brought my first pony home. Well, it's a little sad too because it's also about my mother. But the joy I had! And still have because of that day on July 4, 1976.

zenmama said...

Thanks for your support, I find it hard to believe I am on the other side of this thing. I feel like cancer is going to jump out from behind a door and scare me to death.

I was so surprised to find that you too were a "fancy barn slave" and itinerant pony borrower. This story can't be unique to us but I hear it rarely in the rural south. Your blog has filled me in on your wonderful house and land, a beautiful place. You are so creative to have made it so. I hope someday to have my own little farm, but for now my horse is boarded. It would be fabulous beyond words to have my pony in my own back yard.

Speaking of ponies, how WONDERFUL was your mother to let you keep a pony in your backyard. My mother would have had a hippo. I am sure you celebrate every day you had with her.

Barrel Racer Kelly said...

Feeling like cancer is going to jump out from behind a door. You are such a great writer! Do you write professionally?

Oh yeah, I was a slave. I used to take the school bus to the barn and all the rich kids would be acting snooty and not talking to me. Then I'd have to wait till whenever my mother could come and pick me up in the dark. Most of the time the barn owners didn't even let me ride but I didn't care. I just wanted to be around them!

Maybe you can get a pony in your yard someday! Did you notice the houses in the background of that picture of me and Cherokee? That yard was about 50 ft. by 100ft.! I was actually trying to find a picture of my mother sunbathing in that yard with my second horse, a full size Quarter horse believe it or not, grazing next to her! I have it somewhere but couldn't find it. Well, what do you expect? My mother was practically a kid herself. She was only 32 when I got Cherokee.

The first "farm" I bought with my husband was only an acre and three quarters and we kept the same four horses on it that we have now! If that inspires you...

Giddyupdragon said...

I noticed your blog on a blog I follow “Greener Pastures”. I tripped over her blog years ago and I have been reading it ever since because I enjoy her writing. Anyway I found we have some things in common and I just wanted to say hi. I live in WA State now, but grew up in Missouri along the Kansas boarder and spent my childhood obsessed with horses. I would beg, borrow, or steal any horse I could get my hands on. I still remember the spankings for the stealing part, but that really never did stop me, I was just more careful about not getting caught. My obsession never waived and I still spend all my free time at the barn. I have a 13 year old thoroughbred gelding that I have had since he was 3 years old. I also have a daughter with aspergers, who also has a primary immune deficiency. She is in her third year of college now, and I also have an “almost” neurotypical daughter  ( She had a rare brain tumor removed at 16, but is doing well and just finished her master’s degree despite some short term memory issues). My daughters are 22 and 24 years old. I was also diagnosed with breast cancer in 2007, stage 3, and went through dose dense chemo and radiation. Right after I finished treatments and recovered some, I then went back to school and got a degree in human services and I am now working at figuring out how to get certified as an equine assisted therapist, so I can work with youth at-risk utilizing equine assisted therapy. I truly believe in the power of “equineimity” for troubled youth! I continued working in the human services job that I have had the last 13 years (case manager for elderly, and mentally and physically challenged adult clients) during my treatments and during full time school, so I was not able to ride as much as I wanted to and I got so wimpy. Now that I graduated in June I am finally riding regularly again. I am just now getting my leg strength built back up and have started doing little jumps again. The chemo wreaked havoc on my joints, nerves and muscles, but I refuse to give up riding. I am not a great rider, never have had lessons (paid for my daughters’ lessons instead), but I manage to stay on most of the time. I keep my horse half leased out to a 4-H’er so he has had regular exercise and goes to the shows and fair still, which he loves. Now that my kids are grown and out of the house I am hoping I can finally take lessons myself and improve my riding, finally, at 50 years old :) Anyway I just wanted to say I have enjoyed reading your blog, congratulations on the good news from the oncologist, and hope you get all your strength back soon. Signed, a happy housekeeper, misssssserable cook.

Darwin said...

I can't find my comment!

So here it is again, my fluffy biscuit -- from our buddy, Gene Autry, a tribute to you:

"I'm back in the saddle again
Out where a friend is a friend
Where the longhorn cattle feed
On the lowly gypsum weed
Back in the saddle again

Ridin' the range once more
Totin' my old .44
Where you sleep out every night
And the only law is right
Back in the saddle again

Whoopi-ty-aye-oh
Rockin' to and fro
Back in the saddle again
Whoopi-ty-aye-yay
I go my way
Back in the saddle again

I'm back in the saddle again
Out where a friend is a friend
Where the longhorn cattle feed
On the lowly gypsum weed
Back in the saddle again

Ridin' the range once more
Totin' my old .44
Where you sleep out every night
And the only law is right
Back in the saddle again

Whoopi-ty-aye-oh
Rockin' to and fro
Back in the saddle again
Whoopi-ty-aye-yay
I go my way
Back in the saddle again"

zenmama said...

Wow, I believe the union of Ex-Barn Slaves has been birthed. How exciting to hear from undaunted girls like me. For some of us horse love is a spell that can't be broken.

Giddyupdragon, EFP and EFL (equine facilitated psychotherapy and equine assisted learning services) are newly popular and very exciting, you might start by finding a center to mentor you while you pursue your certification as an Equine Specialist. NARHA, now PATH has designated different certifications for those who work with mental health or learning issues, but I am not sure how different an Equine Specialist is from a Certified Instructor. I think this field is still being developed. We mentor and hold certification weekends at our facility but have not moved on to the Equine Specialist Certification yet. Do you have a facility in your area that has a successful EFP program?

Wow, that was wordy. I just get excited.

I am so glad to know you both are visiting my blog and thank you for your support and affirming words!

zenmama said...

Muffin, you're a mess girl. Thanks for the Autrey, I am now hearing them in my head...IN YOUR VOICE!

Grey Horse Matters said...

I believe your passion for horses and your struggle to regain your strength to ride are part of the reason why you are beating this thing. I'm sure someday you and Dee will be quite a team.

Greener Pastures--A City Girl Goes Country said...

That comment from Barrel Racer Kelly is really from me, Greener Pastures. I have NO IDEA why it came from my daughter's account! But at least I'm able to comment again!

Thank you Giddyupdragon for the compliment and I'm glad you come and read my stories!