We Had a Merry Ride

This entry will be only peripherally about Whisper. Possibly it’s been noticed that the entries have become fewer in the last couple of months. I’ve alluded to the cause in an earlier entry but the time has come to tell why.

When I was a child all I wanted was a horse. We lived in the city and (as I found out only recently) my parents seriously considered buying me one but just couldn’t afford it. As I got older other things took the place of that desire but I’ve always had a soft spot for horses and loved being around them. My mother took a hiking trip to Peru about 10 years ago. She was mid sixtyish at the time and said later it was the hardest thing she had ever done. But, there were three horses available to ride and she took advantage of that whenever no one really needed to ride. She came home and began taking riding lessons and – you can see where this is going - she bought Doc, a 7 year old paint gelding. And she had great fun with him. They went here and there and rode trails and forded streams and loped up hills and spooked at benches and hay bales. He would do something stupid, she would get dumped, and he would look at her as if to say “What are you doing down there? You belong on my back.” They were a team; a bonded pair.

When we knew I was moving out here she began to tell me about this mare that was boarded at the same stable as Doc. Her owner had died and she was for sale. Mom was afraid she would be sold to someone who didn’t appreciate her. She had personality and got along well with Doc and was not dull and boring. And best of all – she wasn't mare-ish. You can see where this is going – I bought Spice,  an opinionated, stubborn, redheaded mare - and if that's not mare-ish I don't know what is.

I moved out here two years ago and we spent a lot of time riding in the hills and on the rimrock. We didn’t need to tell the horses where to go. My mother would ‘yip-yip’ to Doc and we would take off at a lope up the hill. This actually became somewhat of a problem. When Spice hears that trademark cue she’s off. I just had to be ready for it. We went on the trail ride from hell which left Spice lame but she learned to go through water. We trained for an endurance ride which actually improved Spice’s disposition somewhat.

Mom thought fostering Whisper was a great idea. Spice has navicular syndrome and is an accident waiting to happen. She comes up lame periodically. Whisper would give me a horse to play with if Spice was incapacitated. From the time I brought him home Mom helped with him. She took him for walks and rubbed him and helped get him used to other people. She was there with him when he had surgery and walked his groggy butt to a stall afterward. She thought he was a great horse and deserving of this chance.

In April Mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. It didn’t change the way she did things. She and Doc still loped up that hill. She helped me with Whisper. She rode him before I did because I was afraid another chance wouldn’t come. And it didn’t. We did the Sheriff’s Posse poker ride at Skull Hollow on May 22. We won prizes and it was a great day. She died June 1st. And I hope she knows that when the time comes for Doc to join her I will be there to point him up the hill.

Phototography courtesy of Claudia J. Howell Photography http://www.claudiajhowell.com/