Friday, January 7, 2011


Saxony floated today.

I took a good, good friend to meet her this afternoon. We brought her into the barn for a once over. I picked out her feet and brushed away what little dirt she'd collected. For a horse who is outside as much as she is, unblanketed, munching hay all day and many nights in a large dry lot, she stays remarkably clean.

While I worked on her, she mugged shamelessly for treats from my friend. Someone gave me a bag of Gold Label German Horse Muffins for Christmas, and Saxony has lost her mind over the rich concoction of molasses, oats, sugar, beet pulp and who knows what else packed into the dark, dense muffins.

Though the cold was snapping at us, I decided to put Saxony on the longe line in the riding ring. The footing was packed hard under shallow snow and the ground was level. Saxony was ready to play. I sent her out on the end of the line, letting her set the pace, encouraging her to find her footing. Steps into the trot, she bucked and squealed, reared and twisted. I so wanted to let her go, but the fencing around the ring is too low to be sure of. I wouldn't want her to sail over it in an exuberant moment. 

And that's the word for it. She was exuberant today, snorting and prancing, high-tailing and peanut-rolling. Heading into one of the corners of the square riding ring, she lifted into a floating trot, beautifully rounded, natural and forward. "Wow," I heard from behind me. At first I thought it was an echo; it could have been, because I had thought it myself.

So, squeal. She squealed and I squealed. I realized in that moment how much I've worried about Saxony's diagnosis of arthritis, like it was the end of the world. But there's a horse under there, not just another problem. She was there, floating easily and happily through the bend. I caught myself in the act of making problems where they don't need to be by making them bigger than they are. We aren't destined for the Olympics, we're just destined for each other. I really enjoyed watching her playful antics for the rest of 10 little minutes on the longe line.

Afterward, we loaded her with muffins and turned her out. Leaving, I looked back and blew her a kiss. Somehow it was easy to imagine she returned the gesture.


Katie said...

Oh how I would have loved to see her! She must have looked beautiful... glad you got to see her in her own moment and enjoying life!

Annette said...

I love your statement: "We aren't destined for the Olympics. We're destined for each other." I think that sums it up perfectly.

horsemom said...

too cute:)