Years ago, I knew of, a woman who saddled up her beloved horse and took him into an outdoor riding arena to enjoy the afternoon. After riding him like a pro, through the paces of a trot and canter, she brought him to a walk and cooled her horse down by walking him along the arena’s rail. Eventually she brought her horse to a complete halt so they both could rest while taking in the beautiful day.
An hour or two later, people began to notice that her horse hadn’t moved, nor had the women. Concerned, a few of her fellow barn mates hurried down to the arena to check on her and found that she had quietly passed away, astride her horse, in the embrace of an extraordinary day. I personally believe that all of the beloved horses from her past, horses that she had diligently cared for and ridden, until they pierced her heart by passing into the grazing pastures of heaven, were waiting for her when she crossed over.
For me, and many of my equestrian friends there couldn’t be a more perfect way to end our time on this earth! To simply slip away peaceful while sitting on your horse! From the time I heard this true story, I prayed that my passing would be the same. But as fate would have it, that will not be the case.
My first experience with having to give up horseback riding happened one year and three months marking my recouperation from an extremely serious back surgery called a laminectomy to correct rapidly debilitating scoliosis. I underwent an eight-hour procedure, where portions of my spine were removed in order to straighten it.
For years I refused to have this surgery because of the lengthy healing process, which I was told would keep me away from my horses for a good six months and out of the saddle for a year. Prior to having this surgery, I researched other riders who had gone through the same procedure and blogged about their recoveries. One Competitive Eventer was able to start training a year later and in just six months she had achieved her previous daily training goals for distance riding. Piece of cake, I thought!
However, one year later to the day, I mounted my horse Starlight, to discover that I could walk her, but riding a trot was absolutely excruciating! I didn’t expect this, and it threw me for a loop. My entire recovery process had centered around the goal of getting back into the saddle. After all, a year had passed.
I am a woman who is well conditioned in tolerating extremely high levels of pain. Pain, particularly when it’s chronic, is something you grow a tolerance to. For me, this process of adapting began when I was two years old and undertaking classical ballet training. I danced for the first quarter of my life, but during my tender years, my training resulted in problems with my feet, and a hip joint that was pulled out of its socket and grew that way.
Horse related accidents have contributed greatly to my ability to tolerate pain. Broken fingers, toes, ribs and a particularly nasty accident I had on my horse Janie that broke my sacroiliac joint in two. The break wasn’t misplaced, so the radiologist didn’t catch it on the x-ray. For two years I rode adjusting my position because I was in so much pain. I blamed the pain on a recent hip replacement; I wasn’t surprised when three years later an MRI revealed that the sacroiliac joint had not healed and was still broken in two.
After my back surgery, I was determined to persevere with my recovery, so I continued to ride Starlight but only at a walk. Although this beautiful mare didn’t understand why I insisted on only walking, she submitted to my insistence. Starlight had an inbred spirit that drew me to her in the first place. For years she competed as a Reiner and was exceptionally talented. She spined on a dime, which was pure fun to ride. Her coat was a beautiful, dappled gray and we adored each other.
Following my laminectomy, Star and I walked the entire grounds surrounding our stable, until one day, I made a stupid decision which resulted in my falling off. There have been many occasions in my life where I have been my worst enemy, this was one of them. The fall broke my glenohumeral or shoulder joint, in two. Again, I was facing a lengthy recovery and had to give up riding.
During this period, a series of events were taken place at the sweet little stable where I boarded my horses. My friend Tommy, who had stepped into his father’s shoes and run the stable for thirty plus years, retired. Our board of directors brought in and supported a new manager and her husband and almost instantly, the conditions and safety aspects took a downward spiral. Horses were being deliberately injured and although some of these incidents were caught on video, from cameras installed in our stalls, no one was held accountable. And that was the least of our worries!
I had found good homes for my horses Dude and Starlight. So on June 6th, Roo and I left this facility along with almost half or more of the boarders, to settle at the amazing stable where I am now. From the moment I stepped into this stress-free pleasant stable, equipped with everything a serious horse lover and performance equestrian need, I felt a newfound freedom that drastically contrasted with the downfall of the other place. Some of my friends were already at the new stable when I arrived and over the passage of the past year, almost all of my friends from the other facility have joined us!
My new stable has excellent trainers in both western and eastern disciplines. I immediately began to take lessons with my friend and trainer, Liz, riding her outstanding and bullet proof horse, Papaya. It was exhilarating, particularly on the first morning we went for a trail ride.
Our stable has over 130 acers of rideable trails that I was sure I would never see. On occasions I led Roo on walks to explore some of them, but walking Roo, was nothing compared to riding those trails, crossing through the meadows, stone covered river, taking slopes up and down, and exploring the wooded areas. After that ride, I felt alive! I began to lease Fly Guy in mid-September and was riding him regularly. And then unexpectedly, Roo died. For the first time in decades, I didn’t own a horse! I’m still struggling with that reality.