He Paws Fiercely Rejoicing in His Strength ...
I have a LOT to talk about. I'm going to do the best I can to try and get it all done in the time that I have time to kill. I am in the limbo of waiting for my license before I can actually be gainfully employed. Soon enough it will happen. In the meantime, I have a chance to spend some quality time at home before my destiny takes me away.
A big blessing in being home is being able to spend some quality time with my horses. We had settled into a nice routine of giving Scotch her Equine Senior (something she loves beyond description) with her medication mixed in. Once she was done with that, we would usually head down to the barn itself and spend time with Stormy. Thursday was a little different. She was scheduled to get her shot for her arthritis, so we were out there to clean her off and be there when she got it. That has routinely been something that is done by Mom by herself since I was almost always away at college when it happened. It turned out that the vet couldn't make it and had to reschedule. It was a warm and sunny day compared with what we have had before. Because of the higher temperatures and the absence of any wind, the gnats were horrendous. That's pretty typically, usually the early summer we see a lot of rain and then, during the brief dry spells, they are out like crazy. With the vet a no-show, we decided to come out later and give her a bath when we did to clean off some of the mud.
Scotch has never been a horse that was particularly fond of baths and tonight was no exception. She was dancing around in the washrack and snorting pretty much the whole time. She was certainly happy with what came next, which was going out and grazing a little while she dried off. We also did some walking in the barn. Stormy looked up as we went by; this was a sight he's not used to seeing and hasn't been for almost a decade. Scotch declined to even look his way and I knew better than to force the issue. The we went by Spellcaster, the last remaining stallion in the barn. He normally wickers at pretty much any horse that goes by, including Stormy (which is wrong on so many levels, not the least of which being that Stormy is his son, maybe even the first foal he had). He wickered at Scotch when she went by. That drew an immediate whinny from Scotch. Bear in mind this is a 29 year old mare, which is the equivalent of a 70 year old human.
As I was taking her back to her pen, I felt something I haven't felt in a long time. Anyone who's been with horses can tell you when a horse is feeling frisky; you can feel the muscles coiling up like a spring. I've felt that on a regular basis with Scotch throughout the years. That was the first time I've felt that in a long time. So I thought, "let's see what she's got." I started to jog, no clicking to cue her. I never needed to and didn't today. She immediately took to the job, head up and nostrils flared. It was like I had a four year old filly instead of a 29 year old. I could almost close my eyes and go back in time to 2001; the only difference of course is that I wasn't riding her.
Back in the winter, we saw the movie Secretariat when it came to the lower priced theater and when I had a day where we could do it. At the part of the Belmont Stakes scene where he made the surge that went beyond winning and made him a legend, there were tears welling up. It was more than just a response to what I was seeing. It was a moment that took me back to a great moment in my life.
August 13, 1999 was a typically South Dakota summer day. Warm, no wind, it was actually a very gorgeous day, as good as somebody could ask for. It was my routine to go outside and ride on the gravel roads that went around the barn. Scotch was always a horse for the open trail and this was as close as I could come to that without leaving the barn. I don't know what made me decide to do this and I don't remember if it was a conscious decision or spur of the moment (no pun intended, I never use spurs), but I was coming around the turn towards the longest stretch of straight road that ran along the one pasture just past the machine shed and before the house that has been used by trainers and other people living on the grounds. As I was getting into the straight area, same as the other night, I said "let's see what she's got." And same as the other day, I didn't have to ask twice.
It was probably not much more than the length of a football field, so it was no more than a few seconds. But for those few seconds, I found out what Scotch's gallop was like for the very first time. It was an experience I will never forget. This is the moment that the jockeys and other professional riders live for; flying four feet off the ground is the only description that gives it justice. And I don't even know if she gave it everything she had, but it was a thrill I will never forget.
Nine days later I tried it again. This time the thrill of speed was cut off by a sudden attempt to make a 90 degree turn that saw me unseated. I broke my collarbone, the only injury I've ever sustained in the saddle. Once it healed, I never took her to that limit again, and it was a mere two and a half years later her arthritis had gotten so bad, that I made the decision to retire her. Nearly ten years later here I sit, the saddle I rode Scotch with so many times just a few feet away from me. Since that February day in 2002 that I decided to retire her, it has not been used.
Even with the glory and accolades of graduation and getting a job, I have to look back and say the apex moment of my life were those few seconds on the edge that August day. As I get set to begin my life anew elsewhere, I have taken stock of what was and what is and speculated at what might be. I may not find the perfect storm of spirit, steadiness, and intelligence that I had in Scotch, but there is no joy to be found with that saddle sitting unused a few feet from me. Life belongs to those who dare to live it; now that the road ahead of me is open, its time for me to settle in, point myself towards the horizon, and say "let's see what he's got."