Horse Happy Pills and a Bottle of Bums Farm

I think I will bore you with why I “retired’ from being a barn manager. A majority of it is because I am 43 years old. I’m not old, but I am not young. And I started to feel old, disconnected. Lets be honest with ourselves. The real reason was the 15 hour days, the never ending travel living out of a bag, eating burritos in between manure scoops. Don’t even get me started on you working students and insane upper level riders. I love you. But you do realize your manager would like to take a shower while awake, and without alcohol? It didn’t help that I had only ridden my horse twice, in a year. A horse that was so perfect that I could ride him on a cold windy day in Pennsylvania and have someone surprise us by starting a chainsaw in the woods. Right next to us! He didn’t even flinch! No spook, no scoot, not even a tiny skedaddle. I came out of my skin, but he didn’t bat an eye. But after his year off, I got on him and he would lose his mind. Epic levels of unglued.

I spent the next 6 months on a stressed out jack hammer that would paw…No! Not paw. Strike at the ground and try to go to his knees and then just seesaw. I have never had to take so many calm down candies (anxiety meds) in my life! He would go where I wanted him to go,  through my legs and just riding it out. At least that is what I was telling myself. That’s right. He was going where I wanted to go. Yeah. OK. I 100% asked him take us straight through the 15 foot F@#$king corn field! Wouldn’t it be great if we had this new adventure we could experience together. There was ZERO contact, he would just rear, buck, rear, buck….Sideways! All of this happening and he would just let any contact he had on his bit go. Yes, I had the bit adjusted correctly. He was very light in the mouth anyways. But in this instance he would just let go!

Before what I say next, I’m just admitting, now, that I made myself a hypocrite when I tell you, I hate it when people change bits non stop (Yeah you know who you are) because that must be the problem. Couldn’t be you’re squeezing the horse so hard it can’t feel its ribs, and have the heaviest hands I have ever seen. Yes, yanking back and forth on his mouth will absolutely fix the problem. More eye rolls. Yes, I know not every horse can work with a snaffle. But when you have changed bits on the horse every other day… Well... Anyways. I will just leave that there. Had a catty moment, moving on. I tried EVERY Bit, nose bands, bridles. Hell, I changed every piece of tack, had 6, yes 6, vets out checking for Ulcers, pain, abscesses, even cancer. Everything. An Equine dentist that fixed his overbite…. That no other dentist had ever mentioned. Mind you, I was in an area that all my vets, farriers, and dentists would follow the show season down south, and it was not show season there. So I was using vets that were unfamiliar with my Rocket Donkey.

I am a solid rider. A confidant rider. I have been riding since I was 3 years old. Longer, if you count a grandmother and a lead rope holding onto you and a mad as a hatter, pony for dear life. The white pony. We all have an experience with a white pony. Those little demon seeds are always F$%king white. Do you know why ponies are such nasty little beasts? I’ll tell you! They are built so close to Hell the Devil has a constant hold on a hoof.

I have been an exercise rider since I was 12 years rider. I was the one they put on the bad lesson ponies. I had no fear. Even now, in my 40’s, I have very little fear. And I have had enough falls, cracked helmets, blown vests and broken bones to have fear. But on or near a horse, even after a very bad fall years ago (I’ll get into that at some point) I still feel a sense of calm I don’t get when I am on my own 2 feet. They can be launching from the mounting block, and acting like a total twat, but my mind immediately snaps to where I am and the next move. Its like when you take that big breath that releases 100 lbs off of your shoulders. I am a high energy, anxious person. I talk too much, too loud, overshare, and say what all you real classy equestrians are thinking, but would never say. But from the moment my foot goes in the stirrup, my mind and body click. I plug in to the horse, for lack of a better term. I can feel every part of where the horse and I are working together, or apart.

But not with my big dumb sweet gelding. A 1.45 jumper, that had been imported from Germany, whom loved to jump, and I never had to worry about the fact that I never could see my distance (What distance? What the F@#k is a distance? Distance from the spot where the fire breathing dragon beneath me, that just took the corner at Mock 80 WTF to those pretty colored poles, and neatly arranged flowers that are the materials for my funeral?!?!) Yes he was a speed demon, fire breathing, poked in the butt by a cattle prod dragon! But only when he knew he was being pointed at that jump. The second he locked eyes on the next jump his head would come up, backside squat down, dig in hard, every muscle go rigid, and he would grab that bit and go. The only time we had any contact was when he was taking it from me. This is going to piss some people off… I would just let it happen, after our 1st year together fighting it with trainers that just didn’t fit, and lesson moms telling me about this new bit, new gadget, new supplement, or how amazing some hack of a “horse” trainer was, and that could do wonders and teach my horse to respect me (Listen Linda, drop your kid off to their lesson and keep paddling to Palates class) My personal favorite “Have you tried giving him a couple of ace pills?”

Despite everything I just described, I trusted every 100mph step that horse made. He had the math. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. And now here we were. He had lost his mind, I was close to losing mine, and I was afraid of my horse. So what do I do? What every horse owner does! Put down more calming candies faster than the manufacturer can make them and cry in the shower with a bottle of the cheapest box wine I could find. It was not because I was cheap did I go for that particular kind of wine. It was just so late at night when I would finally get on my way home,  The liquor store was already closed, so I had to fight a homeless man behind the local strip mall for a bottle of boons farm that smelled very similar to piss…. Yeah, I think he pissed in it. Then walk around with a giant black cloud hanging over me, a hangover the size of...something very big, and possibly hepatitis from the “Bums Farm”. And complain repeatedly and loudly how much I hate horses

I thought I had lost that connection that gave me peace in my own head. The only place I had known as peace. I don’t usually vet hop, but I had every off season “Veterinarian” giving me cellulitis diagnosis’s. I wish I was kidding. I was a little desperate. Don’t judge me Judy. Again we go skipping back to story-land. With show season over, my favorite vet was finally back in the area. She casually says “He’s a little sore, but that is just from being so tense. He has anxiety. Probably from having to much time off, and being with a buddy too much (A horse that didn’t give a shit about having friends was now SO buddy dependent, he would scream our entire ride for his friend). You mean to tell me this entire time I could have been sharing my calm down candy with my horse?!?!?

So a few months of Horsey Happy pills for him, a short stint in a mental hospital for me (Kidding again. I didn’t go to a mental hospital. That time…) We just took some more time off, I know that seems redundant, right? But he got a little chemical help to re-balance, with a couple of weeks off to reset. We both needed it.

That 1st ride back….I got on with that sick feeling I had developed, since we both lost our mojo, expecting the worst. I got on him thinking we were going straight into launch mode. There was nothing. He stood there. We just walked around with only a small side jig here and there. Aside that he was his old self. Goofy head bobbing, looking around. Relaxed. Now the real test. Collect and ask for a trot. PERFECT!!! Well, not perfect. But he was back!!! I was Back!! Not 100%, But I could feel that old sense of the weight lift off my shoulders. Plugged in! It was by no means a perfect ride, but that day was a memory I will always have. We got back to the barn, and he stopped and just stood, waiting for me to dismount. He hadn’t done that in so long, it was probably one of the most memorable emotional moments of my life. I have had a few emotional moments in my life, and they should be way more significant that this moment. But that is the moment that sticks with me, and makes my voice catch when I speak of it.

I have always been lucky. Riding and Horses were not only my passion, my soul, my DNA, but I was able to do it for a living, while traveling the world, and I wasn’t a perfect rider, I hadn’t perfected myself, but I was good enough, and it gave me peace. Then one day it all changes. Your horse makes that change. The same horse that is your password, personalized bumper sticker, and the reason you haven’t had a date in years. I thought I would never get that back. I was about to quit, and just retire him (he was 10). It’s a bit like describing a heartbreak, or grief. I was grieving almost 40 years of working with and riding horses.

I sat there and sobbed for 30 minutes, into his neck covering both of us in snot, drool and tears. Like I said,  It was an emotional moment. Even bad ass horse girls have a little cry from time to time. I know, shocking, right? I sound so stable and put together….

Lets take another skip on down the path to “back to the story” land. He just stood there. Not a step in any direction. Just stood there. Licking my riding breaches. He’s a goofy gelding. It’s not weird. That is what they do. Here we are 2 years later, and he has had his little yearly break. Off the “Bars” after knocking over a couple of Vet offices and a short stint in horsey rehab. He goes to meetings and quotes The Big Book. One day at a time and all that…. That may have been a little to much sarcasm that time. He is doing great.

So, that is what I felt like rambling about. For today’s messy advice: For the Non Horse Husbands and Boyfriends: Something you need to remember, sugar tits. We move 1200 lb animals with a slight change in our voice. We ALWAYS have Shit, a Shovel, and a Bag of Lime within 50 feet of us at all times. It is never a good idea to F@&k with a Horse Girl! For the Ladies: Always keep shit, a shovel, and a bag of lime within 50 feet of you at all times. Mich drop. R.J.

The Dumpster Fire takes it to the Dump