I only “sort of” remember why I called the essay about ending one horse relationship Chapter One. I suppose the story about Tiki not “being the one,” might have been a chapter two, but it felt more like a bit of a sidetrack instead. Then, I did try to turn my experience into a set of chapters but find myself thinking about my own story pretty much the same way I think about memoirs and biographies in general. Yuck! Okay, if you are Winston Churchill, then you might be interesting enough for a biography of many volumes. If you are some addlepated soccer star, newscaster, heart patient, etc. then I must ask why you are trying to insert your mundane issues into my life. As I try to write about my experience with horses in an organized manner, even I don’t care! That project is set aside.
I do like to share some thoughts in this short-essay manner, though. I don’t think anyone, or no more than one or two, are reading anyway. So, here goes! Chapter Two is about the new kid on the block: Be Yur Huckleberry, or Huck for short. Huck is, quite simply put, the reincarnation of Velvet in a 9-year-old gelding. Seriously. Horse type, color, body shape, hair type and, best-of-all, comportment and personality are all the same. Ignore that funny top knot caused by an oops cutting of his mane at some point. It’s gonna be a grow-out adventure. Meanwhile, the story about finding him is full of synchronicity and serendipity.
Since Tiki did not work out and I sold her in the winter, I had decided to be very casual about looking. There are few-to-no available boarding spaces available within a decent drive, and why suffer with winter in starting with a new horse. But I couldn’t avoid looking a little. There was another failed try with a horse that failed the pre-purchase exam to think of as well. I was starting to see all the money I was spending to still not have a horse. The horses on the Facebook pages were less and less right for me now that I could rule out all that resembled the training and characteristics of Tiki.
Still, I dipped into Dreamhorse now and again. Dreamhorse.com is a dating site for horses and humans; the horses just don’t know it. My parameters of age, size, and price were yielding the same six or seven horses at each viewing. I decided to increase the upper price level to see what I would find. I hear you thinking, “Uh Oh.” You are correct, but not at first. My first reaction was to look only for those at the lower end of the increase. Guess what, it was those same horses. Okay, I’ll creep up the dollar ladder a bit. Here’s where the uh-oh really began. The black horse in Eastern Washington.
As with any dating site, there are pictures, maybe a video, and a written ad. The more pictures, the better chance of selling the horse. I had been purposeful about not trying to replace Velvet with a copy, so was not looking at black horses. However…this ad could have been about her, the pictures looked like her, and the videos demonstrated that the horse moved much like Velvet. Uh-oh number two. Shelley asked me how the horse search was going. I suggested it wasn’t, but then fessed up about the one I’d found. She asked what Rachel thought of the horse and I had not been considering so hadn’t asked. So, I asked, “Is this horse worth the price they are asking?” Rachel replied that yes, if the horse really was as the ad described, it was worth that price and I should talk to the owner.
This is where it all could have ended. I would be emptying most of my non-retirement “fun money” accounts to afford this horse. If I stopped there, perhaps something would come along at a better price. But wait. All the better priced horses had failed vet exams (or would have cost me a fortune in vet bills if I indulged my interest in the horses). I’ll just call and see how I feel about the owner and what she says. Okay, so the easiest way to describe this is that it felt a bit like talking to myself. Similar age, similar interests, similar riding skills, etc. And the horse sounded like Velvet, with the exception that she had done more adventurous things with her horse than I had ever done. Things like mounted shooting and search & rescue.
Uh-ohs became “hmmm, maybe I should.” Maybe I should check this out, so I asked about seeing the horse. There were others interested who couldn’t view the horse until later in March (this was in late February). I hear myself saying that I can be there in a couple of days. Okay, the horse is not currently in Thorp, but is with a trainer in Ellensburg and I should make arrangements with her. Maybe I should go over and try it out. Now starts the serendipity. The trainer is one that Rachel knows, and she works out of an arena at the farm of a mutual friend. Rachel mentions she will be in Ellensburg at the weekend and can coordinate checking out the horse. Result? “This horse is pretty much perfect for you,” and “I tried to find fault but had a hard time finding anything.” You can see where this is going. I trust Rachel implicitly plus she sold me Velvet and trained us for most of the eight years together. Who would know better that this is “the” horse?
After we spoke on the phone, I said I needed some time to think about it. Maybe I should just face the situation and forget the cost. Let’s see, I thought, divide the price by the number of years expected and the annual cost isn’t bad compared to a lower priced horse a) with higher priced vet costs and b) that is less perfect for me. The next day, I was all in and making arrangements to take a friend with me as I went to ride the horse. Then Rachel suggested we go over with the trailer so that we could just bring him on back. Okay, maybe I should just be positive and expect the best.
The moment of truth was when I took the horse out of the pen at the end of the arena. He walked with me, trotted with me, and generally acted as if we had an established partnership. Then, I got in the saddle. It was over. He was mine. Be Yur Huckleberry, nickname Huck, looked like, smelled like, felt like, acted like, and rode like Velvet. I was home. Oh, he’s different, of course, and pretty much all in good ways. His head/face is more masculine, his mane is fuller, his junk is different 😊, and he has really great bone in is legs and feet. My farrier would later say that he wished they would breed all Quarter Horses with such great structure. Overall, though, I had almost nothing new to learn about being with Huck. I already knew how to ride this horse.
The local trainer, Portia, put me through some paces, but I needed none of that because I knew from the first moment I started the ride that this was it. I rode as long as I did just because I didn’t want to get off, and I didn’t want to part with that check. LOL. The vet was on site and ready for the day’s work. We were lucky enough to tag on at the start of his stay. He’s a local there but visits the West side of the state because he’s sought after for his knowledge about lameness issues. That is the first, and main, thing for a pre-purchase exam. He declared the horse boring because he could find nothing wrong with it. Done deal. This horse worked easily with me, I was already attaching to it, the trainers pronounced it a good match, and the vet endorsed the horse.
Thus, it happened. In just over a week, I went from no prospects to SOLD! Huck is mine and the next hurdle was to find a place we can call home. He’s currently couch surfing in stalls that are temporarily available at the barn where Rachel trains on the Plateau. Finding a new home also was a bit of synchronicity and serendipity. In requesting to be added to their usual wait list, I learned that three stalls were opening with no wait list at the place in Tacoma I’d identified as a possible. We were going to get a highly sought-after stall with a run. This story is yet to unfold, but the highlights are that it has all-day turnout, the stall with a run, three arenas (one indoor and two outdoor, plus two round pens), a big obstacle course, and horse trails in a county park right off the property. And it’s about a 15-minute shorter drive each way. We move the horse on April 6th. From there, the adventure begins!
Can you tell which is which?
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