Hi, I'm Ev. I'm training to become a horsewoman. These are my adventures and misadventures. I'm green as hell, but so far, so good. I'm now learning from Bo (and sometimes his wife DeDe) at D&D Ranch in Pope Valley. I am extremely lucky to have this opportunity, I feel quite blessed, and I feel that they, and horses, have really turned my life around.
Solomon is my baby- a big old flea bitten grey Appendix gelding who is very kind and way too smart! I love him so very much. He is a rescue and was meant to be co-owned rehabbed, and maybe rehomed to a good home. He turned out to be over 25 years old with injuries that ultimately do not make him riding sound, so he is retired.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Taking Solomon out for the day.

You know what I really, REALLY want to do?
I want to take Solomon out for the day. I want to take him to some huuuge, safe pasture with actual green things growing in it, or real, solid space to RUN. I want him to have a chance to totally be a horse for hours.
I also want to take him to the beach in some safe-to-swim-in cove. I don't know if he's ever had the chance to see the sea at all, let alone swim. Run across the sand, dance in the salt-spray.
I want to give him a happy, special day with surprises that aren't scary.
He has memories, I'm sure. I've heard that horses do not forget major things. He must remember the fear. The pain. The feeling of helplessness as he came crashing down to the ground. The burn of the ropes, the straining of the tendons, the beatings, the callousness of his keepers...
I want to wash it away with the gentle, cool, green-blue tide. I guess for him it would be blue-grey, and the sand would be yellow-grey, and the grass would be bluish, but I want him to have moments where he feels good and the air is fresh and clean, he knows he is safe and he is loved, and he can run and jump and be free, just for a little while, forever in his memories. I wonder if he would think about such an adventure after the fact. I bet he would recognize it if we went back again.
Don't have a trailer. Perhaps the nice woman boarding has one, maybe she'd like the idea of taking a little trip someplace paradisaical for horses and their families. Or maybe there's somewhere around here that would like that idea and take me and my horse (on Tuesdays!) along with their horse. I could help with gas.
I wonder if he would nip at the foam of the waves. I wonder if he would jump over a stream. I wonder if I could find a way to make it happen.
In an earlier age, in the 20s and 30s and 40s sometimes disadvantaged youths who only knew stone and smog and city got to go out to the country for youth camp and find a brand new world, joyous and full of discoveries. Wouldn't it be wonderful to give abused, neglected horses who are now rescued such an experience?
That is my dream.

Later next month, I'm going away for a little while. When I bought the tickets, I had not yet met Solomon. I think that I would have planned a trip for a shorter number of days had I known him then. I am so terribly worried that he will feel that I have abandoned them. They tell me at the stables that he loves me and he waits for me every day, hoping I'll come.

I was very ill today, after having gone out in the smoky air. I have asthma. I am still feeling rather sick. Thomas, my boyfriend, told me that I may not go out to see Solomon tomorrow because it is making me so sick. "But then he will be all alone there with no love, in his broken down corner stall, wondering why his person isn't there with him and if she want away."
So if I get one of those breather masks for toxic jobs, I can go. Not sure what he'll think of that, hopefully he won't think it is full of mountain lions, heh, but I'll get to see him, and he'll know my voice.

The barn was full today,

which shocked me. I wanted to sing to Solomon, but there were a lot of kids there and I felt ever so shy. :/ I can be timid in the strangest ways. But I want to sing to him. People tell me horses like it. I once sang to a gander of wild Canadian geese, and they all gathered 'round me in a semi-circle and sat down, their beady black eyes staring intently as I sang through my aria. When I finished, there was a pause, and then the geese all honked for a couple of minutes and then continued on to wherever they were going to sleep for the night.
Sometime I need to find out if there's a place I can take Solomon away from the whirlwind of frenetic activity that is a lesson barn in the summer. One that is not concrete and little sharp gravel caltrops. Some nice, shady, peaceful meadow that is quiet and safe, where we can just sit and breathe.
Smoke, smoke, go away...

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