Bellingham or Bust!

I have not figured out how to tell the whole story publicly because I don't want to get all gossipy, and I really don't want this blog to have any bad ju-ju. So I'll try to write the Cliff's Notes version. Keep in mind that I am cramming three weeks of sleepless nights, emails, phone calls, trips to the stable, blood, sweat, tears, etc, etc into a few paragraphs. So bear with me.

It seems that the woman who sold him to us (let's call her Sybil; not her real name) may have actually believed that she was selling us beginners a fully-trained horse. Which is fine; there are days that I actually believe I am the Queen of Romulania and my shade tree produces twenties instead of fruit, and Edward Cullen will knock on my door any day now, crooked grin on his face, eyes blazing red, and say "You better hold on tight, spider monkey," and whisk me out into the starry night. And that I'll never have to wax my brows again. And that Springsteen wrote 'Born to Run' about me.

But I digress.

Bottom line: we love him madly but HE IS NOT A TRAINED HORSE.

This whole time we had been brainwashed by Little Miss Sybil into thinking it was "our fault," that "if only we were more experienced he'd be fine" -- but then all these people came to meet him and rode him, and they were like, Oh gosh no, it's totally not you; he's one-sided, and he just doesn't know basic rein and leg cues. It was that simple: he just didn't know. Not that he can't learn. But the bottom line is: it's not us -- they, with years and years of experience and way mad horse skills, all got on him and were like -- oh, so he's untrained? This coming from 4, 5, 6 people? Trainers? All with the same things happening? Yeah -- in the words of the great Robert Zimmerman: It ain't me, babe.

He is a sweet, sweet, sweet boy. A kind horse, an eager-to-learn horse, an experienced follower on trails, a greenbroke pony with a heart-o-gold. He gives the best horse hugs on the planet. Was he the right fit for beginners? Absolutely not. Did we throw away our life savings? Just about. Did I see it coming? Not at all. We were led to believe we were buying a trained horse (and if you have a bridge for sale, I'd be interested in coming to see it).

I mean: who sells a practically untrained horse to a kid and her mom? Talk about bad karma. You've got to be crazy to do something like that (yeah, crazy like a FOX).

HOWEVER. The story has a very happy ending: the MOST wonderful woman came and took him today. So he'll be living in Bellingham now, with a beautiful Arab as a pasturemate and 10 gorgeous acres as his playground, and he found himself the best human he (we) could have hoped for. She is kind, no-nonsense, strong, intuitive, gentle, honest, grounded, centered, calm, skilled, smart: all those great horseman (woman) qualities. And she is up for the task of working with Tobbi, teaching him to respond to cues instead of just following others on trails. She already worked with him a tiny bit in the arena, and he started to respond to her. It was a beautiful thing.

And then, in an act that was the polar opposite of Sybil and her crazy swinging carrot stick, crying in the rain, chaos, confusion, trial runs and excuses (and then blaming the whole brouhaha on me; it was "beacuse we were there" that he was "distracted") -- was today's trailering experience: He stepped right in. First try. Just walked in like you or I would just walk in (step step; step step). Took all of 3 seconds. (And we were there. So I guess that wasn't our fault either. This is all so liberating).

So. That chapter is over. Lindsey is still taking lessons every week, and there is still no better smell than horse-smell, no better kisses than big flappy heavy lipped horse-slop kisses, no better feeling than being up on that high broad back. But for now, horse-owners we are not. What a whirlwind THAT was! Reminiscent of the Carmen Electra-Dennis Rodman marriage, but w/o the makeup.

(PS: any blogging that will be done from now on will be done over at the mother blog, http://wendyblackburn.blogspot.com/) And I'm going to sleep for the next week solid; I'm drained from it all...

A Flurry of Interest!

Interesting how when you do truly let go and put it out to the universe, the universe provides...

In the past few days, I have heard from a delightful mom with two girls who ride that are looking for a horse of their own; a broker/trainer/seller who might have a lead; a breeder who might have a lead; a generous offer from our trainer to help match-make; someone who saw the short-lived ad I had online and is interested in the breed and thinks he sounds wonderful; and the woman who was going to drive him back to Orcas, back when we thought he was going "home," she wants to come meet him too!

So there is interest. People want to meet him. Not that I don't understand why! What's not to like? I so wish we had timed this differently and waited until we were better riders, but if I start on my list of regrets I'll run out of bandwith or something. And I'm not into guilt-trips and told-you-so's, so I'm not going to dwell on what we should have done differently ... just move on from here and see who comes into his life, that can do him some justice. I know we love him, and I know sometimes that just isn't enough. Love is not (sorry, Lennon/McCartney) all you need. You also need training and better horsemanship skills, and a great deal of money.

NEVER. MIND.

Well.
That was quick.

In the span of just a few days last week, we first decided that we needed to let Tobbi go, then his previous owner agreed to have him back, then that took a left, and now we find ourselves quite possibly looking for a new home for him...

I'll post the whole story once everything has actually "worked out" and is "over" -- I feel sort of like I'm on jury duty and can't really blab until the case is closed -- let's just say that for now...it's back to the starting gate (NPI) as far as horses go. I'll miss our boy (in some ways he will always be our boy; in some ways I wonder if he ever was) but I know we're doing the right thing by him. You know how when you think something is working but then once you stop and really get it, you realize you've been forcing it, and you surrender and then it all feels for-real right and you get out of the way and you can breathe again? That's where we're at. It was a great idea, but didn't quite pan out the way we'd imagined. How cool to be able to admit that we made a mistake, and instead of worrying about looking bad (though I do feel utterly humiliated), just stand up, say OOPS, and move on.

I know it's not "his fault" -- he is a prince. We are just a little too new at this to know what the heck we're doing.

And so we're in limbo yet again...waiting...wondering...on hold...
Stay tuned. Hopefully soon I'll be posting an announcement that we've found someone delightful for him...

Seabiscuit

We watched the movie last night. I had wanted to see it when it was out, what, 5 years ago, but whatever...I finally rented it...I was ready for a great horse story, but the ulterior motive was that Tobey Maguire is just so dang cute! I thought, what could be better than the two together? It was like when David Bowie played Andy Warhol...two faves wrapped up in one package, right? OH NOOOOO. Have you seen it? No, not the movie. His hair. There should have been a warning on the box, some sort of parental advisory sticker or something, alerting the viewer that the Tobey they are about to see looks like the singer from Simply Red, or Carrot Top, or Annie. Two words: orange, and perm. Those aren't great words alone anyway -- but together, and on a previously cute guy's head, they are particularly atrocious. YES, I get that the real-life jockey was a redhead, but still.

I looked for photos on Google Images to post here, but all of them (cleverly, like the packaging) have T in a helmet, or a cap, or something that hides the shocking chia pet spirals of peroxide that lurk underneath.

But other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play?

Very much: With said helmet on, it was a fantastic movie. Does everyone cry when horses cross the finish line, or is it just me? Maybe it's a movie thing, a trick of the writers and the camera crew. Would I get all verklempt if I actually went to a real racetrack? Especially with all the mistreatment and tragedy that goes on in that industry? I remember going as a kid (I think it was Santa Anita) and sitting in the inside grassy part of the park and watching them go by, feeling them go by, the ground shaking under their thundering hooves; it was amazing, however, I don't think I got the choked-up thing. But every horse race movie I've ever seen...The Black Stallion...Dreamer...I just cry buckets as they round that last turn.

I swear to god, if I wasn't 5 foot 10 and pushing 40 years old (and my horse wasn't a 13.1-hand Icelandic), I'd seriously be considering a career change. I have it all worked out in my head, too: my colors would be periwinkle and deep royal purple, a harlequin pattern, the material a rich shiny satin, and the horse would have a matching mask. And we'd be so fast.

He's here!

Yes! Tobbi has arrived! Just over a week ago, and he is soooo happy in his new digs, with his new pasture-mate, with his new people. We have been to see him every day except one, really just trying to make the transition as smooth and gentle as possible, surrounding him with love and affection and extra carrots. Much the way I imagine the Jolie-Pitts do whenever they get a new kid.

We've had one lesson/assessment session with our trainer Kate (who rocks), during which he was mostly a good boy, though he did have to show us his stubborn side a couple of times, all digging his hooves in and not budging, and then shaking his head up and back and around like he'd seen Flicka one too many times. Flashbacks from when he was a young stud or something, I don't know. It did look cool with his rock-star mane. But the stubborness was very short-lived (like 5 minutes) and so unlike him...it was like he had to remind us that he could be tough if he really wanted to, and now that we know that, he can relax and be his usual almost-docile, very polite, modest, and dignified self. He is SO responsive to Lindsey, as she did starts and stops and back-ups and this funny little tiptoeing-sneaky walk with him all around the arena. Walked in and out of poles and stuff. It was cool to watch.

OH! And for those of you who didn't get the ofoto link, here's a few pix:
(and by "a few" I mean "a couple hundred")

1. Our Orcas Island trip, which culminated in bringing him home
2. The Party: Happy Birthday Lindsey & Welcome Home Tobbi!

neigh-sayers

OK, my new pet peeve: I mention we're getting a horse to someone and they say something like:

"Why would you do that?"
"Really? Well get ready: they are so expensive!"
"Well! That'll certainly turn your life upside-down."
"HA! My condolences."
"They're really high-maintenance."
"Are you sure you can afford it?"
"They're a lot more trouble than they're worth."

I wish I had the nerve to say things like that to people when they tell me that they are realizing their lifelong dreams. But I was raised with...what are they called?...Oh yeah: MANNERS.

Looking at that list, I realize one could also (if one were a a complete and total jerk) say that to a couple expecting a baby. Imagine looking at a pregnant woman and saying such insensitive, discouraging things! SAD. "Wow - you sure have no clue what yer gettin' yerself into, little lady." WHAT. EVER.

Three Weeks Left!

Today is the three weeks point for until we get Tobbi. I am so excited, I get a horse! I'm a little bit nervous about if he'll like us or anything, but I know for a fact that we like him. Whenever we talk about horses, my 2 year old sister says, "Tobbi!" I love it.

One thing that my mom and I like talking about is that Tobbi was the first Icelandic Horse I ever saw, and that I ever rode! When we drove past the farm where he is, where we were going to go trail riding, I exclaimed to my mom, "I want to ride the pinto!" And he ended up being our horse. I like looking at pictures of me hugging him, riding him, etc. and thinking, Wow. I'm going to get a horse. And it's Tobbi! It's amazing, a dream come true.

I enjoy talking to friends at school as well. I'll get to school and a boy that sits close to me during class will ask me, "Have you gotten your horse yet, Lindsey?" I like how my friends (even the few of them who don't like horses) are excited about what's happening in my life right now: amazement.

-Lindsey