Okay, okay. I haven't written in a week. There's a good reason, I assure you.
It's because nothing has been going on.
Well,
that's only partly true. The other reason is it's been so cold here
that I haven't been able to feel my fingers in about a week. Ditto my
face.
If I'm walking around looking like I had forehead
botox, it's actually because my eyebrows are frozen in a
semi-rigor-mortis state. It's a well-documented side effect of the cold
in New England.
Over the past week or so:
I signed up for my testing slot for my nursing boards examination (scary)
I started applying for a bunch of real-life nursing jobs (flat-out terrifying)
I rode in a Western Horsemanship clinic with Jennifer Seymour (wicked cool)
Oscar came home from Argentina after being away for five weeks (...eh)
Most of those things are actually relatively important, I suppose.
Trying to keep things light after yesterday's post. I'll be sure to put a tear-jerker disclaimer on the next sad post, promise.
The arena at work was plowed and graded after the snow yesterday, so it was perfect for riding this afternoon. All of the horses at work got their feet trimmed/shod and they had chiropractic adjustments yesterday as well, so it all came together to make for a very good day today.
Berri, the dressage pony, was the first to be ridden. We're working on training level dressage, so it's nothing super-fancy yet (none of Stephen Colbert's so-termed "fancy-prancing", but we're working on it). That doesn't mean that I'm not excited about every little thing that goes right, though. Because I absolutely am.
Today was the first day that I managed to get Berri to engage her back and lift in real collection for more than two steps in a row. I was praising her like she'd won at Devon, and I think she was pretty pleased with herself too.
Me and Berri, two weeks ago
Zoe was next up, and we had a similar breakthrough in our communication. Something along the lines of her realizing that she can't counterbend or go crooked around the entire arena. Either that or she just got dizzy from all the circling.
Carlos, the saint of a horse that he is, is worth his weight in gold. I hopped on for a quick warm-up and then he was off teaching beginner lessons both on and off lead. There's really nothing like watching a new rider, grinning from ear to ear as they walk around the ring on horseback (without a leader or side-walker) for the first time. And there's no better horse for that job than Carlos.
Carlos and I, August 2012; like I said, he's a saint
We had a snow day up here in the godless north today. Which doesn't mean too much for me, being a new grad, other than the fact that I could not make it out to the barn to ride or work or play with chickens.
I tried to spend as much time studying for boards, but there's only so many questions you can take until you find yourself choosing to steamclean the carpet rather than study for another five minutes. True story.
So once I gave up on all of that and got myself a mug of hot chocolate (extra whipped cream, of course) I sat down and started writing. Because I wouldn't be here today without the many horses I've learned from over the years, I need to write about them. Some are gone, some are still here.
Fair warning, this story is a sad one, about one of the ones who are gone. It's as much a story of what was as it is a story of what could have been.
This is Tessa's story.
Tessa is a bay Morgan mare with a strange disconnected stripe. She was born in Maine in 1993, the offspring of Tedwin Topic and Valiant Aphrodite, and soon registered under the moniker "Cabot Top Attraction".
Tessa went on to show (and win) at the Morgan Grand Nationals, taking home a number of top honors throughout her career. As a matter of fact, I first heard about her when she won against my previous trainer in the Hunter Pleasure Ladies Mares class at MGN 2003. While my trainer's horse, Whispering Lark, was nice, Tessa was something else entirely.
After her show career, Tessa went on to be a broodmare. She has a number of foals on the ground, most of which resemble her greatly.
At some point after that, Tessa was donated to the UConn horseback riding program, where she was used as a lesson horse. I met her my freshman year, the fall of 2006, and fell in love.
We clicked, and it wasn't long until I was riding her regularly in Drill Team practices. She was a fireball, but never misbehaved; she was a quick learner and remembered drill patterns better than I did. When I left Drill Team, she did too. Apparently she trucked through a pattern with a poor rider clinging white-knuckled to the reins. It doesn't surprise me.
Even though I wasn't riding her weekly, I still made a point to visit her on an almost daily basis. She'd come to the front of her stall for a hug or a treat, and stand with me as long as I wanted her to. Some days, I'd sit in the doorway of her stall and read or do homework; she'd rest her nose on my head or shoulder and just watch everything else going on.
My friend Katie began riding Tessa in a few lessons, and she fell in love as well. It was difficult not to, with this mare. We dressed up for a costume class at a schooling show one semester. I was on my project horse, Katie was on Tessa. Between the four of us, we were Dorothy, Cowardly Lion, Scarecrow, and Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. The trophy we won still has a place of honor in my room.
Katie and I talked and made grand plans to bring our horses home with us once we graduated. She would have Tessa, the Tin Man, and I would have my project pony Ellie, the Cowardly Lion.
Time went on, and I managed to convince the barn manager to breed Tessa. She had a bay colt with her same facial marking and four white socks. He was named Tucker; he was, and still is, perfect in almost every way.
The first time I met Tucker; scarcely 1 day old
Me and Tucker, with Tessa in the background; I wish now that I had more pictures of her
Tessa was bred back, and I went home for the summer (this being the end of junior year, now). When I returned to school, things started to go downhill. Tessa lost her foal. She began dropping weight. Her vibrant personality was diminished, and she seemed tired.
It wasn't long before the diagnosis was made. Intestinal cancer. Advanced. No treatment. No cure.
I did what I could. We spent time together, with me just grooming her and stuffing her full of treats. I knew what was coming, but there is so little you can do to prepare yourself for such a loss. I braced myself, threw myself into work and riding and school, I tried to shield myself against what was coming.
On November 10, 2009, I overslept. I don't even remember the reason. When I got up, I checked my phone and found a text from early that morning.
"Tessa goes down today."
I knew that she was already gone at that point. It felt like my world had stopped. I managed to survive the day somehow, but I honestly can't remember what I did. I avoided the barn for a few days. My project pony had deserved a break anyways, so I didn't feel horribly guilty.
Actually, I don't think I felt much at all. I remember I didn't cry until the day after. But it was the sort of full-body crying where your entire face gets swollen and your chest and stomach hurt and there's nothing that makes it better.
Eventually, I made it back to the barn. Walking by Tessa's old stall was exquisitely painful. There was a new horse in there already. I don't remember who it was, but I hated them. I hated Tucker for having her face, her markings. I hated things that reminded me of her. I hated everything that wasn't her.
The pain was raw for so long after. But I survived.
It still sneaks up on me some days.
I plugged her name in to Google and found a video of her daughter, MEM Feel The Attraction, up for sale.
I'll admit it, I cried when I watched this
I toyed with the idea of buying her. Having a piece of Tessa. But I was reminded of a line from a book I'd read recently: "The similarities mocked me, and the differences tortured me." And I knew it would be true for me.
All I have left is her nametag from her bridle. And the memories. I think it's enough.
So you're probably wondering why this blog is named "The Naked Pony". It's not just because it's a fun title, it's also the name of my horse clipping/grooming business.
See, I figured I wasn't busy enough, so I started up a business of my own this year. It's a completely legit business. It even has a Facebook page.
This is one of my customers, Bamma. Isn't he cute?
This is Berta, again. She's the original naked pony.
The business is so far turning out to be pretty neat. I love traveling to different barns (especially the really nice ones -- I'm looking at you, Fairfield county) and meeting all sorts of new people and horses. Let's face it. Horse people are crazy. But they are a LOT of fun.
As one of my (okay, my only) New Year's resolutions, I decided to start keeping a daily horse training/riding journal. A sort of way to keep track of everything I'm working on this year at the barn.
Once I started writing, I realized I had so much to say and so little room to write it (I have one of those tiny little journals that sits on my nightstand), so I toyed with the idea of branching out in to the interwebs. The blogosphere. The bloggerwebs?
So here are the basics.
I'm a graduate nurse and a horse trainer. If that doesn't make too much sense, don't worry. Neither does the rest of my life. I'm trying to get it all in order.
I've always wanted to work with horses, but was told (multiple times, mind you) that I would never be able to make a living riding horses. So I went into nursing school. In my last year, I got a job as a riding instructor/exercise rider. Go figure.
Now I've graduated, and I'm going to be sitting for my state boards/licensure exam soon. Fingers crossed I'll pass that, and be able to work as a real-life RN soon. I've already started applying to jobs at a number of different hospitals, because:
1. I like working in the acute care setting, so that's a win
2. I need to make serious money and get my own horse house
3. Hello, do you realize how expensive horses houses are??
Oh, who am I kidding. I want a pony of my own!
This is Berta, the horse I currently lease. I call her mine, even though she technically isn't. Yet.
