My Indy-versary

It's been exactly one year since I realised a lifelong dream; perhaps the oldest and longest dream I've held in my heart.

Today is my Indy-versary.

One year ago was simultaneously one of the best and scariest days of my life.  Starting horse ownership as someone who hasn't ridden in a decade and a half, with a horse that is not trained to ride is not the smartest way to start.

My handsome boy:

In the days since, I have spent more time in the sun than ever before in my life.  I have gotten covered in hair and mud, nearly trampled once, nipped, and pushed around.  I wouldn't take back a single minute.

I find it difficult to explain why an animal means so much to me.  I was horse crazy for so long, then let that dream go as I became an adult.  It was an expensive dream, and one I no longer had time for.  Then I became a mother, and the dream seemed even further from my reach.  I allowed it to settle so deep into my heart that I stopped asking for it.  A distant part of me hoped, but my more realistic self knew that it was unlikely I would ever have a horse of my own.

Until I met a horse when I wasn't even looking, and the kind man who owned him gave him to me.  Aside from my children, never in my life have I been given something that meant so much, for so little in return.

(This is Indy in his natural state: trying to steal horse cookies from my pocket.)

For the first seven months I saw him every single day.  Since the weather turned cold and miserable over the winter, I have seen him at least every other day.  Sometimes it's just for a quick hello and a pat on the neck, others for over an hour of training or playing in the field together.  I've only ridden him twice in that time.  He was awesome both times, despite being untrained and ridden by an inexperienced rider.  I have taken my time in training him, and enjoyed (and still do!) spending time training on the ground.  We'll get around to riding when the time is right for the both of us.

He raises his head and looks at me when my car comes into view, and in the time it takes me to gather my gear from the tack shed he is always waiting for me right outside.  He follows me around, even when I don't have treats for him, even out of sight of his three equine pasture mates.  I call him my 'giant dog with hooves'.

This is my usual view as I get out of my car:

(Yes, that's him standing by the gate, as close to me as he can get and still be inside the fence.)

He has become my best friend.  There is no day that, however bad my day was, and however reluctant I am to drive out to see him, I leave in a better mood than I arrived.

I very nearly lost him to a bout of colic in September, and it was the worst three days of my life.  I watched him lying still in the field as his eyes clouded over and he wouldn't move.  By some miracle he got up on his own five minutes later, and with the help of a veterinarian and some medication and lots of care, he was back to himself after only a week.

I have taught him to pick his hooves up nicely, to stand to be brushed, to side-pass on command, back up without having to touch him, to load into a trailer nicely, and not to bite people in an attempt to get food, not to mention a lot of other things I won't bother to list.  He is a pet, and I expect to keep him to the end of his days.  If I am very lucky, that will be in twenty years or more.

Today is the anniversary of our first year together.  Words cannot express how grateful I am, how much he has been a gift to me, how he filled a hole in my heart and in my life that was there for so long I forgot it existed.

Thank-you, Jim.  If I had all the money in the world and years to search, I could not have found a horse more perfect for me.  I love him to pieces, and I'm pretty sure he likes me an awful lot.

Indy, here's to the first year of our life together, and here's hoping to many, many more. 

I love you, buddy.

-Nan