Editor’s note: We announced the 13 finalists in the 6th annual EN Blogger Contest last week, and now we’re bringing you their first round entries here on Bloggers Row. Each entry will be presented unedited for fairness’ sake. Thanks as always for reading, and please leave feedback in the comments section.
Round 1 Entry: Peace, Love and a Chestnut Mare
She came into my life just over 3 years ago. Underweight, high strung, and bored with her current life. I was underweight, high strung, and bored with my current life too. My wonderful dressage mount of 6 years had been gone for over 2 years, and there was still a gaping hole from her loss. Catch riding, and breaking young warmbloods wasn’t cutting it anymore. I’d lost my love of riding, was a poor college student working 3 jobs, and wanted to desperately find a way to afford my own dressage horse again. That’s when a friend suggested I get an OTTB resale project, but I would have to jump, if I was going to make anything off of it… it was worth a shot (but I would have to jump).
So there I was, on a blustery 20 degree February day, standing in the middle of an unfenced frost covered field, about to get on a 5 year old Chestnut OTTB mare that hadn’t been ridden in months….what was I thinking? Up in the saddle I went and wow could this mare move! She had an un-ruined sponge soft mouth, not to mention a perfectly square, tight kneed jump (yes I had to jump). She’ll make someone a nice event horse, I said, remembering she was just a resale project. I told myself, and everyone, I wouldn’t fall in love- besides she wasn’t a tall, dark and handsome warmblood.
That spring we ran a starter trial at Beginner Novice (I had to jump). She was bored and finished easily on her dressage score. So we aimed for a move up, and though she and I were both green XC, we went around another starter trial. Again, we finished on our dressage score (even though I had to jump). We went to jumper shows (yikes more jumping), started raising the fences, and not one pole was ever knocked. At this point, I started to think- I’m too chicken to jump what she wants to jump.
One grid lesson, my trainer raised the back pole on an oxer to 3’10” and asked if I’d peed my pants yet…. Yes.
I didn’t actually… (But I had to jump).
I knew the mare too had much jumping ability for me. It was time; she was ready for a more permanent home. I would make a profit easily, go back to Dressage Queen land, and get that tall, dark and handsome upper level dressage warmblood I so desperately yearned for.
Then Labor Day weekend hit.
She didn’t come to the gate, not even for grain. I could barely make her out in the field, but as I approached I noticed she was quivering, dripping with sweat. That’s when my heart sank. Sheer panic, excessive crying and heaving ensued. There, on 3 legs, her beautiful white stockings drenched red with blood was my talented re-sale horse. Defeated. Jagged gashes, and hoof prints tore through her chestnut coat. Her left hock, so swollen it could touch the right. We thought our journey was over there, in the field, a freak pasture accident ending our 6 month partnership.
My wonderful veterinarian convinced me she was a candidate for surgery. So she was given what was now her 4th chance at life. She was rushed to Spurlocks Equine in Virginia, where I was told to say my goodbyes, just in case.
In that moment my talented re-sale project became my forever horse… Me, a Dressage Queen that hated jumping (had to jump), and would forever be an event rider. I fell, and I fell hard, for the sport and for this horse.
Here’s a hint: This story has a happy ending.
Peace, love and a chestnut mare.
Go Eventing!
