The Cosmic Conciousness

Sometimes when you put things out there, things happen. My dad always called it the "cosmic consciousness", meaning that what one person thinks is passed to the other humans around them on a large scale. Think about that, how many times does this happen when thoughts or ideas spread like wildfire, even if no one spoke about it? More often than you think ;)

Anyway, when I was feeling at the edge of despair about what to do with Ace, and feeling I was coming close to an impossible decision I was not prepared to make, the phone rang. Just like that. I answered it to find the voice of Stefanie Travers who I had not heard the voice of for several years. She was the only farrier that stuck wih Ace through his training of "foot handling", and had long since moved away to start her own career in horse training.

"I have an empty spot in my horse trailer and I am heading back home. Can I take Ace? It is time, lets get him going."

WOW. I have to decide NOW? Umm, Umm, Okay! Do it. There is no one else I would trust, who had the same style of training I wanted to persue, and who I trusted to treat him properly. It felt "right". He was taken while I was at work and went off to sleepaway camp for one month as agreed.

At the end of the month the little scoundrel was not quite out of his stubborn, set WELL into his ways lifestyle that he had been accustomed to. Stef wanted him to stay another 2 months. I couldn't. Money was too tight, and taking this money from my family was already difficult at this time in our life, as I am about to begin my schooling. I had doubts, "did I waste the money to send him? Was this a mistake?" Stef said to come out and do a "Trail Riding with confidence" camp. Huh?? I have no confidence, I doubt I can even ride him, she is crazy! The negative talk was pulling me, but Stefanie gave me the extra push and I made it happen. I took out "death and dismemberment by horse" insurance and started to pack.

If you have not done a camp with Stefanie Travers you need to stop reading now, get onto http://www.lodestarhorsemanship.ca/ and sign up NOW! Yes, it was mind blowing for me since I made the great leap to finally riding my horse, but aside from that Stefanie has a gift. Now, there are plenty of very gifted horse trainers, but not many have the gift with the people as well. She is able to meet you where you are, in a completely non-judgemental way, that relaxed both horse and handler. She is at home with professional horse people and backyard pony people, she has no pretense, aside from the desire to see people and horses happliy working together. Anyway, I digress...

So I go to Merritt for this camp and arrive around midnight through the backroads and darkness. I find the place, horses in fields, mobile home, horse trailer, yup... I am here. I quietly sneak up to the house with my extension cord, hoping to find a place to plug in my power cooler, to no avail. Hmmm... funny the dogs aren't barking. I can't find an outlet anywhere! I am so tired from working all day then driving all night, I crawl into the back of the van, saddle as a pillow, and sleep, only waking every so often to plug the cooler in to the van to cool it a bit, but not drain the battery! Morning comes. I wake to the sound of footsteps outside may van. I peek up to see a strange man walking by and looking at the van confused. I watch him feed horses. He wanders back to the house, passing the van. I bravely come out. "Um, is this Stefanie Traver's place?" He replies, "nope, she is at the next farm down!" Completely embarrased I quickly collect my outstretched extension cord and scurry out with many appologies and excuses for my mistake! How embarrasing!

The bonus of this little side trip was during the drive up the road to the right place, in the wee hours of the morning, I see a blur of fur racing through the field from the river to the trees. I recognize the stretched out body posture and the distinct tail as a cougar! Cool! I round the corner where the cougar disappeared and arrive at the correct farm, Dot Ranch.

I slip in, unannounced and set up my van for camping, "mom style". No one up yet, hmm. I see Ace in a paddock, so I try to figure out how to get to him, and find my way through the barn and into his paddock. Oh how nice to see him after a month away! I look around to find a brush, and find the tackroom. I brush him down and go put the brush back. A strange man approaches as I put the brush back in it's bin. "Hi." "Hello?" (OH please GOD, tell me I am in the right place, yes, Ace is here. Who is this guy and why is he looking at me like I shouldn't be here??) I scurry back to my van. Stef comes out with a big welcoming hug, boy did I need THAT! I tell her my adventures and it turnes out the other woman at the camp this week stopped at the same farm down the road and unloaded her horse, much to the fellows dismay. He then directed her to the next ranch up. Poor guy, one day I will send him a new sign for his ranch, maybe we chould call it "Ranch before Stefanie's Ranch" or something more witty ;) It also turns out the fella at the barn owns the property and it was HIS tack room I was borrowing things from. Ah, that explains it!

I settle in, have some breakfast and prepare for what lie ahead in 3 days of "Trail riding with confidence" horse camp.

The saga contiues... year 3-10

A year has passed... Ace is now 3, a good age to really start some training a bit more developed physically and mentally. I have realized I am in over my head. I have been out of the saddle for 6 years now. I find a wonderful trainer, Marion. Finally someone who I feel has the same core values and views about horses, and a wonderful natural talent. I have someone trailer my baby up to Princeton, me following all the way in my crummy old Capri, hoping I don't break down, hoping I don't get lost, hoping he will be okay. He has never been to "sleep away camp" before without Mom! I arrive, tuck him nervously into a paddock say my farewells for I will not see him for a month or so. Then I hop back in my beat up old car and drive home. I am not sure why I went, but I could not bear to just let him get in a trailer and leave. A month later I come back and I really don't think I would have recognized him if it were not for his coloring! He is so muscled, so thick! He looks great and Marion tells me all the wonderful things she does with him. I do a quick round pen session, tack up and off we go. This was the first day of my training... I began on a new path at this fork in the road. I have never been on a ride like that. The beauty of the land, the things a horse can navigate, go down, sliding, hind legs tucked under yet gracefully balance a rider on top! Slippery river rocks, things I thought only the elite trail riders of the world could do, here I was after years out of the saddle on a fresh green 3 year old doing. I then knew I could, he could, we would.

However a cruel trick of fate found me a few month pregnant with my first child upon this ride. 3 hours of riding, overweight, out of shape, morning sickness. I was pushed to exhaustion as Marion never walks *lol* I came home with my boy, tired, happy, and a bit daunted by how to manage this while pregnant.

The plan: Ride a bit on quiet local trails (Ace is so good), then have the baby, and have an hour to myself every day or so to go for a ride and enjoy the peace.

The reality: Ace lost his shine, realized I was not Marion, we had a few chaotic rides followed by the birth of Cole, who was a baby of extreme colic who nursed every half hour (or more) until he was 6 months, only slept for 1/2 hour-45 mins at a time and wouldn't go to anyone else but Mom.

A year passed. Ace sat in his paddock, a dream that had become only that, a dream. I was pregnant again! With 2 small children the poor guy sat in his paddock. Looking back I want to cry for him. How bored, how lonley. We got him a pony for a buddy (who was a cheeky mare that bullied him all day), his needs were met for food and shelter. But this amazing potential grew stagnant, then pushy, then cheeky. I lost my nerve, he lost his respect. I had no support in my training, and like him, I became frustrated.

I was at a loss. Should I have sold him? Who would even want him, no one would pay for him in the state he was in, and deep down I had this tiny ember of a dream burning bright. I was so lost in my new role as a mother and the resposibility that goes with it. They say you don't know what it is like to be a parent until you are, and they are right! I love my children so much I lost a part of myself and began losing balance in my life. I suffered from chronic guilt that if I was spending time with my horse I was a bad mother, and if I spent all my time with my children I was a bad horse owner. I could not win. Society looks at "mothers" more highly over a "woman's identity" so my choice was made.

As the kids grew I knew I had to do something with Ace, selling him was not an option. I wanted to train him and pick up where we began years ago, but how? Where would I get help, and how could we pay for any extras in these hard times? Too embarassed to go back to Marion, not to mention too broke! 7 years had passed since he had a saddle on or was made to do anything aside from stand for the farrier. He is 10 years old.

Now, I am not a "God-ly" person, as such, but I put it out there, and waited ....

And it begins....

Well here it is, our first blog!

It was mentioned to me by a certain cowgirl (...and you know who you are!) that I need to start a blog about my adventures, triumphs and defeats in regards to the portion of my busy life that I carve out for my horse Ace.

So a bit of history then, so you know how this relationship came to be. In 2000 I decided it was time to get a horse again after starting out on my own in life and settling in with the man that later became my husband. I looked far and wide, I looked at drafts, I looked at pintos, but there was this nagging desire for another cremello. When I was 10 years old my parents bought me a 2 year old cremello filly. She was beautiful, just like the unicorns that coated every surface of my childhood room. But, as green as we were, she was more green, and was sold to find a better "teacher" for me. All horses that pass through our lives teach us a lesson on the way. I don't think I learned her lesson and was destin to re-do it, which I guess is what I am doing now.

So I found Ace online. A straggly looking yearling ready to head to auction. I had saved up my tip money and didn't have enough to travel the hundreds of miles to view him, so I bought him sight unseen aside from one photo (which I can not find right now?) and the knowledge he hadn't been handled much. Born in the barn then left to run the property with the other horses, I figured, "well he won't have been ruined!" I had him shipped out. When he stepped of the trailer and blinked those big blue eyes in the sun, my heart was his.

We had a rough go for the first few days. He was very afraid, never had his legs or feet touched and I began to wonder what I had done! Then he just took to me, and I was mom. He followed me everywhere and acted like a foal to a Mare. As he grew I thought about not gelding him, as there was talk about AQHA overturning their decision to not register Cremellos. With nice breeding, and guaranteed to throw color I held off. By the time he was 3 he was a hormonal teen and I had to make the decision as to what our future was going to look like. I wanted a horse, not a stud, so we went to the vet. Not too long after the breeders came looking, as Cremellos were now able to be registered and they were wondering if he was gelded! They were disapointed he was, though I wouldn't have given him up anyay ;)

At 2 I attended a clinic by a well repected trainer, thinking it was foundation work. Boy was I surprised on day 2 when he said saddle up! We worked him through it at the clinic and I rode like the others, but the techniques this trainer was using were good in principle, but poor Ace was on his hinds, scared and confused. I do not feel he had the touch he claimed to be teaching. I took the good and the bad and filtered it to a way I could work with, and like any good horseperson, threw out the bad and moved forward with the good. I figured the clinic ride went so well I would just saddle up, hop on and ride the ring, with a buck, buck here and a... well that was it, actually! I was off and injured my leg. Pretty sure it was broken, I drove to the Doctor, but couldn't drive home when the swelling came in. I was off for awhile, my pride was brusied, and my fear began as a tiny seed planted deep within.

A year passed before I thought about riding him again. Why? I have fallen off so many horses over so many years, why has this affected me so much? Not only did I have the fear of being hurt, I had the fear of ruining him, this little guy I took in and promised to do the best for.

Stay tuned for part 2 in this saga that is our life.... :)

**Ace as a 2 year old in these pictures.