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.