A Little Girl's Dream

I remember that day clearly.  We had been on the farm for about a year or so, and my mother's younger brother and his family were visiting.  We were hiking down to the river, when my Dad got a phone call.  "Sorry guys," he said, "we need to go back to the house."  So off we trudged through the woods back to the barn...

And there was a shining chestnut, cantering across the pasture.

My first horse.

I remember the first time I ever rode him, test riding him at the owner's house, where she climbed into the saddle behind me and "showed me how to do it."  I remember seeing her hands, so calm and steady with the reins as he gaited around the arena, and wishing I could ride like that.

I remember being so scared of doing anything but walking around the ring, and how I would just brush him and sit on him instead.

I remember the first time I ever galloped him, riding him bareback in the pasture, and he took off, me desperately clinging to his mane, convinced I was going to fall off and die.

I remember my first "trail ride" in the woods behind the house, where we tried to squeeze under a fallen tree and I scratched my back up and cried.

I remember being too scared to ride him anywhere but around the house.  I remember finally being brave enough to trot around the house.  Then moving up to go up the driveway.  Then down the road.  Then all the way around the trail on my own.

I remember my sister having the hardest time finding a horse she liked, and so I told her she could have Cord and I would get a different horse.

I remember going horse camping, and Cord and my sister would just leave the group behind, going off on their own because the rest of us were too slow.

I remember struggling with a number of horses, always scared to ride them, always wishing I could ride Cord instead, because I knew I could trust him.

I remember going out on a big group trail ride and I rode the whole thing bareback, and he wanted to leave the other horses behind us.

I remember the hot and hilly Ride and Tie in VA, where Sarah and I raced him, and he hated being in the back, pushing himself to keep up with the much, much younger horses while we tried our best to get him to slow down.

I remember taking him to the neighbor's chicken stew, and giving pony rides to all the little kids, and running into a guy who had once barrel raced Cord.

I remember the day I took him out on a trail ride and he didn't try to run up the last hill back to the trailer, and I knew he was finally slowing down.

I remember giving my little sisters riding lessons, listening to them laugh as they "steered by themselves" around the round pen.

I remember noticing, a week or two later, that he was dropping lots of grain while eating, and he's loosing weight.

I remember our vet showing me how all his teeth are missing, and he can no longer eat hay or grass.

I remember walking him behind the pond, petting him one last time, and saying goodbye.