Why Husbands Should Support Our Horse Passions
It’s been a long road these last few months on a both a personal and a horse level. On just the horse side, we dealt with Classic and her arthritic troubles which culminated in having to let her go in early December. My horse Ace had an abscess, followed by one minor injury after another. Last night, the Quarter Horse pony I learned to ride on had to be put down.
On top of wrecking my car, family illnesses, changes at work, and too much traveling and busyness, learning from my mom that Smoke had coliced badly and was going to be put down was more than I wanted to handle right now.
So I bundled up, drove out to the barn, hauled a mouting block into Ace’s stall, and sat there crying my eyes out while he cleaned up scraps of hay and searched my lap for treats.
I thought about Smoke and how much I learned from him and how much I loved him. The 24-year-old chestnut Quarter Horse was a little horse with a big personality. To this day, he remains the smartest horse I have ever known (although I think there’s a chance Ace may give him a run for his money). I started riding him when I was 9 and he was the horse I learned to canter and jump on as well as the first horse I ever showed. He challenged me and helped me build my confidence. He taught my sister to ride. After my family stopped leasing him, he partnered many other young riders in their horse journey. Smoke loved to pretend that he was grumpy and intimidating. He like to flatten his ears and wrinkle his nose and try to convince the young riders that he was a big bully. I was fooled for a little while, but learned soon enough that it was all a big facade. He loved kids and he loved the attention. He also loved going to shows more than anything. As soon as he had his shipping boots on, he was ready to go. At the show grounds, he would hang his head over his stall, intently watching everything that was going on. In the show ring, there was an extra spring in his step and glint in his eye. He sparkled.
Nine or ten years ago, Smoke got a back leg caught in a wire and severely mangled his leg. He was stall-bound for months while it healed, likely to never be ridden again. I’d take him out to let him graze in hand and he’d spin around me and buck. Not long after, he was back in walk-trot lessons with light riders. Eventually, he was strong enough to go walk-trot-canter again. He was full of heart.
Smoke was a challenge, which is why he taught me to be a good rider. He knew how to behave. He just refused to unless he knew you could make him. He got into a habit of bucking with lesson students if you tapped him with a crop, which scared the heck out of them. I’d get on and give him a tap, he’d buck, I’d tap him again, he’d buck again, I’d tap him a third time and he’d go along like a perfect angel. He just needed to know I wasn’t scared and wasn’t going to put up with it. He was lazy with lesson kids because he knew they didn’t have the leg or feel to get him to go. For me, it was nothing to get a strong trot or perfect walk to canter transition. We spent years working out the bugs, and once they were gone they were gone for good. He was a good teacher.
Ace seemed pretty understanding as tears poured down my cheeks and I took in rattling breaths. He didn’t tell me, “he was just a horse” or “it’s ok” or “you’ll get over it.” He didn’t try to make me quit crying or stop being so sad about my old friend.
He just took the cookies I offered and checked my hands, pockets, and lap for more. He went about his business of cleaning up his hay, occasionally coming over to gently bump my face or chest with his soft nose, or look at me with concern in his big brown eyes.
Sitting in Ace’s stall, bundled up against the cold, having a good cry, and watching my horse was about the best therapy I could get.
It’s not that my husband isn’t understanding. It’s not that I can’t cry on his shoulder if I wanted to.
But sometimes, a good cry with a horse is all I need. What guy wouldn’t like to get off the hook that easily?
Oh Jackie- my heart goes out to you girl. Look at all the wonderful memories Smoke left behind for so many people. He was able to teach so many, so much. I’m glad he was with your family for so long Jackie.
Ace is going to be a great horse for you. I can feel it
And you can replace the car. We can’t replace YOU. Glad you were OK there too.
Chin up girl- all of us out here will be thinking of you, and I just KNOW Smoke is looking in on you as well. He’ll help keep Ace in line, I bet!
On another note- I promise to pick you and Ace
Huge Hugs from the Southland
Thanks for the encouragement Mrs Mom!
I’m not much of a crier, so I still feel weird about admitting that so openly on here.
But it’s amazing what a good cry sitting in a barn with my horse will do. It’s like I got it out of my system and now I can just look back and remember all the good things Smoke did for me. Hopefully things will look up for at least a little while now; but if not I know where to go to vent!
Oh, Jackie, I’m so sorry. What Gretchen Jackson left out of her famous “the price of love is grief” statement is that the bill demands a balloon payment. The grief is just so awful, but a life without love isn’t worth living. What sucks is that we can’t have one without the other.
Jackie,
I am sorry for your loss, I lost my first horse very unexpectedly and I only realized how much she had taught me when I began working with my 2nd horse. It’s been almost 10 years now since I lost her… it still hurts, I still cry from time to time, I know we will meet again someday. I use the lessons that I learned from her every day I step out my back door and head out to the barn. And your right, they (the horses) are quite good at grief counseling. There is nothing so soothing as their breath against your face, the warmth under their mane and healing comfort of horse hugs.
Hang in there.
It’s always so hard to lose and old friend and especially one from childhood. You and Smoke look wonderful together in your pictures. He sounds like a horse who had a lot of personality and heart and he will be missed. Even though it’s hard to let them go, I think it was good for you to cry your heart out and get some of this overwhelming grief out of your system (for now) and that Ace was there to help you. Horses are very understanding and can always help us because they pick up our emotions. Don’t be surprised if you do this more than once, I know I did, it’s a hard thing to get over. I can only offer you my best wishes and hope this will pass soon and you will be on to remembering all the memories and good times you and Smoke had together. I’m sure he remembers them with love for you.
Jackie—Thanks for all of your wonderful memories of Smoke. I know how very special he was to you and your family. Your Mom has told us lots of great stories about him. He taught you alot growing up–about riding, horsemanship and probably life in general! I know you have been going through alot, and hearing about Smoke last night had to be awful for you. When it comes to needing consoling for certain things, Mariah is my favorite ‘go to’ for alot of it. So, I can relate to your connection to Ace. I love my husband dearly, but horses just have a way of giving concern and helping you get through!
Thanks for the pictures of you and Smoke. I will remember him that way. I know he will be with you in your adventures with Ace!!!
RhondaL – Even though it’s hard to lose horses (and no less people) we’ve loved, it’s certainly worth the grief to have the experiences and relationship we had together. I don’t question that for a second!
Jess – Horse hugs really are the best! I probably learned more from Smoke than most horses; he really is the one who put the passion and love in my heart. I will never forget him for that!
GreyHorseMatters – Smoke was one of a kind. As my friend Lindsay said (who was my childhood horse buddy), losing Smoke is like the end of an era for us. He was a wonderful tie to childhood and early horse years. I wouldn’t be the person I am today (not just rider) without him. I don’t know that I’ll have many more cries over Smoke (just happy thoughts), but I’m sure I’ll have more cries on Ace’s shoulders about lots of other things. He’s a good comforter.
Wendy – It’s nice to hear some comfort from somebody else who knows Smoke. He’s always been a great horse, but you would have loved knowing him in his younger days. I’ve never met a horse quite like him. And you’re right, he is definitely with me when I’m working with Ace because the both have the same smarts and same challenging attitudes. When I “fight” with Ace I think of Smoke, and remember that we always worked through it! Thanks for that reminder.
Reading your post really made me cry. I think you’re right; my husband is great but when I am sad I am aware that my distress is distressing him, so I tend to cloase down a bit to take care of him. I never thought of being with my hose Champagne in my sadness, but that feels just right.
Reading your post makes me aware of how wonderful Smoke must have been, and how you grew together into something solid and beautiful. And although I know no one else can take his place, I do feel sure that you and Ace will build something just as strong in its own way.
Oh I am sitting here with tears flying. My mom and I a few years back went through about 2 and a half years and in that time lost 3 of our dear horses and almost lost a 4th. The first was my filly (Kitt) that I waited 16 years to have (she was my 1st). She we think was part Passo part quarter horse, we put the horses out in the field and go a phone call several hours later that she had fell in the field and had a compound FX to the rear leg. After dealing with our vet being in Cleveland at a dinner and could not get there quickly and another vet the refused to come out to put her down we finally got a vet that came out and was a very nice guy and took care of what he needed to do and was very sweet to a couple females that were a mess in the tack room. My husband was a true trooper that night he was helping the vet with the issue and had to come drag me out there because she was trying to bite and kick the vet and him because I was not there. I came out and gave her a pat on the head told her I loved her and turned around and she stood like a champ and let them do what they needed to do. This is as hard to write about now after 11 years as it was that night. My mom had a big black Tennessee Walker (Koal) that went completely insane that night and we had to borrow a friends horse to keep him company well that horse became mine and I still have him today. He is now a 28 year old Arabian (Echo) that I love to death.
The Walker (Koal) the went crazy a year later went down to colic and we went to OSU with him and they opened him up and found a TON of dead intestine and had to put him down. She went out and found another big Walker (Duke) that with in 9 months to a year’ish somehow and we still don’t know how came up with a spiral FX to a front leg. So my mom before this one got hurt had bought another walker (Rebel) because we both ride on the county sheriff’s dept mounted unit became sick. We were going to ride and I got to the barn and found him down in the field and called mom saying that Rebel was down and not acting right. The vet called and off to OSU they went. Rebel had the same dang thing happening to him that Koal had happen BUT we caught it in time. Rebel is still with us. Mom and I almost walked away from the love of horses after those hard years. We stuck with it and today have 4 wonderful boys. Echo is retired now and is my 3 year olds learning horse, Rebel (23ish) is still working here and there with the Sheriff’s Dept. Our kids Raven (6 year old) Walker and Fox (7 year old) Spotted Saddle Horse are learning to be police horses and are keeping us young.
I am sorry I did not mean to ramble on like I did, but when I read your story about Smoke it just flooded my head with our losses. As with everyone else I know how you are feeling and was right there crying with you even though I did not know Smoke. Give Ace an extra treat and kiss.