God Rides..... by Lauren Davis Baker

God gives us horses and compels some of us to love them. Yet why does the horse, an animal with such a big heart, live such a short life? Perhaps it's because if our horses lived any longer, we wouldn't be able to bear losing them. Or, perhaps it's because God wants to ride.

Perhaps God looks down on the fine horses we raise and decides when it's His turn to ride. He gives us a few good years to care for and learn from them, but when the time is right; it's up to us to see them off gracefully.  OK, perhaps not gracefully. Blowing into a Kleenex is rarely graceful. But we can be grateful.

To have a horse in your life is a gift. In the matter of a few short years, a horse can teach a person courage, if she chooses to grab mane and hang on for dear life. Even the smallest of ponies is mightier than the tallest of girls. To conquer the fear of falling off, having one's toes crushed, or being publicly humiliated at a horse show is an admirable feat for any child. For that, we can be grateful.

Horses teach us responsibility. Unlike a bicycle-or a computer-a horse needs regular care and most of it requires that you get dirty and smelly and up off the couch. Choosing to leave your cozy kitchen to break the crust of ice off the water trough is to choose responsibility. When our horses dip their noses and drink heartily, we know we've made the right choice.

Learning to care for a horse is both an art and a science. Some are easy keepers, requiring little more than regular turn-out, a flake of hay, and a trough of clean water. Others will test you-you'll struggle to keep them from being too fat or too thin. You'll have their feet shod regularly only to find shoes gone missing. Some are so accident-prone you'll swear they're intentionally finding new ways to injure themselves.

If you weren't raised with horses, you can't know that they have unique personalities. You'd expect this from dogs, but horses? There are clever horses, grumpy horses, and even horses with a sense of humor. Those prone to humor will test you by finding new ways to escape from the barn when you least expect it.

Horses can be timid or brave, lazy or athletic, obstinate or willing. You will hit it off with some horses and others will elude you altogether. There are as many "types" of horses as there are people-which makes the whole partnership thing all the more interesting.

If you've never ridden a horse, you probably assume it's a simple thing you can learn in a weekend. You can, in fact, learn the basics on a Sunday-but to truly ride well takes a lifetime. Working with a living being is far more complex than turning a key in the ignition and putting the car in "drive."

In addition to listening to your instructor, your horse will have a few things to say to you as well. On a good day, he'll be happy to go along with the program and tolerate your mistakes; on a bad day, you'll swear he's trying to kill you. Perhaps he's naughty or perhaps he's fed up with how slowly you're learning his language. Regardless, the horse will have an opinion. He may choose to challenge you (which can ultimately make you a better rider) or he may carefully carry you over fences-if it suits him. It all depends on the partnership-and partnership is what it's all about.

If you face your fears, swallow your pride, and are willing to work at it, you'll learn lessons in courage, commitment, and compassion in addition to basic survival skills. You'll discover just how hard you're willing to work toward a goal, how little you know, and how much you have to learn. And, while some people think the horse "does all the work", you'll be challenged physically as well as mentally. Your horse may humble you completely. Or, you may find that sitting on his back is the closest you'll get to heaven.

You can choose to intimidate your horse, but do you really want to? The results may come more quickly but will your work ever be as graceful as that gained through trust? The best partners choose to listen, as well as to tell. When it works, we experience a sweet sense of accomplishment brought about by smarts, hard work, and mutual understanding between horse and rider. These are the days when you know with absolute certainty that your horse is enjoying his work.

If we make it to adulthood with horses still in our lives, most of us have to squeeze riding into our oversaturated schedules; balancing our need for things equine with those of our households, children and employers. There is never enough time to ride, or to ride as well as we'd like. Hours in the barn are stolen pleasures.

If it is in your blood to love horses, you share your life with them. Our horses know our secrets; we braid our tears into their manes and whisper our hopes into their ears. A barn is a sanctuary in an unsettled world, a sheltered place where life's true priorities are clear: a warm place to sleep, someone who loves us, and the luxury of regular meals. Some of us need these reminders.

When you step back, it's not just about horses-it is about love, life, and learning. On any given day, a friend is celebrating the birth of a foal, a blue ribbon, or recovery from an illness. That same day, there is also loss: a broken limb, a case of colic, a decision to sustain a life or end it gently. As horse people, we share the accelerated life cycle of horses: the hurried rush of life, love, loss, and death that caring for these animals brings us. When our partners pass, it is more than a moment of sorrow.

We mark our loss with words of gratitude for the ways our lives have been blessed. Our memories are of joy, awe, and wonder. Absolute union. We honor our horses for their brave hearts, courage, and willingness to give.

To those outside our circle, it must seem strange. To see us in our muddy boots, who would guess such poetry lives in our hearts? We celebrate our companions with praise worthy of heroes. Indeed, horses have the hearts of warriors and often carry us into and out of fields of battle.

Listen to stories of that once-in-a-lifetime horse; of journeys made and challenges met. The best of horses rise to the challenges we set before them, asking little in return.

Those who know them understand how fully a horse can hold a human heart. Together, we share the pain of sudden loss and the lingering taste of long-term illness. We shoulder the burden of deciding when or whether to end the life of a true companion.

In the end, we're not certain if God entrusts us to our horses or our horses to us. Does it matter? We're grateful God loaned us the horse in the first place. And so we pray:


Dear God,

After You've enjoyed a bit of jumping, please give our fine horses the best of care. And, if it's not too much, might we have at least one more good gallop when we meet again?

Amen

WHEW!!! Horses out – and they’re NOT MINE!!!!!

Maybe I shouldn’t gloat, but for once it’s not my problem. I have terrible luck with deer taking down my fences, and I must admit to having occasionally left a gate open.

For a long time I was one of the only two places on the block with horses, so folks would automatically call me when they saw loose horses. Plus, my mare, Cynnamon, is a wanderer at heart. Anytime there would be a breakout, she was not content to just munch grass in the front yard – nooooo, she had to go on a vacation and drag everyone along with.

Many times Cynn would lead them down the block to visit the other horse(s), whereupon the owners would kindly feed the travelers hay and grain, and put them in a corral until I got home. Sometimes they would not even call me, since I automatically check their pens as I drive by, and once in a while I would just stop there, tie one horse to my truck bumper, lead another one out the window and the last [however many] would trot along behind. (Before you get excited here, this house is only about ½ mile from mine and we live on a country road with virtually no traffic). The neighborhood got pretty used to seeing my old scabby Dodge truck ponying several equines.

Back to the above kind neighbors, it was kind of a double edged sword – yes my horses were safe, and the people were very generous, but the horses got to thinking, “Hey, it's getting boring here at home. Let’s go down the street and have milk and cookies!” Funny in retrospect.

One time, the horses got out at night. I knew this because Zyggy is always the last one to know that an escape has been planned, and I am usually awakened by a frantic “Where IS everyone?” whinny as I hear one forlorn set of hoofbeats trotting down the road. At this time I had 3 horses – Zyg, Cynnamon and Sparkle (Zyg’s little sister). Okay..... old hat here, I stumble out to the barn sans flashlight, drag out a couple lead ropes and a bucket of grain (not always needed but can come in handy). Walk down the road to the corner. Neighbors have a zillion dogs out back all barking and raising hell, but they must know what is up because they don’t even bother to come to the door, they know I’ll get it taken care of ASAP. I can find my way around in the dark here.

I go up and softly call out, and here comes Zyggy, rather abashed at being taken in (again) by his mother’s scheme. She crowds up right behind him, pretending that nothing is amiss, and where the heck is her treat, thank you very much? Hmmm, I can’t find Sparky. Remember, it’s pitch dark and I’m looking for a black horse with a star. I feel around and finally locate her....in the round pen? How did she get in there when the others are just hanging out in the backyard? Maybe she got out first and the others came after her later...that’s not her usual modus operandi, but who can say?

I shrug and open the gate. She sticks her head in the halter as if to say, “Sorry Mom, I’m ready to go home”. I lead them all back down the road. I get about halfway home, and suddenly there are FOUR horses in my train. WTF????

Sparky trots out ahead of the group.... so who is at the other end of my lead rope?!?!?!?! I look, it’s a black mare with a star....? They don’t have a black horse....did they get a new one? Talk about embarassing.... yet thank the powers that be... NOBODY SAW ME. I marched right back to the neighbors house and deposited said horse back in the round pen. We then crept back home. What is so wierd is that she was so ready to go home with me, and none of my horses even gave her a second thought.

There are a few more good chuckles here but I’ll save them for later. To get on with today’s story, I was sitting at my computer and my cell phone rang. I don’t answer it if I don’t recognize the number, I’d rather screen my calls via voice mail. By the time I check the mail, there’s 2 frantic messages. The first one is from my ex-next-door neighbor. They sold their dairy farm, moved ½ mile down the road, and built a very nice home with nice landscaping. The first message is Linda screaming into the phone, “Laura, I think your horses are out, there’s four of them and they’re tearing up my nice yard and they’ve trampled my husband’s garden to bits! You have to come RIGHT NOW and get them out!” On and on in this vein.

My heart SANK....eeeuuuuuwwww...... this is gonna hurt. My horses don’t make a habit out of being destructive, but if spooked they could do some landscape damage for sure. I try to call Linda back but can’t connect, as she is apparently leaving another message at the same time. I rush out to my car and figure I’ll just have to call my boss from the road, as I live almost 30 miles away from work. As I try to call again, somehow I end up with my voice mail instead, and I’m talking to it thinking it is my neighbor...... she then says that there are 2 sorrels (light brown) , one bay (dark brown)and a palomino (yell0w). HOLD ON – I have 2 paints (white and brown), a black and a palomino!!! Thinking fast about the 3 other families that now have horses on my street... one has 1 bay. One has 1 paint and 1 Palomino. 1 has one palomino only. One has about 10 mostly paints and greys.

So we finally connect voice-to-voice, and she apologizes for the screaming but says she is VERY upset and now is late for work. I tell her they are not mine – she says she *thought I had paints but thought maybe I was boarding some others? I reassure her that I am not at all upset that she called me, and we both try to figure out where the strays came from. But you have NO IDEA how happy I am that they are NOT MINE!!!! Yippeee!!!