The Meanwhile Rides: Part II - Finding My Seat

Next came Hunter -- in his late teens (I think?), this rangy 17 h TB sets a new bar for quirky.  I don't have a picture of him right now, but just picture a tall dark bay with solid bone, no white, & a truly noble face.  He ended up giving me something very valuable.  First, some background...

  

Hunter is another of TN's personal horses.  Most of her horses, Rocky being the exception, come to her because everyone else has given up on them.  They have been labeled "unrideable" or are rife with physical issues.  TN truly has a gift for these horses, no small part of which is her seemingly endless patience (seriously, I am in awe of this woman's capacity for calm).

I only know bits & pieces of Hunter's story:  he did event, has done some dressage.  He's a sensitive horse, particularly emotionally.  He has definitely had some rough patches in his life.  As a result, he had become volatile, which is understandable as I got to know how particular he is.  So he carries baggage, which I certainly don't begrudge due to my own familiarity with the concept.  You can't put the reins over his head from the front, you probably can't catch him if he doesn't know you, you can't carry a whip around him, & if another horse canters up behind him in the ring, he might tuck his butt & scoot.  And as we recently learned, a brand-new, stiff saddle pad is akin to torture & he will be unable to trot & will carry his back somewhere around his navel.

Hunter is Special.

Despite this, he has a deeply kind & patient nature.  He likes to be ridden a very specific way, but as long as you don't get aggressive, he will wait for you to figure your shit out.  Even if you are a slow monkey like me.  Thanks to TN's years of work with him, generally the worst he'll do is give a kick out if he thinks you have used too much spur or asked something unfairly, which I have no problem with.  When you do finally sort it out though, he'll give you a nice, respectful contact & a delightful canter.

Some days I feel like this...

As I mentioned, I was looking forward to the opportunity to work on my seat.  It's workmanlike, I think, but I know there's a lot of room for improvement.  It's something that is difficult for me, in large part because I have facet joint arthritis from about L13-S1, so things stay a little stiff, lopsided, & creaky in my lower back/pelvis region.  I never could convince the PT to take up residence in my spare room, sigh.

 

To get to the point of a story which is in danger of rambling out of control, Hunter showed me how to really sit the canter.  Of course, I have long been able to sit ON a canter, but I never felt like I really mastered that supple, following seat which just flows with the saddle inseparably.  It really frustrated me for years because I just couldn't put my finger on why I was failing at this.  I knew it was one of those things that you have to feel to understand, but I didn't know how to stumble into that feel.

 

Enter the gift that Hunter held.  TN was talking me through our initial ride as I learned what he liked & what he didn't.  One of TN's other strengths is a fine-scale eye for body alignment & feel.  She had me put Hunter on some 10-15 m canter circles, where he found his cadence & gave me a soft, receptive back to sit on so I could focus on following his motion with my inside hip.  And "suddenly," there it was -- my hips were part of his back, with no intermittent gap between ass & saddle, with the two of us completely, finally, moving as one.

 

I put "suddenly" in quotes, because as I'm sure many of you know, that was actually really hard work.  I've had to learn what I call "Hunter Time," which means "Super Slow & Patient" because Hunter does nothing in a hurry & gives nothing away for free.  Of course, me being me, I yelled out, "OMG! THIS is what sitting the canter is supposed to feel like!!  This is what I've been looking for for YEARS!!!"  I figure TN can at least have some free entertainment while she's on crutches.    

On that day, it felt like this

I've kept working on this in subsequent Hunter rides whenever he is cooperative (he doesn't always agree that anything which might outpace a snail is necessary nor should he indulge your tiresome human whim to continue at the canter).  And I've found that I'm able to carry that feeling, that seat, to other horses now.  It's not perfect, but a HUUUUGE leap forward for me & I'm really excited about it.  

 

At present, I can't break it down into words & I don't have any magic analogies for you, I'm really sorry about that.  I will keep thinking on it & if I come up with something, it's yours!  But I can say this:  when you have the opportunity, ride different horses.  You never know what gifts they may give you.

To be continued...

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The Meanwhile Rides: Part I

I think we can all agree that there is never a good time for your horse to hurt himself.  However, throughout the course of Echo's travail, there have definitely been some aspects of timing serendipity.

Normally, spring/summer/fall means lots of work travel for me, chasing wildlife across 1/3 of the state.  Which would have exponentially ratcheted up the stress of having to care for him off-property (yes, next-door, but still another place I needed to be).  But the pandemic meant drastically less field work due to logistical difficulties & virtually no overnight travel.

It also turned out that Echo wasn't the only one who needed me around.  In one of those in-a-flash mishaps that horses excel at, Trainer Neighbour (TN) broke her leg.  Luckily, it didn't require a cast, just six weeks of crutches, but that really puts a kink in your ability to feed a boarding facility -- & ride your training & personal horses.  I finally got a chance to feel like a Really Useful Neighbour: not only can I give a horse a schooling ride without constant supervision, I can schlep feed buckets around with the best of them & thanks to Echo, I was there every night anyway.

I actually started picking up the occasional ride before TN got hurt.  She had a full schedule & needed some help keeping her lesson horse in shape & I needed to not lose all my riding muscles to sadness & atrophy.  The bonus for me was that said lesson horse was Rocky:  the kind of horse who makes it impossible not to smile.

Only Rocky pic I have - during which he took a nap

Rocky is a 26 yr.  old Quarter Horse & reminds me in some ways of Solo

• He has a long back & a big spring in his trot.  
• When you ask him to canter, you can feel him go "yippeee!"
• He will attempt to convince you that his butt is only there to hold his tail on.
• Nothing makes him happier than a jump (or something he can pretend is a jump...like a puddle)

And just like Solo, he is a kind chestnut with a big heart who will never stop trying for you.  He has a sweet, pocket-pony personality & he makes the most adorable treat face you ever saw.  Yes, he is a priceless gem.

You might have read "old QH who is the primary lesson horse" & thought, oh, that sounds like a dull ride.  You would be completely wrong.

Rocky makes you smile just by being precious when you are near him, but once you start riding, that smile becomes a grin.  Because he is wonderfully responsive to light aids & can give you as much forward as you may desire.  And since he is 26 & honest, you have the option of letting him do his thing so you can work on yourself.

This allowed me to do things like spending an entire ride focusing on riding turns & bends off my outside aids.  Or making tweaks to my position or balance without having to remind the horse to keep going.  Or experiment with different corrections to see which gave a better result.

Bc riding Baby Monsters sometimes doesn't include perfect equitation, lol

It also allowed me try different exercises to tune up areas where Rocky tends to get sloppy, like falling out of the canter into a racing pile of forehand or snatching at the bit when asking for halt.  Playing with my toolbox & finding new pieces to add.

And of course, this was all re-tuning me, rebuilding lost muscle, & with his trot suspension, kick-starting my core re-development.  Which prepared me for the horse we added next -- a horse who actually cares what you do with your seat & just might buck you off if you don't listen, a prospect which both interested me & dismayed me, because seat finesse is what I have the LEAST of.  Similar to Solo's belief about his butt, I feel that my HQ only exist to hold my legs on.

How it went comes next...     

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In Which We All Co-Habitate Once More

That's right, Echo is finally back home!  

I decided to go ahead & bring him home this past weekend since we were supposed to get rain this week.  He was doing well in his enlarged pen & I didn't want him to backslide if I had to pen him back up just to keep him out of mud.  His own paddock here drains very well & doesn't get muddy.

So with the help of the always-fabulous Erica, we marched Gabe, Solo's substitute buddy, back home next door & returned with an (aced, just so I didn't get accidentally trampled in exuberance) Echo.

True to his good nature, he has transitioned back seamlessly to annoying us here instead of next door, ha.  It took him about 14 seconds to pounce on Solo's head for some Face Tag (during which Solo looked at me going, oh yeah, now I remember how annoying this kid is...).  After which, he returned to his normal pastime of meandering around his paddock & watching the world exist.

Echo in full meander

I'll wait a week before allowing him & Solo to be together again -- Echo has not been able to play with another horse for 4 months, so we didn't want to throw it all at him at once.  

I did sit on him once last week, just walking around for a few minutes.  It didn't feel great -- his feets are sore from not being on grass & his whole body felt tight.  But he seemed to enjoy getting out & doing something, even if he did get bored in about three minutes.  I at least know all the buttons I installed are still there.  And he behaved completely, which was the most important part.  He really tries so hard to be good.

No muscle, but shiny. I wore my vest just in case, but he was uber-chill

Moving forward, I will probably just stick to light work on the longe.  It's not really necessary for me to sit on him at this point & it will allow me to watch him.  I will just see what he tells me he's up for.  Right now, that is essentially walking.  But hey, it's walking AT HOME & it's walking WITH NO STALL CLEANING anywhere in the vicinity.  Vast improvements...

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The End Is Near!

 By which I mean...the end of cleaning that bloody stall!

To my relief & no small amount of surprise, Dr. Bob actually got to give us GOOD news on Tuesday:  Echo's fracture line is completely healed!!

 *pause for strange feeling...is that...dare we...hope?*

We are not completely done.  Echo still has some bruising in that area to heal & the lytic area around the toe is still filling in.  But now he is a "bruise horse" instead of a "fracture horse," which is somewhat less terrifying for "owner of horse."

The schedule is to let him out on a little larger paddock area (already done with success!) for the next two weeks.  If nothing untoward happens during that time, he can then come home & be in his paddock here for two more weeks & wean off the Equioxx, after which he can go back to regular turnout.

First grazing at liberty since July

I can also begin sitting on his sorry butt (well, technically, his sorry back) next week & tack walk him.  I'll bring along my friend, Ace, for the first attempt, of course -- I know he will try to be good, but he is holding in four months of PLAY-PLAY-PLAY, even a Very Good Boy can only contain so much.

Dr. Bob had us go ahead & transition out of his "fracture shoe" that farrier had devised, consisting of an extra sturdy draft horse pad, into a medium-soft EquiPak pad (forgot to take a pic of that), to provide a softer cushion for the bruising.  

Cut-down draft horse pad

I'm a long way from not holding my breath anymore, but it's a big step forward, so thanks for all the good vibes because they worked!!

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The Hits Keep Coming

Poor Echo. 

Baby Monster has been on small pen rest since July. His shoulder was making progress, but there was an element to his limp which persisted in a way that nagged at me. I scheduled radiographs with a secret hope that Dr. Bob would tell me I worry too much & everything looked fine. 

That's not exactly what happened. 

I did, however, get an answer. Echo, at some point (same time as shoulder? Hard to say), fractured his left front coffin bone. No horse owner wants to hear that particular f-word (it prompts even heavier use of the OTHER f-word). I did what I do - research.

Coffin bones are heinously slow to heal (of course), but, as long as the fracture doesn't extend into the joint, the prognosis for full recovery is very good. Echo's fracture does not extend into the joint & that whole joint is very clean.  This is good as long as it doesn't change.

He needed to be restricted, though, & I didn't have the setup to do so for 4-6 months or more. Thanks to my very kind neighbor, he is staying next door instead while I once again borrow Gabe, who kept Solo company when I sold Encore. 

At least he got a chance to learn about pigs...

This means that every day for the past 4 months, I work, then I walk next door & feed/muck out the Pig Boy, who loves nothing more than to walk in circles in his poop & mince it into a shavings jambalaya. I come home & have just enough energy to check out, which is why it's taken me so long to write this. 

Dr. Bob comes tomorrow to do follow up rads & see where we are, if it is healing, if it has spread - given our luck, I give it about 50/50 at this point. Obviously, I am hoping for some good news. I keep giving this horse chances because he really is something else. This 6 y.o. TB has been in this stall/pen for 4 months, only coming out a few times a week for hand grazing. And I can take him out in his regular halter, no chains, no drugs, he is obedient & sensible & as adorable as ever. 

One of many chill graze sessions

I had been originally hoping to try & sell him this year -- he is an exceptional horse to handle & ride, but he shows little to no talent or enthusiasm for jumping.  He does have, however, an amazing potential for serious dressage, which I have neither the money, the inclination, nor the facility to pursue.  But this will all have to wait for him to hopefully finish healing. 

In case you are wondering what kind of crappy horse owner doesn't realize their horse has a fractured foot -- there was never any heat, no swelling, no digital pulse.  He wasn't terribly lame; it could easily have been an abscess or bruise.  So my advice to anyone who has a mild mystery lameness that doesn't sit right with you:  do the radiographs sooner rather than later.  

We could use some good vibes if you have any to spare.

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Taking Action

I generally do not delve into too much social commentary on this horse blog, but we have reached new-yet-old levels of horrifying behaviour & I want to share a few things.

Some things shouldn't have to be said.  I'm going to say them anyway.

Judging anyone based on their skin color is wrong.

Classifying someone based on any attributes they can't control is wrong.  You are not better than someone else just because they have cells that grow with a different shade than yours.  Human behaviour, choices, ethics, & intelligence are not dictated by the colour of the sack that holds their organs together. 

Someone else is not less deserving or less worthy or in any way different from you just because they fell out of their mother on a different side of an imaginary line drawn by dead, greedy white men.  

Racism, just like sexism, is wrong.  Both should be named, called out, & shut down on sight. 

White people, of which I am one, don't like to hear it, but the truth is that we are not that special.  If you have found success in your life in this country & you are white, at least part of that success is because you didn't have to battle the colour you were born with.  Part of your success is absolutely due to pure luck (hint:  if you immediately thought 'no', that means the answer is 'yes').  Plenty of other people worked just as hard & harder than you did & wanted it more.  What they lacked was the key ingredient of opportunity, aka luck.  It's up to us as mature, thoughtful adults to realize that accepting this does not denigrate us, rather it's an important step to recognize both the humanity & the struggle of others. 

I could dig into that in extensive detail, but what I want to do instead is talk about how we can move forward.  Because it takes ACTION from all of us who did have that luck in the form of parents or other family/connections who could help us out, in the form of access to education, which creates choices, in the form of a job when we were looking for one, in the form of relative safety when we speak up -- change is possible, but to have meaning, it will require force from us to overwhelm the fear & resistance of those in power.

What that action looks like is going to vary based on our individual capabilities & strengths.  I don't have money, so in this society, I have little power.  Even my vote is crippled since I live in a gerrymandered district.  However, I can still effect meaningful change.

When I started working in conservation, I quickly noticed that it is REALLY REALLY white (it's also really, really male, but I won't get into that for now).  For much of my career, I've been banging away at that drum & trying to find ways bring more diversity into our conversations, our meetings, & our conferences.  Because it's not just about what people look like -- it's about the diversity of life experiences, cultural backgrounds, values, interests-- these are what make our communities & our programs better & that was sorely missing in our agency.

It's been a puzzling problem to tackle, because I knew that at least in the hiring decisions that I had a say in over the last 15 yrs, it was definitely NOT due to discrimination against diverse applicants.  We were simply not getting any qualified applicants who weren't white people.  And for a long time, we barely even had any that weren't white guys with brown beards who hunted & fished (yeah, sadly, I was a major component of our division diversity for a while).  So what were the barriers that prevented people from even getting to our entry level (you can be a technician with an associate's degree from a community college)?

We're a long way from a solution, but I can share some positive things.  A few years ago, my statewide professional society started sponsoring bilingual outdoor family events which are geared towards our hispanic communities.  This is a small-but-huge step that our agency is part of.  I wish I could be more help with those, but alas, we don't seem to have many French-speaking groups in NC.

The big effort though, that I am very excited about, is a result of a grant we were recently awarded from a national program.  I am part of a small sub-group of employees who are working on concrete steps to broaden the diversity of our partnerships both internally & externally.  There is a solid workplan & momentum that I am thrilled to finally see.

This effort, called Partners For Inclusion, is a 3- pronged approach, recognizing that you need diversity within in order to successfully engage the diversity of constituents.  It includes critical elements like creating opportunities all the way down to elementary levels for kids to see people they can relate to & for people to see that natural resources belong & are relevant to everyone & there are so many different ways to enjoy them.  It's hard for people to fight for environmental justice if they don't feel included as stakeholders.  It's about being better communicators, which includes both reaching out AND listening.

Many need to be coaxed out of their shells...

I mention this for two reasons:  one, I wanted to share something positive in this cacophony of violence & soul-wrenching sadness.  Two, I want to challenge each of you, if you haven't already, to look around you & identify a niche where you can contribute to opening doors & creating opportunities where they may be lacking.  Where you can give a voice to someone unheard, or even better, create a safe space for that voice to flourish.  It's easy to shower out words of support on the internet -- I do hope that some of them will cause detractors to at least stop & think, but words will never be enough.

If you can support protestors in any way, that's great, do so.  But don't feel helpless if you can't, because there is a great deal of important work, some already in progress, much more that still needs to be done, that lies ahead of us.  That work, to ensure people have access to their basic civil rights & an equal opportunity at choosing their own path through life, will take commitment for a long time, from all of us to see it through.  Because make no mistake, if someone else's civil rights can be trampled on, that absolutely means yours can be too.

Every society is only as strong as its weakest members & helping someone else does not reduce you.  Taking care of each other strengthens us all.  Conversely, standing by & letting others fail merely dooms us all to an inevitable tumble into the same abyss.

It's up to us whether to choose to build a bridge instead.

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Solo Steps In & Other Updates

Thank you again to all who took the time to share compassion & kindness for the loss of our dear friend.  I miss Richard very much.  I miss bumping into him feeding his horses when I get home from work, when I would stop the truck for a chat.  I miss his friendly greeting of, "Hey, girl," always accompanied by his infectious smile.  Sometimes I talk to him as I walk around the farm now -- it's not the same without his quiet chuckle, though.  There were still so many things I wanted to ask him & stories I wanted to hear. 

In the meantime, Echo is working on shoulder healing.  Being a horse, he of course does not proceed in a linear, or even understandable fashion.  But there is slow progress.  And I'm getting pretty good at equine massage.

Ridiculous creature

In between those meantimes, I've been doing short work sessions with Solo.  Sometimes longeing, sometimes riding, at all times, a joy.  I decided since I don't know how many rides he has left in  him (although we never know that for any horse...or human), I didn't want to waste any opportunities.  We both love working with each other -- although Solo has distinctly less love for longeing, given his long & complex history with it.

We don't do anything complex -- walking, a bit of trotting, some ground poles, depending on what he is feeling up to (he never fails to tell me).  I sneak in a few steps of lateral work or transitions, then quickly look away in case he catches me trying to surprise him with his nemesis, Dressage.  Occasionally,  he gets excited & takes a few steps of canter.  I let him have it because it puts a big, stupid grin on both of our faces, but I bring him back after a few strides so he doesn't make himself too sore.

His bad foot gets tired quickly, so I keep field sessions around 30 minutes or so, although he can walk longer on a trail once Echo can go out again.  He's crooked, but I don't pick at him since he's 24 & carrying old injuries.  Despite that, he still has his lovely suspension when he lifts into the trot.  And I still get to spend a few minutes with my favourite view in the world.

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A Different Kind Of Derby

In an effort to give us all something to think about that is not tragic or terrifying, I present to you the following:

This weekend is the first Saturday in May, but due to COVID-19, for the first time since 1945, there will be no horses lining up at the post for the Kentucky Derby.  There WILL however be a Derby...

...of turtles! 

You can read the details here about the Kentucky Turtle Derby, which will even include an official race call by the Triple Crown announcer.  It doesn't sound like he has ever called a race this long before.  This isn't the first time racing reptiles have stepped in to give us something to cheer for:  the Turtle Derby emerged the same year, 1945, of the last equine Derby cancellation.

I will definitely be tuning to see the athletic prowess of delightfully named animals including Seattle Slow & Sir Hides A Bunch.  Thank you to whoever is organizing this, I, for one, sorely need a little levity.

It'd be even funnier if they actually ran like this...

     

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Take Care Of The Caretakers

Thank you to all of you who took a moment to leave a comment or send a message - each means a great deal.  Our community, our world, has indeed suffered a great loss & it feels just that much dimmer without Richard in it.  While I am grateful that he didn't meet his end with this damn virus, in a hospital, attached to a ventilator, as I so worried, I would really rather he still be here to sit down & share a stale Oatmeal Creme Pie from his tack room stash.

I learned last week that Richard was only 70 -- which sounds old if you are 25, but not after you pass 40, as I have.  Until about a year ago, I felt certain that he would be one of those sturdy farmers who keeps working until they hit triple digits.  But then his wife became very ill (she still is) & Richard became a caretaker.

I don't think the situation of caretakers for the gravely ill gets talked about enough.  As I learned from personal experience, in some ways, it's even harder to be the "helper" than it is to be the sick person.  There are few to zero support services for caretakers & in many cases, people who are doing this work for someone they love are doing it in addition to their regular job/life duties.  They dedicate all their own resources, financial, emotional, physical, to supporting their loved one every way they can think of.  It is stressful, scary, & most of all, draining.

Because the caretaker is not doing this as a job, they don't get mandated breaks, there is no sick leave, there is no "signing off."  Because the caretaker is often driven by the twin engines of love & fear, they will push on into territory they would never have previously entered.  When this persists for a long time, as it so often does, the toll can be debilitating or even deadly.

I point all this out to say that if you know someone who is a caretaker, take note that they are at risk too.  Stress absolutely exacts a price from our bodies & the caretakers very much require care just as much as their charges do.  It's not anyone's fault, except for maybe the larger cultural system which doesn't do enough & that's a bigger problem than I can tackle.  But there are things we can do on the individual level to support each other. 

If you have the ability to give someone a break for a few hours or a day, do so.  Whether that be by helping with tasks or a financial contribution to hire some help, say, a house cleaner.  Maybe you can bring food or supplies or run errands if you are going to be out & about.  Maybe you can do some chores or take care of some pets.  Any of these things can help reduce some of that stress, even if just temporarily, it still counts.  And remember to check back in a few days & next week & next month & the time after that. 

If you ARE a caretaker, you are probably both tired & stubborn -- I hear you & I know that condition all too well.  Please hear me -- let others help you.  Ask for help.  It's not an imposition, we will all need help at one time or another.  It doesn't mean you are weak or incapable.  It's ok to be helped. 

None of us can fix everything or save everyone.  We can, however, by doing things that seem small & every-day, make a big difference in tough parts of someone else's life.  Maybe even save a life, but at the very least, add a bright spot where it is sorely needed.  Taking care of our caretakers is a win for everyone -- the world needs all the generous, compassionate people it can get.

And because this a horse blog that is about horse things -- I found a photo of Big Boy & Richard, both doing what they loved most, & I hope his family won't mind that I borrowed it from his obituary:

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Unexpected Loss

Saturday night, we unexpectedly lost a treasured human friend.  I still can't wrap myself around the size of the hole he has left in our lives.

I don't know exactly how old he was.  Maybe in his 70s, but up until a couple of years ago, he was strong, active, & capable of working harder than I was.  The past couple years though, he has been taking care of his wife, who has terminal cancer, which has dragged on far longer than anyone expected.  I can testify that the exhaustion & stress of watching cancer eat alive the person that you love is a deadly threat.  And so it was - Richard collapsed of a massive heart attack & a relative found him in his home Sunday morning.

"Heartbroken" does even begin to describe how I feel.

The first time I met Richard was when I came out to look at this property in 2013.  He was selling his back pastures, so he was also looking for a good neighbour.  As he carried me back through his fields in his utility vehicle, his soft-spoken kindness & gentle humour immediately put me at ease.  I fell in love with the parcel which became Flying Solo Farm, but part of that was due to added feature of having Richard next door.  For two people from two very different generations, we had a whole lot in common.

We both loved horses; Richard with Buddy the Appy, last April

FSF sits on the foundation he created.  He bought this parcel as cut-over timberland & transformed it to rolling pastures edged with mature oaks, pines, & sweetgums.  He built the fences by hand, hung the gates, established the forage that my horses use today.  He could have made more money selling this property to someone else but that was never what Richard was about.

I never could have built this place without him.  He used his enormous tractor to bushhog over-grown fields for me.  He moved & re-drove fenceposts so I could make new gates & he built the entrance road.  He taught me how to repair & adjust the hi-tensile fence so it stayed safe for horses.  He helped me improve my tractor bucket skills & pitched in to any project that was too big for my equipment.

2016: Fixing my driveway culvert

What defined Richard, though, was his generosity.  He owned every tool known to man & offered any of them to me.  It didn't matter how busy he was, if I needed a hand with something, he was there for however long it took.  And it was the same for any other person he met -- he lived to help others, no matter who they were.

As is common with those of generous spirit, Richard also had a deep & open love for animals.  His quiet, gentle way with them endeared him to dogs & horses with the same effect he had on people.  Broken hearts with darkened pasts found a balm for all the sharp edges that life cut into them.  He was a quiet port in which to rest, safe for a moment from battering seas.  It was his gift to abused equines.  It was also his gift to me.

Richard loved horses above all.  An avid trail rider, he showed me the vast network of trails across neighbouring properties that he'd strung together over the years & kept maintained.  Although he had a weakness for a flashy paint, his favourite horse, his Solo, was an old-school, plain bay TWH named Big Boy.  A big-moving, big-headed mahogany gelding overflowing with energy, the two of them used to do 15-20 miles a day the first few years I lived here.

I can't find any Big Boy photos, so here is Nobody, another of Richard's TWH & this was Richard's contact photo in my phone

Big Boy died suddenly last fall -- he was found dead in his pasture, not a mark on him, no sign of a struggle.  He was somewhere in his 20s & retired & we suspected his heart just gave out.  Richard buried him where he found him, on top of a hill looking over the fields where he had lived out a good life.  It's a little eerie looking back now, that they both went the same way. 

There's so many more good things I could tell you about Richard.  He was well-loved in this community & you'd be hard-pressed to find a person he hadn't helped.  He & his wife both grew up here in this small-town county & were related to everyone by blood or marriage.  He went far too soon & I know I'm not the only person missing him terribly.

2014: Driving anchor holes for my first hayshed w/ 100 HP behemoth

One of the things he was most looking forward to was eventually getting back to riding.  He hadn't been able to do much of anything due to his wife's health needs & he always put her first.  I worried so much that he wouldn't survive the stress, because I knew what a similar situation had done to me.  My deepest sorrow for him was that he didn't make it to that goal.  He missed riding so much & he never stopped cleaning his tack in hopes that he would get to use it again.

One day last summer, I did manage to coax him out on a brief ride in May, his first in two years.  I didn't know then it would be his last ride, but it makes me doubly glad I did.  It was a beautiful day, with summer sun dappling through the leaves & he kept telling me over & over how good it felt just to sit on a horse.  I couldn't stop smiling watching him.

That ride:  Richard & Smokey, me & Buddy

I've spent the last few days aimlessly wandering the farm & sitting on the porch, alternately weeping & cursing the unfair universe.  I miss my dear friend, I miss his gentle teasing, I miss his unintelligable phone calls of southern-mumble-quiet-drawl where I had to guess at every other word.  I miss his looking out for me:  if we didn't cross paths in his yard (my driveway goes through his farm) & he hadn't heard from me in a while, he'd randomly come back to the house & knock on my door just to see if I was ok & have a chat. 

Most of all, I miss one of the biggest hearts & kindest, most generous natures I have ever known.  I owe him so much - I tried to repay him via barter whenever I could, grooming his horses when he couldn't get to it, fixing small things for him, mowing a fenceline while I was on the tractor -- but he was so dang capable, I felt like I could never keep up.

2015: Plowing my driveway with his skidsteer (part of this amusing story)

I will forever be grateful to him for this farm, which has become my quiet sanctuary, although it will never be the same without his ready smile.  I will try to do what I know he would tell me to do:  enjoy the land, enjoy the horses whenever & however I get a chance, & enjoy quiet walks on pretty days.

I would ask this of you, readers, in honor of Richard:  look for opportunities for a small (or large) good deed, which can be as simple as checking in on someone who is on their own.  Don't wait to be asked - kindness unbidden is always a welcome gift & it is one that I will try to give more often because I know what it meant when given to me.

For Richard:  I don't think anything magical happens when we die & I don't think you did either.  Nonetheless, I choose to think of you meeting Big Boy on the other side, where you calm his anxious energy with a touch just like you did in life.  May the two of you step out together on the trail that never ends, free of the aches & worries that piled up behind you, with not a single fly in sight.  There will always be a part of you here on Flying Solo Farm & I will try my best to do it justice, even though I can never do it as well as you.  I will never forget all that you did for me & I will miss you always.

Farewell, my very dear friend.  Ride free.       

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