Does he care how he looks on me? Who gives a damn, I do all the work. We
don't look in mirrors together, anyway.
Do I care how he looks on my back? Not really - horses aren't as vain as
people. When my rider's 4'9" 93 lb. spouse climbs up on me for her Saturday
lessons, people say I look like a Dutch Warmblood. This was funny at first,
but the novelty soon wears off.
Frankly, I'm not sure my rider would even be safe on a different horse. He's
only been horseback riding for 18 mos. now and does a lot of stupid things.
Two weeks ago, he took me on a training ride where we had to swim and wade
for a mile down the Santa Ynez River after he lost the trail. I then had to
pick our way home for three hours in the dark. (Actually, I've begun to like
these rides where I pick the gait ... the speed ... the route.) Yesterday,
I rode with only a halter on new trails in the dark because he forgot to
bring a bridle. I really have to take care of him.
I know I could run up steep hills faster with a smaller rider but I'm bonded
to the one I've got. I only steered him into endurance in the first place to
harness his aimless energies. Even if he never turns out to be competitive,
I'm not about to jump the fence and find a new home.
We're not pit ponies anymore. From a horse's perspective, if you are
obsessed with the way you look on your horse and can't appreciate it for what
it is, then please sell it to someone who deserves it and buy yourself an
Afghan, Persian cat or a mink coat. And don't walk behind me.
Remington, the feisty Icelandic, & John Parke
Santa Barbara, CA.