rita
I saw her look me over when I drove up and saw it in her eyes. She looked around and sized everything up . . . then she stepped away rather than face me and stood with only her shoulder towards me. I'd have to step up and give her some attention to bring her around. She was mine, but she wasn't about to throw herself at me.
"Hi Honey" I walked up and put my hand on her shoulder. She let out a breath. Then after a well timed pause, she turned and looked at me with those big brown eyes that said . . . "Hi Honey yourself!"
The sorrel mare acted like she hadn't noticed me until just then, slowly turned her head to me, mumbled something, and then pushed her head at me looking for her halter. I wasn't quite forgiven yet, but no need to stand on principle too long, it was only mid-morning on a cool clear day, breezes and she wanted desperately to get back and see if the world was like she left it. She fidgeted as I tacked her up and once I was mounted, she bowed her neck, wanting me to get-the-hell settled so we could go. She asked for some slack so I relaxed the rein and she stepped out on a trot, hitting the canter when the path opened up. No tactician could read a landscape better. She was off the bridle path shortly, turned sharply onto a switchback, up an incline and we were headed out looking for higher ridges.
With the sorrel mare there were no behavior problems to overcome, nothing to teach her. The rides were fun and pleasurable, and that's what everyone wants when they think about horse riding. That was exactly the point that Rita had made earlier, when we talked about taking on more clients. As we sat and talked, I made notes, she broke apart a Hershey's milk chocolate bar with almonds, sipped a Coke. I don't have that much of a sweet tooth, but every time I watch her work over a Hershey's bar, I get this sudden urge that I ought to have one.
"Let me see" Rita held out her hand to read what I'd been writing down. She read each item while her hand reached for another piece of the chocolate bar, or her Coke. "Okay, you're starting to get it all sorted out."
"Well thank you"
"You want be able to ride a horse safely and enjoy it. So . . . either the horse will need some training, or . . . the clients will need to know how to handle a horse, or both. That's it." She was very happy, explaining it to me, until she realized she was out of chocolate.
"Then I'll . . . "
"Then . . . you can keep up with basic health care, nutrition . . . I can show you a thing or two about feet. I need to introduce you to the Vet . . . She was looking to see if there was any stray chocolate she'd missed . . . but you get the idea."
"Yeah, I thought about it and started a list . . . "
"Good idea . . . things like loading and trailering . . . well, you know." She was happy that I was sorting it all out. "What about a schedule for clients? You're going to have some riding, some training."
"I thought about that. Michelle's pool guy and I were talking and he sets his clients on a once a week, or twice a week schedule, then if there's something special to do he schedules it between regular visits. If I schedule the riding like that, then the ones I need to spend more time with, I work with in between, it works out.
"Perfect. See, I told you, you'd sort it out . . . " She said, and smiled at me that things were going so well.
It was a couple of hours, and two very high vistas later that I coaxed the mare back towards the stable. She compromised and we took an indirect route back that brought us to a ledge that we could see all the way back. She has a habit of going right to the edge to look and I have mixed feelings whether or not she's doing that just to feel my knees tighten. I gave her a minute or two and then without any further coaxing she turned and we came down and finally back to the bridle path and home.
"I can always tell when she's been out on a date with you." Karen walked up to the corral as I dismounted and held the mare for a short drink of water.
"Out on a date?"
"Oh yeah. We don't take her out like you two go, and when you've been here, she's all frisky, she's not so stubborn or set in her ways."
"Hmmm."
"Women are like that when they get a little attention . . . or rode hard . . . " She laughed. "I think it'd break her heart if you didn't show up. Any white truck that pulls up here she comes over to see if it's you. I've never seen anything like it . . . What do you think? Can she go again, just around the path, maybe up that far hill?"
"Sure. She didn't really want to come in just yet. Just use my tack, and give her a few minutes to cool off and get a drink."
"You go visit with Paul, we'll have dinner later. I think it's time we got another one. This was what we had in mind, enjoying just riding, and we want to ride together."
My mom was a natural problem solver and nothing frustrated her more than when I was a kid and I'd just shrug my shoulders . . . She'd ask me how I was going to figure things out and I didn't think, just shrug my shoulders. She made it perfectly clear that wasn't going be good enough. If I didn't know, fine, but I had to figure out a way. Take my time, but figure it out, and she'd show me how to take what I knew, or how to think it through and come up with maybe not the answer, but a way to work one out.
My dad was different, in that he learned by doing and seeing what worked, until something did. Once he figured it out, then it became a tool he would rely on to apply to the next problem. He taught me what he knew worked, and worked best for the things and situations he had been through. But he wasn't the analytical thinker my mom was. I think she adored him for that. That he didn't know what to do sometimes, he'd get stuck. But he was faithful and he had heart and kept at it.
While Karen got ready to go riding. I slipped the bit out of the sorrel mare's mouth, and rubbed her muzzle while she took sips of water, and we talked a little nonsense. Karen returned, and without any help from me, adjusted the tack and expertly slipped the bit into her mouth and mounted.
"See Ranny, I know what to do now, and, the right way to do it, instead of just keeping after it until we're all done . . . or all done-in . . . It helps to be able to see something and know if it's right or wrong doesn't it?"
Karen took the slack out of the rein and turned through the gate. Just before she picked up to the trot, the sorrel mare stretched out her neck and swung her head around to me and looked.
