My Life from Horses to Dogs

December 1, 2022

As soon as my stubby legs could grip a leather saddle, my parents took me to weekend pony rides in St. Petersburg, Florida. My father would later admit that minor indulgence was a fatal mistake. I quickly developed a lifelong love for horses. Later in life, while other sensible engaged women bought furniture to start a future with the man they loved, I chose instead to buy my first horse.

My riding instructor saw me coming a mile away and grabbed an old Palomino mare from the auction barn. She fudged the horse’s age and offered the mare to me for a measly eight-hundred dollars, along with a cheap saddle and reins. I didn’t care. I had my first horse, who had a bad thrush infection in her hooves, was obviously ancient and had been out to pasture for a long time. Despite her age, Charra, as I called her, was full of piss and vinegar. Too much for me to handle, but I had muscular legs and soft hands.

A year later, Charra succumbed to colic and had to be put down. I discovered horses are expensive to feed, shoe, and board. The midnight calls to the horse doctor consequently racked up the equivalent of two months of boarding fees within twenty- four hours. Back in 1976, colic was almost always fatal. Keep in mind this was before credit cards. Cash or check only. My measly bank account bordered on zero.

The boarding facility owner found an Arab mare for me, and I dreamed of riding a prancing, gray horse. This steed was younger than Charra. Typically, Arabs are not for beginners, but I had … muscular legs and soft hands. Alas, my new husband was not (nor would he ever be) an animal “person.” He put his foot down. No more horses.

I switched to showing Golden Retrievers in obedience competitions. What started out as a dog, a leash and a collar, turned into a bigger, newer, gas guzzling vehicle, entry fees, trips to Maine, California, Canada, Colorado, Washington. Nights in hotels, training class fees, club fees, vet fees. The list goes on and on. The Husband was not happy and whined to his parents that I lived in another world. Which was true, the world of animals. Now, I ask you, wouldn’t it have been cheaper for him to let me own the Arab mare?

He made the executive decision; it was time I raised children. But I knew, any kid of mine would “need” a horse or two. I sent the X-Husband packing. Or he sent me packing, depending on whose side you are on. I never bought another horse, instead dove even deeper into the world of competitive obedience.

Before the big toilet paper hoarding event of 2020, I took hunt seat equestrian classes again, jumping a very nice Quarter horse mix over eight-inch jumps. Except by the time I’d reached my sixties, my legs had turned to mush but I still had quiet hands. The lock down ended my riding lessons. Oh, sure, I’ll probably rent horses to walk-trot along the trails north of my home. But I found another outlet for my passion. Donating to local equestrian 501c3 organizations. Panhandle Equestrian Rescue (3099 East Chipper Road, Cantonment, Fl 32533) and Tiny Acres Northwest Florida (5662 Country Squire Drive, Milton, FL 32570). Wouldn’t you know, a beautiful bay Arab mare is at Tiny Acres. She is a sweetheart. If only I were young again. But she will go to a perfect home someday where someone will provide the love and nourishment she deserves.

This fall, I bequeathed my homestead to the Escambia County Sheriff’s Foundation with funds going directly to the K9 unit. My love of horses and dogs has come full circle. I’ve surrounded myself with people who are passionate about dogs and horses. Life is good.