If you have less than 15 minutes to sit down and read this post, I’d advise you to move on. If you have ADD, you probably won’t make it far, either.
I’m not even sure where to begin . . .
I got to thinking about what I want to do, as a rider. I’ve fallen in love with dressage. I want and need to compete. I have so many limitations, however. No trailer, for one. A horse that’s not really a dressage prospect, for another. I mean, we’d do fine — he will do what is asked of him, but when you have a horse that isn’t a stellar mover, you’ll never be anything more than mediocre. Lastly, I just can’t get things to move forward. We’re constantly at one step forward and two steps back.
This latest setback has me reeling. I called the vet about Brig’s knees and had a lot of questions for him to answer. I came away feeling like pushing him in dressage, something he’ll never be great at simply because it’s not “him”, and in the process shortening his useful life-span would just not be worth it. I mean, if he were something great already and this came up, that might be another story. Then, I would do joint injections, etc. to keep him going. Of course, he’d have to love it, and make it worth it for us both, not just me.
Then, there’s the part about money.
The sad thing is, I actually do pretty well. I’m not a frivilous spender. But having a horse has been such a huge expense that I’m pinching pennies and unable to pay for things like car repairs, vet bills and pretty much anything else that comes along. Let’s not even talk about things like new clothes or vacation. Between board, feed and shoes, I pay over $500 per month. Add lessons, gas, vet bills, fly spray, etc. and on average I pay $700 per month for my horse. A lot of my tack and starting expenses, like winter blankets, went on credit cards since I used my savings to buy him. Big expenses that came up would be paid for in cash and credit, for instance his $1,200 ulcer treatment. So, those injections I was talking about? I couldn’t afford it anyway. And showing? I don’t think I could pull that off, either.
Every day I stress out. There are a lot of little things that add up that need to be taken care of — like Brig’s most recent vet bill, the fact that I need to take my dog to the vet and my car needs body work. But, what if something happened between J and I? I rely on paying half a mortgage, split utility bills and having him around to fix mechanical issues with my car. I really hate that feeling. I’ve never had to rely on someone like that before and it scares me.
For a long time I’ve been denying that the financial aspect of horse ownership is affecting me the way it is. But, when I bought a saddle from the barn owner for $750 and had to ask to pay over time, that was my wake-up call. It really hit me when, by paying an extra $250 per month for the saddle, I have no money left at the end of the month.
I’ve been thinking about what I can do to fix things. If I had property I’d just bring Brig home. I thought about finding him a boarding facility with no bells and whistles but they are self and partial care and located way out where it’s hard for me to get to him every day to take care of him. But, either way, what kind of life is that for him? Even though he’s limited, he still wants to work, still need affection and attention. He’s not a pasture horse. He’s a horse who needs a job. And, the bottom line is that I’m burnt out emotionally and financially. For now, I’m done with horses. I love Brig with all of my heart, I really do, but I can’t make it work. I have so much to catch up on, financially. My life is a mess because I don’t have the time or money or organize, clean, maintain or pay for anything. My career is suffering because of the stress. Every day, I’m worried. I can’t even think straight.
The other thing is that showing is not for the average Jane anymore. I have met some great people from the barn and through the blog, but overall, it’s not a crowd I wish to mingle with. I learned a long time ago that material objects do not win you friends and the high only lasts for so long. I’m just . . . over it. There was a point in my life where I was living in a downtown highrise, driving a Lexus and jetting all over the world several times a year. I had the handbags, the shoes, the accessories and the clothes. And, at the end of the day, it brought me no joy. I didn’t feel as if I had “arrived.” So, when I hit my late-20s and realized where all of this stuff had gotten me (no where), I downgraded. I simplified my life. I lived in a studio apartment, bought a Volvo station wagon off eBay that I fixed up on my own and sold most of my stuff. I still traveled (but didn’t stay at The Ritz or Ritz-equivalent anymore), but I was able to pay off every penny of credit (including student loans) and honestly, I couldn’t have been happier! Ironically, I made the best of friends during that time, people I still keep in touch with today after more than five years and 3,500 miles. I’m not impressed by “things.” I’m impressed by character. That’s just who I am.
I put the word out to a few that I was looking for a new home for Brig. A pleasure home, with an adult that owns their own property. Someone familiar with thoroughbreds. I received a few bites, but nothing serious. Then, I received an email from Brig’s former owner telling me about how he’d been going through old horse photos and came across some of Brig in his winter hair and mud, and how much he missed him. I told him about my situation. We came to the agreement that they would take him back. I’m not charging them anything for him. I know that they’ll take good care of him and if they can’t find him an appropriate home, they’ll keep him. They have property and know a lot of people, so they are in a much better position to rehome him than I am, if that is what they choose to do. I know they love him as much as I do, so it feels good even though it hurts like crazy. It looks like they’ll be getting him in a month. I had to give a 30-day notice and since it’s full-care board, he may as well stay with me during that time.
I can’t even begin to tell you the pain I feel nor can I explain the relief. I know he’ll be OK, but I worry. I will no longer be able to control his fate. What ifs lurk around every corner. One of the reasons for getting back into horses was that I needed a purpose in life. I’m just not content getting up, going to work, coming home, watching TV, going to bed, day in and day out. It seems like such a waste! I’ll have a big, empty hole in my life to fill. And, I feel like a failure. I made a commitment that I just can’t follow through on and that kills me. Plus, I’ll miss him more than I can convey here.
Having horses is so full of pain and frustration. But, there’s nothing quite like currying the dirt of a horses’s back, kissing that divot between their lip and nostril, watching them graze, their smell and the warmth. It brings you outside on days you’d never step foot off your porch. And, they love you, no matter what. They forgive you and they trust you. I’ll miss all that.
What does my future hold as far as horses go? Showing is not in my future, unless I win the lottery or something similar. I do plan on having a home with land, someday. May not be until I’m 50, but it will happen. Then, I’ll get a horse. I’ll get a big, fat, easy-keeping, shoeless airfern of a horse to keep in my pasture. I’ll brush him every day and give him lots of love, ride around the property on his big, fat, mutton-withered back and go on trail rides deep in the woods. We’ll be the best of friends. Until then, I will admire horses from afar, maybe ride with friends now and again. I’ll still go to the big shows, dream big and pray I win the lottery.