Thursday, January 05, 2006
When I was young, like most little girls, I was obsessed with horses. I took riding lessons, went to horse camp in the summers, and had a huge collection of Bryer horse toys. I pleaded with my parents insessantly to buy me a horse, which was an impossible dream for a girl living on a half acre plot in the suburbs.
But my will was strong, even then. I began a quest to fufill my dream, and in less that a year, I had racked up a big wad of cash from odd jobs, babysitting and 10 cent returnable pop bottles.
I enlisted the aid of the daughter of a wealthy endodonist by convincing her of the greatness of my dream, and got her to go in halvsies with me. (My first attempt to garner investors for a cause.)
Together we purchased a beautiful Palamino Gelding named Sundown, who stood a majestic seventeen hands high. I loved that horse, and I worked so hard to make the dream beautiful; but boarding fees, vet expenses, feed cost, and the like, put me in a catch twenty two situation. If I worked all the time, I could afford the bills, but this left me no time to spend with my magical steed.
Jenny had all the time in the world to ride, as her parents were paying her half. She joined 4-H, and rode my dear Sundown in many horseshows and events. It seems like she brought home a blue ribbon every weekend.
When my grades bagan to suffer, mom pulled the plug, and I reluctantly let go of my dream.
I still think of Ol Sundown often, and I would have kept him forever, if I could have. It was a tough lesson in the commodity of ranching, to accept a pile of dirty green cash, in exchance for a living thing, that I loved. A hard lesson indeed for a preteen girl with a broken dream.
Mom still says that I bought the back end of that horse, but I don't see it that way. I never did.