Purple Rain in the United States!

It sounds like an environmental disaster, doesn't it? But it's not. It's about the greatest thing to happen this century!!! And here he is:




The second photo includes his former owner, Lydie, who loved him and trained him and made him the wonderful horse that he is--and who was so incredibly kind to me to send me a letter, a book of photos (including from when he was a newborn, and from his sire, dam and grandsires!), a full set of wraps and his blanket. She and her entire family also insisted on driving him to the airport in Amsterdam themselves to see him off, rather than asking us to send shippers to their farm for him. It's obvious that he meant a great deal to them and that he was a member of the family in the 8+ years she owned him. I hope she realizes that he will be no less loved and cared for now that he's become a member of my family. I think she must... she saw me bawling for joy when I finished riding him, and must have known that I appreciated how truly wonderful he was.

I've waffled and waffled and waffled--and waffled some more--and I've come to the conclusion that I will stick with his original names. I've loved "Purple Rain" from the moment I heard it (I've always been a Prince fan), and I think "Jacco" suits him. That, and I already own a 3 year-old gelding with the barn name Prince, and I don't think I want to own a 3 year-old gelding known as "The Horse Formerly Known as Prince." I'm certain Jacco is a Prince of a horse, but Lydie called him Jacco, and I also think it's a tribute to Lydie to leave his name as she gave it to him... and that, more than anything, is my reasoning. If he'd belonged to some big breeder who hadn't put any thought into anything and just handed the horses off to a trainer who rode (nicely) a dozen horses or more daily, without any strong attachment to any because they could be sold at any time, that would be different. But that's not Jacco. He was named out of love, and those names shouldn't change--ever.

I can't wait to put my arms around him tomorrow and give him a hug and a kiss, and to whisper, "Welcome home, Jacco. I love you."

We Have a Date...

So, we have a tentative date for shipping... and it seems like forever and a day from now to me. Of course, I wanted him here yesterday. I even volunteered to leave all my clothes behind and stuff him in my suitcase. I would gladly have paid the $50 overweight charge. But Jürgen said I couldn't do that, that the airlines frowned on the practice and that we had to vet him first. Damn. I tried.

So now, I have to wait until February 20. That's more than two weeks away. And then the folks in Los Angeles will want to keep him until February 22. They call it "quarantine," but I know the truth--they want to make moon eyes at him and tell him how lovely he is, and on top of that, they want me to pay THEM for the privilege. Don't you think it should be the other way around?

I can hardly wait for February 22, when I can pick him up in Los Angeles and drive him to our facility. I hope it's a sunny day. Coming from Holland, that would be such a treat for him. He's not going to believe his good fortune, landing some place where the sun actually SHINES and where he can work outside without getting soaking wet. He'll also get to share a barn with a famous Dutch stallion (Facet), so he'll have a friend that speaks the language while he learns to converse with the Germans (that should help him feel at home), and he'll have a beautiful brand new bridle and blankets, and he's going to get lots of love and attention. He'll get used to the grey mare that makes the ugly faces at him... I'm sure Facet will explain about HER. Facet learned to ignore Quila a long time ago. (She saves her "best" faces for him, but my guess is she'll transfer them to Jacco, or split them equally between the two boys--she is a jealous one!)

A New Horse!

It took some looking (and two trips to Europe after the horse from the first trip didn't vet and we didn't find a suitable back-up), and countless hours spent watching videos of completely unsuitable horses. In fact, for me, the search seemed so endless as to be hopeless but Jürgen and Susan didn't give up hope. (My budget was low, since I only had the insurance money from Promise and she was under-insured, and Jürgen insisted that I needed a horse that would get me OFF those damn circles, one that I could show right away and start moving forward with; he wanted confirmed changes, show experience, a good mind. He said he'd lost enough hair already, that he didn't need to worry about my safety, LOL. Susan strongly agreed with him, and both were determined to find me just such a mount. I didn't think one existed at my budget, not that was healthy and not close to retirement.)

We made our second trip to Europe January 21 - 28. Susan had bilateral knee surgery on December 28, so we didn't think she'd be able to join us. She recovered so quickly, however, that we were able to bring her along (Want cheap last minute plane fare? Check out www.cheapflights.com to find the best bargains. I got her flights on Delta for less than I paid for mine 3 weeks in advance!) It was great having her along (and educational for her, too, since she's studying German at the University of San Diego. We laughed a lot and had a great time, and she was VERY opinionated (what else is new?) about the horses we tried. She rode the horses we considered for me before I did (so did Jürgen on most of them, but not on the day that we found my new boy--he could tell as much by watching Susan ride and he trusted Susan not to get herself killed in making sure they were safe enough for me). The first we tried was lovely--I could have been very happy with him. The second, not so much (I didn't ride him after he bolted with Susan. She giggled and said she loved him but he was NOT for me--"I like my mom" was her comment), and then I rode the love of my life.

I didn't know there WAS such a horse... so beautiful and elegant, and so uphill that he'd need stilts for his hindlegs in order to go on his forehand. Kind, patient, well-trained. Needs to be ridden more through, but we're pros at that at my barn, so two or three weeks and that issue will be history. The big thing is he was so much FUN and he met all of our criteria. When I got off of him, I had a wrap around grin on my face and tears in my eyes... and I was a giggling idiot. I knew, absolutely, that he was the one. I was 100% hopelessly in love, and there was no going back.

Thankfully, he has passed vet and now I can call him mine (or at least I'll be able to as soon as the bank transfer goes through.., but that's just a formality).

So, I'm pleased to introduce PURPLE RAIN, an 11 year-old Dutch Warmblood gelding by Jaccardo. He's dark bay (nearly black) with 3 small ermines and a tiny tiny tiny star on his forehead, and he's going to be the most loved gelding on the planet. I can't wait until I can introduce him to everybody in person.

Thank you, Jürgen and Susan, for not giving up. My dreams are coming true.

A Little Help From My Friends

I was touched by the thoughtfulness of my daughter, Jürgen and several of my boarders today. As far as I know, they don't read my blog, (I don't think anybody really reads it, given how few visitors I get--and I've never had anyone leave a comment) and I hadn't said anything to them about how I've been feeling, but I guess they noticed.

They've been asking regularly, "How are you doing? Are you okay?" My answer has been, "Yeah, sure." Because I am okay. I'm healthy. I'm fitter than I've ever been. I actually like my personal trainer nearly all the time (although there were a few minutes last night when I told him that I took back all the nice things I'd said--he made me do two quadriceps exercises back-to-back, three sets each to exhaustion, so it was really 6 quadriceps exercises to exhaustion, with only a 10 second break between them. My quads won't speak to him at least until Monday, and they probably won't speak to me again until then, either.)

Anyway, I can't complain about too much, except that I miss Promise. I miss having her to look forward to, and there just isn't much joy in riding anymore as a result. I love Quila. She's a great mare, but age has caught up with her, and I've faced the fact that First Level is her limit. She is a First Level horse, and the perfect volté (which we can now do) is about the best she can manage at trot. At canter, we've got counter canter and simple changes, but that won't buy us a ticket to Second Level. Not without shoulder-in. So... it's been tough dragging myself to the barn. Tough getting enthused about running the place.

What have they done, these beloved people? First, they talked to dear, less-than-enthusiastic-about-this-whole-horse-ownership-business-hubby (hubby, who has put me on restriction for horse purchases and trips to Europe), and laid out a plan for selling horses I own, setting out to buy a horse that I can ride and compete this coming year, and allowing me to retire Quila as I'd originally planned. And they've set the wheels in motion for doing so and begun to search. I'm grateful, because I haven't the heart or energy to look myself (nor did I have the nerve to ask hubby, who has been more than gracious over the years with my horse addiction) about another horse. Not with a kid in college.

And, they also came up with a business plan for the ranch, aimed at filling it with boarders and starting new programs that will be fun for everyone, programs they want to help run. They're infusing the place, and me, with a new energy.

Even though I'm crying as I type this, I don't feel quite so lost and hopeless. They gave me just what I needed.

It's Still Hard

This was the first weekend I've been back "in circulation" since I lost Promise. It wasn't easy.

I really haven't been riding much. I wouldn't be riding at all if it weren't for Quila... I don't have the heart for it right now... but she needs me. In her life, she's been through so much, and she's come to where she completely trusts again and she tries so hard for me--I could never let her feel abandoned. So I go out and ride her, at least 4 days a week, anyway. She likes Alena, and one of the barn moms spoils her, so I don't mind skipping one or two days, but never two in a row. It wouldn't be fair.

But it feels like all of my goals vanished overnight, like I have nothing to work toward for the first time ever, and I don't know how to deal with that. And with Quila, I'm still working on the same old things I've been working on forever. Her age, now, has put a ceiling on our achievements together, I'm afraid. The only difference in our riding is that my voltés are round and I don't lose the shoulders or the haunches anymore (or when I do, I know it and I know what I need to do in order to correct it). Small consolation.

I've been avoiding the horse world.

But this weekend was our chapter's first CDI***, and I'm on the board. I promised I'd scribe for the weekend a long time ago, and I didn't want to let the volunteer coordinator down. I saw some pretty amazing horses and some pretty amazing rides (and, unfortunately, some pretty painful ones, too). It wasn't easy. I enjoyed seeing my friends again, and a beautiful horse ridden well is always a joy to behold, but I couldn't help feeling my loss more sharply. The ache, which had started to subside just a little, came back even more powerfully, because I know what I lost.

I know grief is like that. I know it will pass, lessen and I'll be able to find joy in my sport again, but I sure can't find it now. I just want that mare back. The one I waited for, watched enter the world, and fussed over for those 5 long years until it would be my turn to ride her, and then my turn never came. The one whose hugs were almost as good as her mother's. Times like this I wonder "Why horses?" Mountain biking and wind surfing never broke my heart.

Pik's Promise RIP 5/2002 - 10/12/2007

This is probably the most difficult post I will ever write.

Her name said it all. She was full of promise and hope and talent and beauty, everything I had hoped and dreamed, and all too soon, she has gone to join the angels. I never even had my chance to ride her, except the one time at the walk.

Promise sustained an extremely rare traumatic injury--so rare that her two primary vets, in 40+ years of combined experience between them have only seen a total of five cases--resulting in a catastrophic breakdown. It could not have been foreseen or prevented, and there was no treatment. She was relieved of her suffering on October 12, 2007, when the extent of the injury became clear. I am grateful to Richard Markell, DVM, who cared for her during her illness--kinder, more compassionate veterinarians do not exist, nor do veterinarians that work harder or more intelligently to look for miracles. If there had been one to be found, I have no doubt that he would have found it. He's the best. I'm also grateful to consultants Mark Martinelli, DVM and Lynn Richardson, DVM. It was not for lack of care or caring that we lost my precious girl.

Pik's Promise was a Gold Medal Premium foal with the Rheinland-Pfalz-Saar who fulfilled that initial potential when she matured. As a mare, she received straight 8's across the board for all aspects of conformation and gaits at her Mare Inspection. Her score was the highest in the United States for the Rheinland-Pfalz-Saar in 2005. No mare scored as high or higher in 2004, 2006 or 2007, either. Even though she was from a "non-recognized" studbook, the NA/WPN agreed to inspect her for possible entry (no guarantees) into their Auxiliary Mare Book. They liked what they saw so much that they awarded her a First Premium, and once she fulfilled their x-ray and endoscopy requirements, she was entered into their Main Mare Book with the coveted Ster and PROK Predicates. She has a lovely yearling foal that fell just short of a Premium with the NA/WPN, which didn't surprise us, since the foal was born almost a month premature and hadn't caught up on her growth at the time of the inspection.

But Promise wasn't just lovely to look at. She was amazing in the show ring, too. She was a little shaky at her first show, where she went all by herself, with no friends for reassurance--but she still kept her scores in the mid-60's. She was in the high 60's at the second, and at her third show, she won the high point award for the show with a score of 74.4% at Training Level Test 4. Every score was better than the previous, and her confidence level was skyrocketing.

I had my first lesson on her scheduled for October 16, after my trainers returned from vacation.

I have lost a beloved friend and I no longer see bright future in front of me. Right now, I thank God that Quila is healthy (and I pray that she remains so), and I will take each day as it comes, but I have no plans to show. I'm afraid to push my luck with Quila and I need her at home.

A Little Insight

It had been nearly three weeks since I'd ridden, probably the longest time I've been out of the saddle in several years. Ordinarily, that would be a bad thing. This time, however, it was not. It was very, very good.

The first 10 days, I was working feverishly to prepare for the Maui Writer's Conference. Not many of my equestrian friends realize that I write, but I do. (It's sometimes easier to keep my riding and writing lives separate, otherwise I end up spelling all the time, since the words sound so similar). I'm a published author--of short stories--and I hope to have my first novel published very soon. In Maui, I rubbed elbows with Pulitzer Prize winners and NY Times Best-selling authors, who generously shared their wisdom, and helped me hone my craft. And who showed me that my novel, which I thought was pretty damn good--and finished--could be made better and still had work left to do. It was the vacation of a lifetime. I've never worked so hard (or been so tired) in my life. Up at 6 A.M. and either writing, talking about writing, or listening to others talk about writing until midnight (except for drinks in the hotel bar for an hour or so around 4 P.M.; we couldn't cope without a little bit of blowing off steam). I've also never enjoyed myself half so much. I'm already signed up again for next year. As a result of the trip, I have some top-name agents and publishing houses interested in my book. I'm still walking in the clouds and struggling to find my way back to earth.

The trip almost didn't happen. My father (87 years old), broke his leg 4 days before I was supposed to leave, but the doctors caring for him were skilled, and I was born into a family of saints who gathered around and did all that was necessary to watch over him so I could leave, without once complaining that I wasn't shouldering my share of the load. In fact, they never once let on just how much load they were shouldering until after my return. I appreciate how much they sheltered me from the guilt... the peace they gave me to be who I needed to be and do what I needed to do. What a gift!

Now that I'm back, I'm riding again. Miss Quila is now back to full work, and she's feeling pretty darn fit. Alena has been riding her, and she's done a lovely job. I hardly recognize the mare... she's so straight in her body, soft on the bit, good to the half halts. It's a miracle, really. Of course, it's the first time she's ever come back without my interference, and when I do ride her, I'm so much more educated now (Thank you, Facet!), so I don't re-teach her bad habits.

I realized, since I rode yesterday for the first time since I don't know when without any pain anywhere in my body, that the trouble I have with my left leg in canter doesn't stem from the left leg... it's actually a result of tightness in my right hip. Today, I focused on keeping the right hip open, and using it correctly, and the left leg issues corrected themselves.

Jürgen and Alena also had another revelation, to which I say HALLELUJAH! Ever since I began showing Quila, I've been saying that she becomes a different horse when she goes down centerline, that she knows I'm riding a test and she changes. Jürgen and Jennifer and Susan humor me, but I know that behind my back, they are rolling their collective eyes (and Susan, as a teenager, doesn't even bother to wait until she's behind my back--she's right up front about it). I'm told I just need more show experience, that I need to "ride my horse," that I need to stop getting nervous... a litany of things.

I've always been certain that there were things I could do to counteract what she was doing, but I've always been just as certain that it was HER problem, not mine. I don't have show nerves. I don't. Well, perhaps in the barn aisle, because I hate being pressed for time. BUT--the minute my foot hits the stirrup iron, I become intently focused and the rest of the world ceases to exist for me, and especially once I'm going around the outside of the ring... I neither look right nor left, and I couldn't tell you who is even watching, or what is going on outside. I lose all awareness outside of the moment and what the horse and I are doing. I am not nervous, because that isn't a helpful emotion. I am just analyzing information and making decisions.

AND, I know that sometimes, probably most of the time, the second we turn up centerline, Quila starts to pull through the bit. It feels a lot like waterskiing when you yell "hit it"--she just motors up. I've gotten to where I can control her at the trot, and usually at the walk, so it isn't a big deal, and most of the time, by the time we canter now, she's with me... but not always. It depends on her mood. And the day I tried to ride Second Level Test 1 (which is too similar to First Level Test 1), she came totally undone. She KNEW the difference.

Well, Jürgen decided to have Alena ride First Level Test 4, to see if Quila was ready to return to the show ring. If she was, he was going to have me enter a small local show this upcoming weekend. Alena turned her up centerline, and even she couldn't control the mare! Quila did to Alena AT HOME what she always does to me, and I guess Alena had a helluva time trying to school her out of it... wasn't even the slightest bit successful because Quila got so excited.

Jürgen wasn't happy about it. I, on the other hand, was relieved to hear the story. I feel so much better about myself and about my riding. IT IS NOT ME!

I'm not mad at Quila. She's had a tough life, and she's come a long way. At one time, I didn't think she'd ever be able to show at all, but we were Circuit Champions last year. And at home, I'm continuing to learn from her, despite the fact she's pushing 19. She's my best friend and faithful companion, and she tries hard. But she worries, and rushing in tests is how the worry manifests itself. It's a residual neurosis from how she'd been treated before I owned her.

At least it is human-induced. Promise has no such issues, nor does Margarita, who is doing incredibly well. Two days under saddle now, and she looks like a pro! Quila has another date with Pik's Pride in the spring. I suspect there will be a long line for this next foal--which will be for sale.